Homily for July 20, 2008

At the end of the Gospel I just read, Matthew says, "Jesus taught all these things by parables, and he taught only in parables, to fulfill the words of Scripture, 'I will open my mouth and reveal the things that have been hidden.'"
What are parables? They are not moral stories. They're not told to make a moral point. They don't have any single meaning, they have multiple meanings. They're an invitation into mystery.
You know, Jesus told parables about farming, about crops, and seeds sown, and weeds among the crops, and servants who did what they should do, and servants who did what they shouldn't do. One Scripture scholar points out that very early in the Church we shifted from images of field and farm to the images of buildings, because buildings are easier to deal with.
Let me illustrate. Buildings have blueprints, right? Buildings have specifications about what materials to use and what not to do. If you're building a building, you follow the blueprints, you have a construction timetable, and you cut and shape everything to fit the specifications. If you're OCD, buildings are very nice.
When you get to the world of the parables, the ground begins to shift under your feet. There are different kinds of soil. There are different kinds of seed. Even the seed that bears fruit bears different kind of fruit. There are weeds among the crops, and there is only so much you can do, and then what do you do? You wait. You just sit, pay attention and see the mystery of how it unfolds.
Of course, there are people trying to take the mystery out of farming, and they're trying to make better seeds, and more predictable yields, and fertilize the soil, and get the most out of it. There are also people urging us to do more earth friendly ways of farming, and more earth friendly ways of feeding ourselves. The world of parables is constantly shifting ground and perspectives, so that often we don't know where to stand.
Why is it that Jesus taught in parables? Well, at the point of Matthew's Gospel where this is written, things are not going well for Jesus. Things are not going well for his ministry. There's mounting opposition from the scribes and the Pharisees. Among his followers there are people who just don't get it. Some people are falling away, and the future is very uncertain, and what you see is very small.
In Matthew's church, things are not going well. The original mission they thought they had, failed. People were falling away, and there was tension and conflict. There were all sorts of opposing views, and there were sinners and saints.
So what do the parables teach us about how to live with that? By the way, things are not going well in our Church, either. We're confused about our mission, we sinners, we have arguments, we have liberals and conservatives and all sorts of people, and sometimes it looks like there's a lot of failure and the results are very small.
So what do the parables teach us? Well, there are weeds out there. It's a mixed bag. I was just thinking of some examples. We have in our Church bishops who are quite certain that they can tell pro choice politicians that they can't go to communion. We have other bishops, much to the dismay of conservatives, who invited pro choice politicians like John Kerry and Ted Kennedy to sit in the VIP sections of the masses the Pope said in New York and in Washington. We have people who want to cross all the Ts and dot all the Is. We have other people for who whom that is not very important. We have saints and sinners.
One friend of mine used to tell me (whenever I would complain about the Church, he would smile and shake his head and say),"They haven't learned their lines yet, have they?" Well, we have a lot of people who don't know their lines, and it would be so tempting to say, "Let's get rid of all the weeds. Let's make everybody toe the line."
By the way, if we did that, there wouldn't be a Holy Cross. But you see the temptation and what the parable tells us? "You know, you're not smart enough to do that. You don't have enough wisdom to do that. That judgment will take place someday, but in God's time. And it belongs to God to do that. If you try to do it, you're going to make a mess of things."
Now, I say that because that's my temperament. There are other parables where Jesus talks about the need for quick, bold and decisive action in face of the challenges. They're not the parables we have today. I'll have to struggle to find a homily on those parables when they come, but today we don't have those parables.
By the way, when I was preparing this, I remembered when I was asked to come to Holy Cross twelve years ago. This is the line they used to recruit me. They said, "Holy Cross needs somebody that knows how to let things be without losing control altogether." So I remind them of that many times when people complain. "This is why you asked me to go there."
I think the parable of the weeds and the wheat is our parable.
The other parables, the parable of the mustard seed and the leaven hidden in the dough can also speak to us.
Where do you look for the Kingdom of God? Where do you look for hope in our city? At the construction of Lucas Oil Stadium, or at small meetings in our neighborhood, where people come together to talk about neighborhood problems and neighborhood vision?
Where do you find the Kingdom of God? At a Mass in Yankee Stadium with 60,000 people, or in a small gathering of people trying to discern God's will for them, with all the messiness that's involved in trying to do that?
Where do you look for hope? Is it the big things, or is it to the little things that you can see around you every day, and letting those speak to your heart?
Finally, the second reading today is one of my most favorite passages of Scripture, and what it says, where do you find real prayer? Do you find it in well-thought-out eloquent words that are clear and inspiring and full of certainty, or do you find it in inexpressible groanings, in that groaning somewhere in your heart that you can't even find words for, that maybe you can't even find concepts for? Paul says that God's Spirit is in that groaning, and that God, who searches our hearts, knows what the Spirit means. I find that tremendously consoling.
That's my take on the parables, and as I said at the beginning, they don't have any single meaning. They have multiple meanings, and they're an invitation to you to step into a world where things are not predictable, but where God is at work in ways that are often hidden and often beyond our ability to figure things out.