Wednesday of the Sixteenth Week in Ordinary Time
July 20, 2022
The seed is the word of God,
Christ is the sower;
all who come to him will live for ever.
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy, our first reading recounts Jeremiah’s call. Oh, and it has a sovereign ring to it, doesn’t it! You can almost hear trumpets accompanying the words:
The word of the LORD came to me thus:Jeremiah 1: 2-3
Before I formed you in the womb I knew you,
before you were born I dedicated you,
a prophet to the nations I appointed you.
Long before Jeremiah knew, the Word had been instilled in him. At the appointed time, God called for that Word to bear fruit.
At our creation, God breathed the Divine Word into our hearts too. Jesus says it was like a farmer planting seed. And our humble, patient Creator waits to see if we turn out to be rich soil.
A sower went out to sow. … some seed fell on the path, and birds came and ate it up. Some fell on rocky ground, …. the sun rose it was scorched, Some seed fell among thorns which choked it. But some seed fell on rich soil, and produced fruit, a hundred or sixty or thirtyfold. Whoever has ears ought to hear. (from Matthew 13: 1-9)
When Jeremiah heard about the Word in his heart, he didn’t immediately have “ears to hear”. At first, he resisted:
Every day, God continues to call forth the fruitful Word from us. Sometimes we resist. Our lives can be a little rocky, thorny, or we might just be off the path a bit.
We also might make excuses to ignore the call of grace:
- too young
- too old
- too tired
- too busy
- too afraid
- too weak
We might just too … too… too ourselves into spiritual quicksand!
Our beautiful psalm tells what to say instead of our “too”s:
For you are my hope, O Lord;Psalm 71: 5-6; 15,17
my trust, O God, from my youth.
On you I depend from birth;
from my mother’s womb you are my strength.
My mouth shall declare your justice,
day by day your salvation.
O God, you have taught me from my youth,
and till the present I proclaim your wondrous deeds.
Poetry: Two poems today – one from Wendell Berry and one from me. His is way better. 🙂
The Wild Geese – Wendell Berry
Horseback on Sunday morning, harvest over, we taste persimmon and wild grape, sharp sweet of summer's end. In time's maze over the fall fields, we name names that went west from here, names that rest on graves. We open a persimmon seed to find the tree that stands in promise, pale, in the seed's marrow. Geese appear high over us, pass, and the sky closes. Abandon, as in love or sleep, holds them to their way, clear, in the ancient faith: what we need is here. And we pray, not for new earth or heaven, but to be quiet in heart, and in eye clear. What we need is here.
If You Are Mother – Renee Yann, RSM
If you are Mother, God don’t let us hurt ourselves; keep freedom in us as freedom, not as willfulness, so that we grow even if we must grow down like a dark, hidden root. Remember, if life dies in us, You change. We are not isolated seedlings you left somewhere in lonely hope one spring. You are the ground, and the growth, and the growth’s nourishment. When we green, it is You who thrive.
Music: Listen and blossom, dears❤️