Twenty-ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time, cycle A

Matthew 22:15-21

You really old people may remember the turmoil that was going on in this country during the Viet Nam war.  It was the last time that our country drafted individuals to participate in the war.  I had two college classmates who died in that conflict.  I was in medical school when I was asked to sign a document stating that if drafted I would not cooperate.  Up until then I hadn’t given it much thought because I could see that both sides had a point.  Which side was God on?  My dad, who had enlisted in the military at the beginning of World War II, saw the situation as black and white.  Any good citizen should be willing to take up arms for his country, and Dad thought that the prevention of another country falling to the communists was a noble cause.  One of my professors, who spent a lot of time handing out leaflets and marching in anti-war parades, told us at a so-called teach-in that we had no business telling another country how to govern themselves, especially since they had done nothing to provoke our country.  

I think the deep division in this country at that time was maybe worse than now.  Certainly in my medical school there was very little support for continuing the Viet Nam war.

Today Jesus tells us to  repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God.  Those words have been used to separate politics from religion, as well as to support the idea that our duty to our country is nearly absolute, second only to our duty to God.  And unfortunately you can find people who claim to speak for God who are on both sides of the issue.  And of course Jesus himself lived in an era when patriotism as we know it did not really exist.  Jesus belonged to a tribe of people from which the Romans would never tolerate rebellion.  As a subject people the Jews would never have been trusted to become Roman soldiers, and needless to say, crucifixions showed that there were plenty of rebels among the subject people of the Romans.

Look more closely at the gospel.  The tax Matthew is referring to was originally the tax which supported the temple; every Jewish male had to pay it.  The emperor Vespacian, after subjugating the Jewish people, ordered that it be continued, but the collection would go for the uptake of the temple of Jupiter in Rome.  About this time Roman money became the only money you could use to satisfy your obligations to the government, and the denarius coin was roughly the daily wage of a laborer;  it also had a picture of the emperor on it.  The Pharisees had more than one problem with the tax -- first, some felt that paying the tax was acknowledgement that the Romans were their masters.  Second, many felt that a coin with the picture of Caesar on it was idolatry, because the Jews believed graven images were sinful.  Third, the money was going to the uptake of a pagan temple -- the temple of the Roman's highest god.  So they might have asked the question of Jesus to trap him, since he would either get in trouble with the Romans or with the Jewish people who made up his followers, but it was a good question.  But Jesus’ answer is very clever; instead of dealing with the lawfulness of the payment of the tax, he turns his audience to the question of what is Caesar’s and what is God’s.  

Well, everything is God’s, right?  But at the same time God puts people in charge of things.  Saint Paul asked his readers to pray for those in power.  I hope you pray for our politicians no matter which side you are on.  So what is God’s that is not being cared for by a politician, or a farmer, or someone from the human community.  I think the only possible answer is that which no one else can touch, that which does not pass from this ruler to that ruler, from this father to that son -- our human lives.  God gives us the freedom to accept him or reject him -- which also means to offer ourselves to him or live lives devoted to our own intentions.  Nothing is truly mine except for myself.  And that is the only thing I have which I can offer to God. 

Everything in the world is stamped with the image of Caesar.  My house belongs to me -- for now.  My car as well.  Saint Mary’s church technically is owned by the bishop of Springfield -- while he’s alive.  The Cape Cod National Seashore is owned by the citizens of our country, who are represented by the national park service -- until some other Caesar is put in charge.  Everything is stamped with the image of a Caesar -- except you and I, who can choose to be stamped with God’s image, who can choose to belong to God.  Maybe in those short words -- repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God -- we should hear Jesus telling us to give ourselves to God and then all the divisive things in our lives -- public and private -- become much easier to deal with if we belong to God.  

Twenty-eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time, cycle A

Matthew 22:1-14

On Fridays when we have a communion service, some of the men meet afterwards to discuss the scripture readings for the following Sunday.  By the way, any guy in the parish is invited.  Ladies don’t need to come; they are already holy enough.  When we discussed this gospel, our attention was immediately drawn to that fellow near the end, the one who did not have on a wedding garment, the one who got his hands and feet bound and was thrown into the outer darkness where there was wailing and gnashing of teeth.  You can sort of understand the people who refused the king’s invitation initially -- he eventually ends up destroying their village.  But what’s the deal with a man who doesn’t have a garment?  

