(Homily for June 16, 2024, the 11th Sunday in ordinary time. The readings are Ezekiel 17:22-24, Psalm 92, 2 Corinthians 5:6-10, Mark 4:26-34)
The mustard seed. I hope this is one you have heard a thousand times, and you can say, “Okay, I get it. Little tiny round seed springs up and turns into this huge bush, with branches big enough for birds to come and live in.” Full of cicadas too.
Jesus is telling the people that the kingdom of heaven, which is a big thing, comes from little things. From small things, big things one day come.
There’s a connection between the mustard seed in the gospel passage and the first reading. There’s always a connection between each Sunday’s gospel reading and the day’s first reading. In today’s, Ezekiel comments on how God makes the great cedar trees. Think of the big, beautiful trees as a metaphor for all the natural goodness of the Earth. But it’s not just a metaphor, because God is truly present in creation. Ezekiel mentions something just like what Jesus says in the parable: The cedar grows from a transplanted shoot, a flimsy, tender thing, but it turns into a big, thick tree.
The psalm after the first reading compares a faithful aging person to a cedar tree, still bearing fruit, still green and flourishing, even when they are old. So naturally, I thought of my dad. He’s been in heaven for the last nine years, I’m pretty sure, and I’m still thanking God for him on this Fathers Day.
My dad was not very tall. 5’7-1/2″, but the whole family called him “The Big Guy.” My last conversation with Dad was at the end of the month of May, nine years ago, and the last thing I said to him was, “I’ll see you in a few weeks on Fathers Day.” That didn’t work out, but I do see him every Fathers Day, in my family and in myself, and in his descendants. This year in particular, in my grandson Momo, who looks like he may have inherited some of my Dad’s red hair, and whose father is enjoying his first Fathers Day on the dad side.
Despite not being tall, my Dad was a pretty good basketball player, and he was a really good baseball player. He was also a good accountant, but he said if any of his kids went into accounting that kid would be out of the will.
Mostly, Dad was a good husband and father, atop a good family tree: Eight children, twelve grandchildren, and nine great-grandchildren, including one just born Friday. From small things, big things one day come.
Happy Fathers Day, everybody; here’s to all our fathers, grandfathers, and godfathers, and here’s to the women among us who are doing the work of fathers, and to all the father-figures who give us care and wisdom. God bless you and your dedication to your families.
The second reading contains that famous line, “we walk by faith and not by sight.” There’s a song about that. The part that grabs me though is where Paul says we want to please God whether we are at home or away. It makes me think of a baseball team, with home games and away games. Each of us has a home ballpark, a place we know we belong, where God wants us to be.
Paul says we are at home in our earthly bodies but our real home is in God. My home ballpark is joy. Sometimes I find myself on a road trip, looking forward to being back in that home park again.
The kingdom of heaven is not a place we go away to. It’s a life we receive; it’s being where God wants us to be and sharing wherever we are, whether we feel like we’re at home with it or not. The Kingdom inheres in us and in creation all around us – that is why Jesus describes it like a tree or a growing crop.
It’s certainly a big thing, the kingdom of heaven, but we can recognize it in the small things. It’s the small things that lead to that big things:
You stop to ask a neighbor how they’re doing, whether they need anything, since you’re on your way to the store anyway.
You help a little child study for a test. That’s easing her anxiety, and it’s helping to improve the grade she gets, and she’ll know that, but maybe the most important part is how you are giving her a model to follow when she has the opportunity to help someone else. She might not even know that until years later. From the small thing, big things come.
Our care of creation comes from small things too. Sorting recyclables from solid waste is a small thing; most of us got used to it years ago. Turning off the water while brushing your teeth, to conserve fresh water and reduce waste. Nothing to it. Walking to the neighborhood restaurant, instead of driving, to reduce traffic congestion – it’s not just your car’s emissions being reduced; it’s all of them, because fewer cars are on the road, and they are getting where they are going instead of waiting in traffic.
Big things need to happen if we are going to slow the manmade effects of climate change; governments and cultures and industries all have to get on board. But the big things won’t happen unless we start committing to do the small things.
From small things, big things one day come.
It may feel like a small thing just to notice and understand that the cry of the earth is the same as the cry of the poor. But once we know this, it’s a really big thing.
Belonging 