Deacon Kyle Eller: Summer in bloom can show us God’s abundance

Mere Catholicism 

Spring is rapidly moving into summer. As I write this, we’re in the midst of what is arguably the best smelling week in Duluth, as the lilacs bloom for a brief time, perfuming the air. In just a matter of days, the trees around me went from being not quite leafed out to the profligate, almost claustrophobic abundance of the forest in full dress. (The lawn is growing fast too, and the mosquitoes have hatched.) 

At the same time these natural signs were appearing around me, in my prayer life I happened to be praying with some of the “agricultural” parables of Jesus, which seemed to drive the point home. In the fourth chapter of Mark’s Gospel, Jesus gives a series of them, most famously the parable of the sower, and the seed that falls on the different kinds of ground — the path or the rocky soil or the thorn-infested soil or the good soil. 

But then he quickly gives two more. He talks about the Kingdom of God being like the farmer who plants his crop and then sleeps and wakes as the days pass, with the crop going through all its stages of growth, “without any knowledge of his,” until harvest time arrives. Then Jesus gives another parable, about how the Kingdom of God is like planting a tiny mustard seed, which then grows into a large bush, “putting out great branches, so that all the birds can come and settle under its shade.” 

These are images of abundance — abundance not of the man-made variety but overflowing from the mysterious, hidden workings of God. 

Now, I’m not an expert gardener — I wish I were — but I know enough to realize there’s more to it than simply waking and sleeping while the plants grow. Gardeners typically tend the soil, weeding and watering and fertilizing and so on. In my neighborhood most of the gardeners take significant measures to deter wild creatures that want to share in the bounty, like the many deer. They may have to do things to try to eliminate pests and disease. 

But that only illustrates the point Jesus is making. All around us are wild plants and animals that grew to their full fruition without assistance from any human being. But us? We could work the soil with a hoe and water and fertilize and put up fences to our hearts’ content, but without the creative work of God, without the life that he created to spring from the seed itself, nothing would grow. It would just be nice dirt. 

We can cooperate with the work of God. Within that we may even do good work and hard work, work that makes a real difference. But he always remains primary, always the essential, always radically sufficient. Our participation is a grace, a gift given for our sake, not for his. 

There’s something profoundly beautiful about this truth, and something so deeply hopeful. God takes our small efforts, just planting a little seed, and with just a little cooperation brings great fruit from it. 

I think it’s particularly comforting when it comes to evangelizing in a world that has fallen so far from its Christian heritage, in belief and in practice. How do we reach those people who don’t know anything about Jesus, and worse, apparently don’t care? 

It’s encouraging to know that the same God who made the mustard seed also made the human heart, and made it to know him, to long for him, to only ever fully flourish in him. 

Whether it’s in our own spiritual lives or winning souls for Christ, maybe we daunt ourselves unnecessarily, making it more difficult than it is. For instance, the spiritual life is not some esoteric secret, it’s simple things like a commitment to daily prayer, frequent and devout reception of the sacraments of confession and the Eucharist, making a nightly examen, doing the works of mercy, building spiritual friendships with people who live near me, reading Scripture and the writings of the saints, uniting your sufferings in union with Christ’s sacrifice. That’s how we plant and tend the seeds. 

In a similar way, maybe our outreach to others isn’t as complicated as it seems. It’s caring about people and being willing to walk with them, praying with them when they’re struggling. It’s not difficult to learn to tell someone the basic truth of the Gospel. 

We’ve experienced some amazing events in recent weeks: the Eucharistic Congress in Bemidji, the Pentecost Mass at Itasca State Park, the National Eucharistic Pilgrimage passing through in our diocese. For many people, these experiences have brought profound moments and a deepening of faith. 

Don’t let them go to waste. The seeds planted at these events can bear great fruit. Let’s do our small part, tending them and looking for the Lord to bring growth and fruition. 

Deacon Kyle Eller is editor of The Northern Cross. Reach him at [email protected].