You need to think like a first century citizen of the eastern part of the roman empire.  Since there were no clocks and no formal way to tell time, if someone had a feast, they would first send servants to notify those who were invited, telling them there would be a feast, say, next week, so be ready and we’ll come and get you.  The feast would be prepared, and the servants would go out to those invited, telling them the feast was ready.  You probably remember the story of the five wise and five foolish virgins -- same idea. They only had a rough idea when the bridegroom would show up, except that they knew it would be sometime that day.  

The king in this case had notified all those he intended to invite, and he got everything ready and sent out his servants who were met with refusal, and so on.  He ultimately destroys the village and tells his servants to round up everyone they could find, so they do.

Matthew has a lot of stories like this which have been used to say that the covenant between God and the Jewish people was broken by the Jews and transferred to the Christians.  Don’t think like that.  Early Christians were mostly Jews, but by the second century the gentiles outnumbered the Jews in the Christian movement and gradually the idea of replacement caught hold of the Christian world and caused a lot of trouble down through the ages.  

So how should we look at this gospel story?  I think the answer is in the man who was not wearing a wedding garment.  In those days a very rich person like a king would have had garments made for his guests.  In this story that would probably have been pretty important given that the guests had been rounded up from the dregs of the local population, most of whom probably owned one filthy garment.  One of the reasons that the guests were given garments by the host is that in that society it was dangerous and impolite to dress better than the host, and an insult to come in wearing plain clothing.  The garments provided by the host tended to cover up social distinctions.  But whatever the reason, we have a person who does not accept the garment but comes to the banquet anyway, angering the king and causing a violent reaction.

So what do we make of the story?  Jesus is still talking to the leaders of the Jews, not the Jewish people.  This whole section of Matthew is about the Jewish leaders who are using their positions to enrich themselves, to make impossible rules for the laity to follow, who have lost sight of what they were supposed to do with their position of authority.  They will be punished for their lack of response to God’s will.  The people who will enjoy the banquet are those who accept the garment of the king.  God offers his salvation to everyone.  Some pay no attention, being in love with the world, the pleasures of the flesh, even entranced by evil itself, it seems -- like that city council that was in the news who opened their meeting with a prayer to Satan.  But there are many, maybe not as many as we hope, who want to accept God’s offer.  What does God expect in return?  Well, whatever God wants, we can’t afford, we can’t give him.  Only his son can pay the price and has done it and continues to do it.  All God expects of us is to accept the gift of salvation that his Son offers.  That acceptance is the garment.  Acceptance doesn’t just mean that I verbally accept; acceptance means that I have to let God change my life to be like the life of his Son, like the life of his son’s mother or foster father, like the life of saints who became saints because they had accepted the gift of salvation.

Acceptance means that our lives change in some way, change for the better.  We go through a change of mind; we decide to put God at the center of our lives with all that implies.  We take the Our Father to heart, trying to bring his kingdom to our world, to our own family, our own pace of business.  And as we all know it’s perfectly possible to blend into a congregation of Christians and at the same time make no effort to accept the salvation God offers.  There are always some who are not wearing the garment.  Jesus told the people about the wheat and the weeds, that they would grow together until the harvest.  

So today, this gospel story is not about Jews and Christians, or about those who reject the invitation completely.  It’s about those who look like Christians but aren’t.  Saint John Chrysostom said, “belief in Christ is not enough.  Even the demons believe in Christ.”  Am I wearing the garment given by the king?  Have I accepted the salvation Jesus offers? Can anyone tell by looking at me?  

Twenty seventh Sunday in Ordinary time, cycle A

Matthew 21:33-43

When I was employed many years ago, I worked for a company that had a “three strikes and you are out” rule.  If I wanted one of my staff to stop doing what he was doing or start doing something she wasn’t, and they did not respond to my requests, I would first of all give them a verbal warning --which I had to document.  This warning would lay out what I expected and when.  If the individual failed to meet expectations, then I would issue a written warning, which would contain the behavior I expected and a deadline for it.  This was supposed to be discussed with the employee, who could write a note to accompany it when I sent it to my own superior.  After the expected time I could fire the individual, unless my own superior intervened.  I never had much trouble with the people I supervised, except when we converted our institution to a computer system, and an employee who was also a friend refused to learn the system.  Fortunately we only needed step one.

Today you hear about a landowner who was obviously following a different system.  When the tenants beat and killed and stoned his servants, he doubled down and sent another batch, who received the same treatment.  When he heard about this, he sent his son, who was killed.  When the chief priests and elders heard the story, and Jesus asked what was the next thing the landlord would do, you heard their answer.  Jesus doesn’t confirm or deny it, and when you think about it the landlord had already demonstrated that he was a guy who always gave his enemies another chance.  And for us Christians that’s a good message -- Jesus is always paying the price for our sins, our transgressions. 

