Homily for the 15th Sunday in Ordinary Time, A

There is a wonderful line in Paul’s letter to the Romans, 8:28. “We know that all things work together for good for those who love God." All things, not just good things.

I have Mass at St. Isidore on Sunday, July 12 @ 7:30/9:30 am

the 7:30 am Mass will be live-streamed. https://stisidore.church/isidore-online/

frjoedailey@gmail.com

Transcript

A reading from the Holy Gospel according to Matthew. 

On that day Jesus went out of the house and sat down by the sea. Such large crowds gathered around him that he got into a boat and sat down, and the whole crowd stood along the shore. And he spoke to them at length in parables, saying, A sower went out to sow. And as he sowed, some seed fell on the path, and birds came and ate it up. Some fell on rocky ground, where it had little soil. It sprang up at once, because the soil was not deep. And when the sun rose, it was scorched, and it withered for lack of roots. Some seed fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked it. But some seed fell on rich soil and produced fruit, a hundred or sixty or thirtyfold. Whoever has ears ought to hear. 

The Gospel of the Lord. 

I had dinner this week with one of our newly ordained priests. His call to the priesthood came through his involvement with campus ministry at U of M. So I shared the story of my own call to campus ministry at Western Michigan University. In retelling that story, I heard something in today's gospel that I had never noticed before. 

About seven years after I was ordained a priest, a friend mentioned that St. John's Student Parish in East Lansing was looking for a priest for campus ministry. She thought I should apply. I hadn't thought about campus ministry before. It's not like I heard heavenly choirs singing or saw light rays streaming through the clouds, but as soon as she said that, I knew that's what I should do. I started looking into the possibility, and a few weeks later, I got a call from the campus ministers at Western Michigan University. I asked the archbishop for permission to go to the Kalamazoo Diocese on a three-year temporary loan to work in campus ministry at St. Thomas More student parish. 

It was a great experience, but at the end of the three years I realized I had satisfied my desire. I had wanted the experience of a world beyond my own Catholic parochial setting, and the university met that need. I returned to the Archdiocese of Detroit. After two temporary assignments, I was assigned to my first pastorate, where I remained for 31 years until retirement. 

Several years later though, I realized there had been a previous chapter in this story. In the middle of my junior year in high school, we moved from Detroit to Indianapolis. I went to Catholic Central High School in Detroit, but when we moved I attended public high school in Indianapolis. The public school wasn't as challenging academically, so I really didn't have to study. When I started my first year at Sacred Heart Seminary College, I didn't change gears. At the end of the term, I should not have been surprised to learn that I had failing grades and was put on academic suspension. 

I managed to get into Indiana University at Indianapolis for the spring semester. I took a full course load, made the dean's list, and returned to Sacred Heart Seminary College the following semester. What I realized all these years later was that God had called me to the university two different times. I responded enthusiastically to the second call, but I'd completely missed the first call because I thought it was a mistake. 

I went to Indiana University, because I had failed. I didn't realize that God was using my failure to get me where I was supposed to be. It had never occurred to me that God could use my mistake for good. God doesn't waste anything. 

If you're going to farm the difficult soil of Galilee, you've got to accept that there will be periods of success and periods of failure. Sometimes it's going to bloom with such intensity, you're not going to know what to do with all the harvest. And sometimes it's going to be full of weeds or pests. It's going to be dry and impoverished. 

In the kingdom, Jesus is proclaiming failure, miracle, and normality are the coordinates. In some seasons of our lives, we're not ready for the word. We meet God at the same place where we meet anybody else, preoccupied, closed, stuck, or open. Remember, losses are not the same as failure. For all the seed that does not grow, other seed lands on good ground, puts down root, and produces the harvest. 

As the prophet Isaiah foretold, "just as the rains and snow come down from heaven, ...so shall my word be that goes forth from my mouth. My word shall not return to me void, but shall do my will, achieving the end for which I sent it." We begin to realize that faithfulness is more important than success. The sower is extravagant, sowing seed everywhere. In the end, the harvest is ordinary and everyday. In failure and everydayness lies the miracle of God's activity. 

There's a wonderful line in Paul's letter to the Romans, chapter 8, verse 28. "We know that all things work together for good for those who love God." All things, not just good things. In today's verses from Romans 8, Paul helps us see that the suffering we experience at any given moment is not the last word. God is tilling the soil of our lives, preparing something new. "We know that all creation is groaning in labor pains, even until now."

 Today's gospel begins, "Jesus left the house and sat down by the sea." In the early church, there were no church buildings. The church gathered at homes. By telling us that Jesus left the house, I think Matthew is telling us that Jesus is not preaching in church to believers, but Jesus is outside preaching to everyone. God's call is universal.

 And what's interesting, you cannot see it. Once a seed falls, it's nearly impossible to detect from the dirt around it. Like yeast in dough, you have no idea there is invisible power in the works. Robert Capon writes, "Jesus' entire work proceeds as does the word of a seed. It takes place in mystery, in secret, in a way that can neither be known nor felt, but only believed and trusted."