JMJ. I know a lot of people who have left the Church 'cause they felt they "weren't being fed." Now, I will be the first to agree that there are good homilists and there are less than sterling ones. (And even the best have off-days.) The Sunday gospel readings recently jerked me up-right as if I'd been pole-axed. Time and again I've read the passage in Luke, chapter 13, verses 6-9. And it always went right over my head. I guess it's true that when we're meant to hear something, the Lord will open our ears.
I'm not going to quote the entire passage here since you, imaginary reader, are as capable of reading it as I am of writing it. The idea is that a fig tree has not produced fruit for some time and the owner wants to save soil and room and cut it down. The gardener prevails on the owner to give it another chance, promising to give it special care. (It can always be dealt with later if it still is unproductive.)
Father said, "Now the Owner is God and the Gardener is Jesus." And I thought, "Holy cow, and I'm the fig tree!" I don't think I heard much of anything 'til the Consecration. I was too boggled by the knowledge that at any time my "Owner of the Vineyard" could have yanked me out by my roots. And I'd have had no one to blame but myself! I breathed a figurative sigh of relief that there is a merciful Gardener Who was willing to speak up for me, beg for mercy, and to tend me that I might one day blossom and merit the heavenly Garden. Amen!
No comments:
Post a Comment