Some people see in this gospel passage the old idea that Christians replaced the Jewish people as the new favorites of God.  In fact this and several other passages in the New Testament tend to support that idea .  But Jesus is talking to the leaders, the chief priests and the elders.  Jesus himself would never agree that the Jewish religion was replaced by the Christian religion.  His point at the end of the passage is that the chief priests and elders were expected to bring about the kingdom of God and didn’t, and now that  goal will be  taken away from them and given to those who are Jesus’ mother and brothers and sisters -- those who hear the word of God and keep it.

What is this kingdom of God that Jesus is always talking about?  It's outlined in the scriptures -- even in the Old Testament  which doesn’t seem to have made an impact on the chief priests and the elders.  It’s a world where no one is hungry or thirsty or naked; it’s a world where everyone loves his neighbor as himself.  It’s a world where we don’t have wars.  It’s a world where everyone has what he needs to live, and has the opportunity to become the best person he could be.  And we shouldn’t leave out the fact that the kingdom is where God is truly worshipped by every soul.  In short, the kingdom of God is heaven on earth.  That’s what Jesus taught; that’s what he wants for mankind.

And this gospel should make us ask some serious questions -- what am I doing to make the kingdom of God present?  When I encounter people during my day, some probably need something I could give them.  Am I sensitive to this?  Obviously most people don’t show their needs, but we know that everyone needs affirmation, encouragement, recognition of a job well done, however small.  You don’t have to be an extravert to do these things, it just takes willingness and doing it.  What are you doing, what am I doing to bring about the kingdom of God?

And what is our parish doing? Is it doing enough?  Because despite the fact that we live in a very affluent community in a part of the country where hurricanes and winter storms aren’t too bad and summer isn’t too hot, in spite of all the blessings we already have, what more can we do to make the kingdom of God present in our town -- and we can do more than we are doing as a parish.  Twenty percent of our parishioners attend weekly mass.  How can we do something about that?  Some of our parishioners are lonely -- shut up in their own homes because they are no longer mobile; confined to nursing homes because they can’t take care of themselves.  Who are they and what can we do about them?  And we could go on and on.  

If you look at the scriptures and the history of our church, you can see that God is working among us to bring about the kingdom of God -- but through his people.  Let us consider whether we are worthy of the kingdom being given to us.  

26th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Matthew  21:28-32

Martin Luther was born into a family of modest means.  He was ambitious and very bright, and initially studied law.  Law in those days included a lot of religious law, and Luther started to become very disturbed by what he perceived as what God wanted him to do and what he had done so far.  He decided to dedicate himself to doing God’s will and to that purpose became an augustinian monk --same order as Pope Leo xiv, and earned a doctorate in Theology.  This did not help and his scrupulosity resulted in sleepless nights, losing weight, wearing hair shirts, and so on. Based on his reading of scripture, particularly of Saint Paul, he decided that what was necessary to enter the kingdom of heaven was faith.  And Paul said, "Abraham believed in God and this was credited to him as righteousness”. Paul also said, “we hold that one is justified by faith, apart from works of the law.”  IF you ask Google to show verses of the bible that support this idea, they are all in Paul, except one in the Acts of the Apostles.  However that was what Luther was looking for, and eventually he developed a critique of the Catholic church that led to the so-called Protestant reformation.  Luther felt that several books of the Catholic bible were not legitimate, and indeed the Protestant bible contains fewer books than our bible.  But ultimately he couldn’t get rid of the epistle of James, which contains the statement “Faith without works is dead.”  Some modern Protestant denominations go so far as to say that if you express faith in Christ and really mean it, you are saved and can’t be unsaved.  

Luther had a point.  In his time, and even when I was a kid, our church in practice seemed to emphasize works.  We had indulgences, novenas, scapulars, special prayers, all of which implied that you could get benefits by doing something -- including the benefit of avoiding hell.  On the other hand there were prayers and actions that could cut short your time in purgatory.   

Today Jesus contrasts a son who says “I won’t do it” and does it with one who says “I will do it” and doesn’t.  He is talking to the leaders of the Jewish religion, who would tell you that your closeness to God was measured by how well you kept the 632 commandments, with people who were the very opposite -- who had no use for any of the commandments.  Jesus does not mean that all sinners are closer to the kingdom than the leaders of the religion, but those who had heard John the Baptist and were carrying out what he taught.  The leaders had heard John and been unmoved; the tax collectors and prostitutes had heard him and been moved to change the way they lived.  

