Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

The Lord’s parable and his stated reason for speaking in parables are mutually illuminating. Which is to say, the parable draws us into the logic of parables and reveals their purpose. A parable is not a mere story or a moral lesson. It is an invitation to step inside a symbolic world and meditate. Every object within the symbolic cosmos is polyvalent and saturated with meaning. Understanding, then, is not reducible to “figuring out the message,” as if one were solving a puzzle. Understanding is discovered through participation in the parable.

We are soil; we are the earth. We are poignantly reminded of this fact on Ash Wednesday each year: “Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return.” This reminder is meant to root us once again in the reality revealed by God. It returns us to our creation in the Book of Genesis. The first man, Adam, is drawn up from the ground—adamah in Hebrew. It is the breath of God planted within the ground that creates us, that gives us life.

But we do not live in Eden. We were cast out because of sin and the fertile soil of paradise is gone. Moved by his own steadfast love, God descends to our sorry state. The God who once breathed life into Adam now sows his life-giving word into the wounded soil of the human heart.

Some ground is hardened. Like a worn and beaten path, it is compacted and resists the word. Without water, tilling, and care, it will not receive the word. Eventually, the word will be taken away and the ground given over to the evil one.

Other ground is shallow. It is a thin layer upon solid rock. It can receive the word and quickly produce growth, but the roots have nowhere to go. Unless the rock can be shattered and room made for the roots, the growth will stop. Under the slightest stress the plant will die.

Some ground is fertile and capable of great growth but the weeds and thorns of the world have already been planted in it. Worldly cares, having arrived first, have taken deep root and slowly sap the potential of the ground. The thorns, unless they are ripped out, gradually choke the growing word before it can bear fruit. Thus it withers, and the ground is given over entirely to the weeds.

Finally, there is the rich soil. It has depth; it is cared for and carefully tended; it is continually fed with nutrients. The word, once planted, puts down lasting roots and begins growing, eventually producing much fruit. Here we return to the garden. Though we were cast out, the Lord walks among us and plants a new garden. What we lost through sin is given back by faithful reception of and obedience to the word planted within us. We do not return to Eden, but the gardens of paradise now grow within us. So the gift that is given to us after the Fall is far greater than what we lost.

Christ does more than lead us back toward a paradise that was lost. He makes us a new creation and gives us a share in his own divine and fruitful life. This is the blessedness of our eyes and ears. “Whoever has ears ought to hear.”