Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Deacon George Gussy
Sowing seed is an act of hope, Now, I bet we have some gardeners here and you gardeners can relate to that opening statement better than anyone because, if you have ever planted a garden, you know that sowing seed is an act of hope. You prepare the soil, plant the seed, water it, and then wait. There are no guarantees. Some seeds never sprout. Some begin to grow but are overtaken by weeds. Others are eaten by birds. But the gardener continues to sow because he believes that somewhere the seed will find good soil and bear fruit.
Jesus uses that familiar image in the parable that we hear in today’s Gospel. He sits in a boat just off the shore while crowds gather to listen, and He tells what seems to be a simple farming story. A sower goes out to sow. The seed that he sows is the same in every case. The difference is not in the seed. The difference is in the soil.
That simple truth speaks directly to our own spiritual lives.
Now notice something remarkable about the sower. He seems almost extravagant. He throws seed everywhere—on the path, among rocks, into thorns, and onto good soil. Now us gardeners know…that ain’t how you do it. We would be more careful, sowing one or just a couple of seeds at a time. But in this parable
Jesus wants us to notice something about God.
God is generous.
God does not ration His grace. He does not say, “This person deserves My love, but that one does not.” He scatters His Word freely upon every human heart.
Every Mass, every page of Scripture, every quiet prompting of the Holy Spirit is another handful of seed falling upon the soil of our lives and hearts.
The question is never whether God is speaking.
The question is whether we are listening…. Are our hearts ready to receive?
The first soil we hear about in the parable is the hard path. Jesus says the seed that falls there cannot penetrate because the ground has become packed down, and the birds quickly carry it away.
How does a heart become hard?
Sometimes through disappointment. Sometimes through anger. Sometimes because we have heard the Gospel so often that we no longer really hear it. We become spiritually accustomed to holy things. The readings become familiar. The prayers become routine. We attend Mass, but our hearts remain untouched.
And keep in mind that a hardened heart is not necessarily a bad heart. Often it is simply a wounded heart.
Many people today carry invisible burdens. They have been hurt by family members, disappointed by the Church, overwhelmed by anxiety, or exhausted by the pressures of everyday life. Little by little, they build walls around their hearts.
God’s Word lands there, but it cannot sink in.
The Lord invites us today to let Him soften that soil.
The second soil we hear about is rocky ground. Here the seed springs up quickly but has no deep roots. When difficulties come, the plant withers.
How often does that happen in our own faith?
Perhaps after a retreat, a mission, or a powerful experience of prayer, we feel filled with enthusiasm. We promise to pray every day. We decide to be kinder, more patient, more generous. But then life becomes busy again. Challenges arise.
Suffering comes. Our enthusiasm fades because our roots were never deep enough.
Faith cannot survive on emotions alone.
Deep roots grow through daily prayer, frequent reception of the sacraments, reading Scripture, acts of charity, and having perseverance even when God seems silent.
The saints remind us that holiness is not built on extraordinary moments. It is built through ordinary faithfulness.
The third soil contains thorns. Jesus explains that these are “worldly anxiety and the lure of riches.” Jesus made that statement 2,000 years ago, yet it is still true today. Never has humanity possessed more technology, more entertainment, more conveniences—and yet so many people remain anxious and restless.
The weeds of our lives are not always sinful things.
Sometimes they are simply too many things.
We are so busy answering emails, checking social media, watching the news, running errands, meeting deadlines, and keeping schedules that we leave very little room for silence, God’s voice is gentle. It is easily drowned out by the constant noise around us.
The weeds also include our worries.
Jesus does not deny that life is difficult. Bills must be paid. Children must be raised. Health problems must be faced. But anxiety becomes dangerous when it slowly replaces trust.
Faith says, “Lord, I will do everything I can, and then I will place the rest into Your hands.”
Finally, the last soil we hear about is the good soil.
This is the heart that hears the Word, accepts it, and bears fruit—thirty, sixty, even a hundredfold.
Notice that Jesus is not asking for perfectiom
Good soil is simply soil that is open.
It receives.
It allows itself to be changed.
It cooperates with God’s grace.
Every saint began as ordinary soil.
St. Peter had his failures.
St. Augustine had his wandering years.
St. Mary Magdalene had her broken past.
Yet God’s Word transformed each of them because they allowed it to take root.
Today’s first reading from jsaiah beautifully reinforces this message. God says that just as rain and snow fall upon the earth and do not return without watering it, so
His Word never returns empty. It always accomplishes its purpose.
That should give us tremendous hope.
Perhaps we have been praying for a son or daughter who has left the Church.
Perhaps we have prayed for a spouse who has little interest in faith.
Perhaps we have prayed for healing that seems delayed.
God reminds us that His Word is always working, even when we cannot yet see the harvest.
Gardeners understand something many of us forget.
Growth happens underground before it ever appears above ground.
God often works quietly,
The conversion we long for may already have begun in ways hidden from our eyes.
Then St. Paul, in today’s second reading, lifts our eyes even higher. He tells us that all creation groans in eager expectation for the fulfillment of God’s kingdom.
We all know that groaning.
We see wars and violence.
We see the division in our country and our families.
We experience illness, aging, and grief.
Creation itself seems wounded.
Yet Paul insists that present sufferings are not even worth comparing with the glory that awaits us.
That my friends is Christian hope.
Because hope is not pretending everything is fine.
Hope is believing that God is making all things new.
Every seed buried in the ground appears lost.
But hidden beneath the surface, new life is already beginning.
That is the mystery of Christ’s own death and resurrection.
The Cross looked like defeat.
Easter revealed it as victory.
Perhaps the greatest lesson from today’s Gospel is that we should spend less time judging other people’s soil and more time tending our own.
It is easy to wonder sometimes why others do not believe, why society seems indifferent to God, or why our loved ones struggle with faith.
But today, with this parable, Jesus gently redirects our attention.
What kind of soil am I today?
Am I hardened by resentment?
Am I shallow in commitment?
Am I choked by worry and distraction?
Or am I open to God’s transforming grace?
The encouraging news that every gardener knows is that soil, no matter what condition it is presently in, can be changed.
Hard ground can be broken.
Rocks can be removed.
Weeds can be pulled.
Gardeners know this.
And so does God.
Every confession loosens the hardened earth.
Every sincere prayer removes another stone.
Every act of forgiveness pulls another weed.
Little by little, God’s grace prepares our hearts to receive His Word more deeply.
As we approach this altar today, Jesus the Divine Sower continues His work.
In a few moments, we will receive not merely His Word but His very Body and Blood.
The greatest Seed ever planted enters our hearts in Holy Communion.
May we ask Him today to make our hearts rich soil.
May He soften in us whatever has become hard.
May He deepen in us whatever has become shallow.
May He remove from us whatever chokes His life within us.
And may our lives bear abundant fruit—not for our own glory, but for the glory of
God and the building up of His Kingdom.