IF you look at the gospel passage today, there is a crucial difference between the two sons.  Jesus talks about the first son, who says no, and changes his mind.   He does not say the second son changed his mind.  The impression from the parable is that the second son never intended to do what the father had asked, he just agreed to shut the old man up.  The two sons are not mirror images of each other; the first son seems to be genuine; he says what is on his mind and later changes his mind.  The second, we suspect, is a liar from the start.  

Martin Luther rightly points out that simply doing stuff for God doesn't really get us anywhere -- after all if we do good, God is working through us; and certainly we can’t manipulate God to do what we want him to do.  The Catholic church was right in emphasizing Christ’s words, “by their fruits you shall know them”, and “Not everyone who says to me “Lord, Lord” will enter the kingdom of heaven”.  The chief priests and leaders of the elders and you and I need to ask whether we are changing our minds.  Does our faith express itself in what we do?  I suspect some of the chief priests and elders did good things and compared themselves favorably to the sinners they condemned.  Jesus is telling them and us that the most important thing is to change our minds, to look at Him and look at ourselves and see what still separates us -- and then with His help draw closer. It’s a dynamic relationship.  Our belief leads to action, and our action strengthens our belief.  And I guarantee you will never run out of things to change about yourself in your journey to Jesus. 

Twenty-fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time, cycle A

Matthew 20:1-16

It wasn’t too long ago that Scott Adams passed away.  If you like comic strips you must remember “Dilbert”, the strip Adams wrote for many years.  Dilbert was a nerdy engineer, whose relationship with his pointy haired boss and his difficulty with the opposite sex made for humor that at least I appreciated.  And now and then he would branch off to the Alligator family or the Prince of Heck, who ruled an afterlife consisting of constant annoyances.  

Adams, shortly before he died, admitted that he didn’t believe in God or life after death, but had decided to hedge his bets by accepting Jesus as his Lord and Savior.  He said that he was doing this because he really would like to go on living in the heaven that people described, and as far as he could tell nothing more needed to be done than to accept Jesus -- a common teaching among many protestant denominations.  We will hope that Adams is enjoying heaven.

But I thought of him when I read this gospel.  And I noticed that I felt a little envious -- if that’s all it takes to get into heaven, I’ve certainly been banging my head on the wall for most of my life.  I’ve been working hard trying to grow in virtue and reject sin, and you probably have as well.  Can you think about other famous death bed conversions?  The writer Oscar Wilde was one -- after a very dissolute life of drugs and alcohol and sexual perversion, he converted to Catholicism almost on his death bed, and that seemed to be a real conversion.  But perhaps the most famous deathbed conversion was that of Saint Dismas, who was told by Jesus himself that he would be in Paradise that day, the day he was crucified.  

I think it’s interesting that the workers who worked all day don’t go to the landowner and say, “Give us more, we’ve done a lot more work than these others.”  Instead, they look at those who only worked an hour and tell the landlord, “You have made them equal to us!”.   To desire a revision in the original contract is not irrational, but that’s not what the workers were asking,  They were committing the sin of envy.  It reminds me of the story of the genie who popped out of the lamp and told the one rubbing it that he was a special kind of genie, he would grant any wish to the one rubbing the lamp and give twice as much to the man’s worst enemy.  The lamp rubber thought for a minute and said, “All right.  Make me blind in one eye.”  

Jesus starts this parable as usual --” the kingdom of heaven is like…” Maybe the parable is not about the workers at all, but rather about the landowner, who represents something about God.  And God says, “Are you envious because I am generous?”  Every week I go around and visit people in the nursing home.  I see Violet, whose brain works fine but who can’t even feed herself -- going on fifteen years now.  I see Beth, who can barely get from bed to wheelchair, and who is nearly blind.   In her younger years she was a dynamic social worker who loved to read.  I meet Bill, who is gradually losing his mind to Alzheimer's and knows it.  A man who contributed a lot to his profession and now leaves his room and can’t find his way back by himself.  I wonder if they envy me.  Do they have any reason to believe that God is generous?

When we look at the parable, the landowner owns the vineyard-- the workers have no claim on it.  The landowner keeps going back to the workers and inviting more to work in his vineyard.  You and I have no claim on God because of our behavior, because of our trying to live a good life, because of our prayers and participation in the sacraments.  One time Jesus was called “Good master” and he replied, “no one is good except the Father”.  That’s the bottom line.  You and I  and the people suffering in the nursing home and the Pope are not good, none of us deserve any of God’s favors.  But God according to Jesus loves each of us and loves us so much that he dies for us.  Rain falls on the good and bad alike,  And what message should we go home with, what is the gospel saying to us?  God loves me regardless of whether I’m worthy of his love, because I’m not.  If I have nothing else, I have life -- God gave me life because he thought I would like it.  And it may please God that I respond to his love in some way  by acting more god-like, but it doesn't change his love.  And with respect to life after death, I believe that God wants me to be with him for all eternity, and only I have the  p;ower to avoid that.  How will it be when I see Scott Adams in heaven?  Will I say “you have made him equal to me, how is that fair?"  Or can I bring myself to say, "Thank you for your love you give .”

Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, cycle A

Matthew 13:44-52

  Did any of you ever want to be a super-hero?  Wonder woman, Superman, those kinds of people?  I think a lot of kids, at least before the age of the cell phone, would dream about being super, being able to fly, to lift buildings, to have bullets bounce off of you or at least, in the case of wonder woman, off your bracelets.  Superheroes seemed to have it all, and even though the comic books we had told stories where they faced terrible opponents, also holding superpowers, our heroes always triumphed in the end.  We are born with the desire to triumph over obstacles; two-year-olds get frustrated when things don’t work out the way they want, and they let you know it.  I think we are designed to long for a life without limitations.

Very early on, though we learn that there are limitations.  We have to make choices in how we spend our energy, our time, our money.  And every time we make a choice, we leave behind what might have been.  IF you choose to get married to this person, you cut off the possibility of marrying another person.  If you choose to buy a Jeep, say goodbye to the Chevrolet.  

Today Jesus seems to be saying that the kingdom of heaven is a choice we make -- it’s within our reach, if we are willing to let go of everything else.  That certainly seems to be what a lot of saints did.  Saint Francis threw the clothes he was wearing at his father’s feet, renouncing everything to pursue the kingdom of heaven.  Saint Anthony of the Desert sold the significant property he inherited from his family and gave it all away, except for a stipend to a couple of widows to take care of his sister -- and then went out to live in the desert.  So many saints renounced everything to pursue the kingdom.  

But that’s not the whole story.  There have been lots of saints who didn’t renounce everything.  Saint Margaret of Scotland was a queen; Saint Henry and Saint Kunaginda were a married couple ruling over Bavaria.  The parents of Saint Therese of Lisieux, saints in their own right, had to struggle like every married couple to provide for their family and deal with living in the modern world.  Carlos Acuta was very middle class and had the latest computer games. For many saints selling everything you have to obtain the kingdom of heaven didn’t seem to fit their lives.  You and I might envy the saints who gave up everything, but we know we are more like those that had stuff.  

One way to get at what Jesus is saying is to go back and read all of Matthew’s chapter 13, which contains eight of the twelve parables Jesus gives us to understand the kingdom of God.  When we look at all of them together, we begin to understand that the kingdom is more valuable than anything we can exchange for it, as we hear in the parable of the buried treasure; that everyone is welcome in the kingdom but some choose to turn away, as we hear in the parable of the sewer; the kingdom starts small but grows, as in the parable of the mustard seed; the kingdom is meant to change the world, as in the parable of the yeast.  From parables in the other gospels, we learn that the kingdom is like a great party -- the parable of the banquet; we can be left out of the kingdom by getting too involved in other things -- the parable of the ten virgins, remember, five wise and five foolish; and God wants us to take risks to build the kingdom -- the parable of the talents.  The kingdom is where God forgives us for all of our transgressions but expects us to forgive each other -- the ungrateful steward.  Finally, the kingdom is a free gift, a gift that we don’t earn, a gift God gives to all who ask -- the parable of the workers in the vineyard.  Now if you don’t remember any of those parables, ask me later or go read about them, because when you put them all together you get a picture of what Jesus means by the kingdom.  When Jesus tells us the kingdom of heaven is within us, that means we have the power to shape ourselves into citizens of the kingdom by the way we choose to see ourselves, our neighbor, and the world in general.  If we truly recognize that we are loved beyond anything we can imagine, we can withstand whatever the world throws at us.  If we truly recognize that every human being is also beloved and made in the image of God, it will be hard to hate anyone or ignore their pain.  If we truly see that everything is a gift, our hearts will be grateful rather than envious; our prayers will begin with thanksgiving rather than petition -- and most of all, we will be happy and look forward to the ultimate happiness Jesus offers his followers in the next life.  And if we gain the joy of possessing the kingdom of heaven, we will see others catch the joy from us, because the kingdom of heaven is contagious.  

So now that you know what the kingdom is all about, go and tell others, like the head of a household who brings from his storehouse the new and the old.  

   

Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary time, cycle A

Matthew 18:1-23

I have a patch of land in the back of my house that I care for.  It’s an area about twenty feet long by fifteen wide of grass, surrounded by bushes.  That’s the aspirational idea, anyway.  In truth the bushes are infiltrated with some horrible species of vine that I have to keep chopping back, along with other weeds.  But the patch of grass, that’s something even worse.  If you are looking from a distance it doesn’t look so bad, but up close, it’s not grass so much as various weeds growing in what appears to be mostly barren ground.  Over the course of  years I’ve worked on that patch of grass.  My son and I dug it all up, leveled it out, planted new grass seed, watered it faithfully, and for a couple of years it looked good.  Then it began to revert again.  I dug it all up and  bought those rolls of sod, which I laid down.  Looked good -- till a couple of years went by.  I hired an expert to come in and do what I could not do.  It turned out he couldn’t either.  And so for the last few years I’ve kind of given up.  I  mow it now and then and on hot days I water the patch a little but I’ve found the best way to deal with my patch is to ignore it, to watch it from a distance.  I’m either a terrible gardener, or this is really poor soil.  I favor that idea.

Growing up, my mother’s side of the family were excellent gardeners.  Mom loved to plant her garden in the spring and then force me and my sister to weed it.  My uncle Phil had an incredible garden -- whatever he planted grew abundantly.  In fact all ten siblings except my aunt the nun had beautiful gardens.  The secret was in the soil.  

If you wanted a great  garden, it began with the soil.  Nowadays  you can go buy bags of soil from the hardware store.  I always resent having to buy dirt, but we do -- and my wife can grow about anything if she puts her mind to it.  But my mom’s siblings would never have used their hard earned money to buy dirt.  The preparation of the soil was paramount.  It involved scattering dried cow manure over the area then spading it into the ground.  This aerated and fertilized the soil.  Every couple of years you laid down lime and worked that into the soil as well; it counteracted the acid.  And during the growing season you water the land -- and even that has to be done carefully so as to avoid erosion and leaching the nutrients out of the soil.

I suspect the people listening to Jesus were aware of what it takes to make good soil as well.  In today’s gospel Jesus talks about seeds and soil.  Some seed falls on the path where people walk; on the concrete sidewalk.  That seed has no chance.  Some fell on rocky ground where it couldn't put down roots.  Some fell into areas where weeds grew up and choked the new plant. But some seeds fell on good soil and yielded an abundant harvest.

Is Jesus telling us that it’s all just chance? It seems that way, sometimes.  There are parts of the world where the gospel isn’t heard  because preachers are thrown in jail or executed, like North Korea.  There are places where the whole apparatus of the state favors one religion and the Christian message is drowned out.  There are still places in the world where the message of the gospel can’t compete with the struggle of the people to just find enough food to stay alive - parts of Africa come to mind.  And there are places where the message of JEsus conflicts with the prevailing message of the society, where religion is laughed at, where men can be women, where if you are depressed you can have someone put you out of your misery by assisted suicide, where the  golden rule is do whatever you want because there are no long term consequences, there is no life after death. 

But there are things you and I can control;  we can control the soil on which the word of God falls for us.  My uncles and aunts, with hard work, could grow gardens that yielded enough produce to last through the winter.  They knew how to create good soil..  You and I do as well, with respect to the word of God that falls on our soil.  Faith is a fragile thing that needs tending.  You can choke it off with the cares of the world, with distractions like the internet, television programs, sports … you name it.  We can always find ways to amuse ourselves.   You can starve the faith by failing ot fertilize it.    Prayer, strengthens faith; training ourselves by fasting, by breaking bad habits, by adopting new habits, that helps our faith grow.  And growing in love of God by actively loving our neighbor, that is great fertilizer for our soil.  

IN our time there are so many parts of the world where the word of God is falling on bad soil and we can only hope that God in his own time will do what he has promised and bring all men and women into his heavenly kingdom.  But we can control our own soil, we can create the conditions for the word of God to bear abundant fruit -- and that’s where the making over of the world to become good soil begins.