My Weird Personal History with the Parable of the Sower

It's been entirely too long since I last posted. I hope no one was holding their breath.

From http://catjuggling.com/new-illustration-parable-of-the-sower/

For most of my life, I've hated the Parable of the Sower. I think there was a children's book based on it floating around my church with sad-looking seeds withering on a path or being devoured by evil-looking weeds that made me think of it as rather cruel. Then, of course, the more I thought about it the more it just seemed like he was a terrible farmer. Who doesn't weed? Who doesn't know their land? Who would waste seed by throwing it on a path? What is he, an idiot?

I got a bit older and I could say I understood the metaphor of each bit of land, but I still hated the parable. It just seemed so inhumane. I blame the illustrator of that children's book; anthropomorphic seeds represented people to me, and I could never imagine God throwing people to the weeds or the rocks or the birds. 

Years went by before I really got it: love. Love, of course! The seeds weren't people, they were the Word! We are the soil! Dumb illustrators, ruining parables... The Word doesn't look like a little seed with a terrified expression on its face. The Word is courageous, compassionate, full of light and truth. It is given to us whether we have a heart of fertile soil or hardened path because God loves us.

By margauxeve http://uptowncollective.com/2012/04/06/instagramuptown-margauxeve/

I only had this revelation a few years ago, embarrassingly recent. It was such a huge epiphany I tweeted about it. That counts, right? Since then I have been walking closely with this particular parable. It comes out to hit me at the strangest times.

Just last week, we lost a member of our parish. This was a young man in college who died, along with his companions, in a canoeing accident. For their loved ones, the funeral at our parish was just one of four they would attend within a week. It was enormously sad and heart wrenching. I did not know him and his family had not attended church in a long time so I do not know them, either. I hope the rest of this post does not seem heartless, as I had another moment with this parable during the funeral and that is the focus of this post. What happened to those young men and their families is undoubtedly a tragedy, and I feel deeply for them. That is, however, not what I will be focusing on. Sometimes, two things happen at the same time.

I was asked to be at the funeral by our business manager to help with any support pastorally or as a staff member. I was able to get some more chairs out as our church was overflowing, and I was asked to distribute communion. This is not one of the regular ministries I perform, but I love doing it on occasion. It is special, intimate, and holy in a way I will not try to describe here. The funeral itself was beautiful. Our pastor's homily was perfect, not an easy feat, and every person was there to mourn and to celebrate his life. 

From http://stmatthewcatholic.org/extraord

As happens at most funerals, there were a large number of Catholics who had not been to church in a long time and non-Catholics. For those of you not in the know, to receive the Eucharist you must be a Catholic in good standing. This rule is not meant to be exclusionary, it is meant to emphasize what we believe about the Eucharist: it IS the Body an Blood of Christ. Not a symbol, but the real presence. The rule is meant to make sure that those receiving actually believe that. That being said, it does often feel exclusionary to visitors and is fairly impossible to enforce. You don't know every person who comes forward and even if you do, you don't know what is going on in their heart. Some public figures have run into trouble with this rule as their faces and views are widely recognizable, so some priests have withheld communion. 

This might not be everyone's approach, but I am not going to check each person's "Catholic card" when they come forward to receive communion. Particularly not at a funeral. There were some who obviously had not been to church in a long time and while I have no way of knowing for sure, some who were not Catholic and had no clear idea why they were in line. If you are a non-Catholic reader, the expected response to the minister's presentation of the host or cup and "The Body of Christ" is "Amen." I got a nearly comical range of different responses:

"Thank you"

"Thank you, Amen"

"Amen, Thank you"

"Peace be with you"

And from one teenage girl, "cool."

I mention the last one was a teen but I got these responses from every age. I had many very polite and slightly confused "thank you's" from boomers and gen Xers. (Could we please stop blaming millenials for everything? Really, the rest of you ruined it first and raised us, and I'm pretty sure boomers invented blaming your parents, so... /endrant/) 

So there I was, handing out communion in what was probably the most literal Parable of the Sower possible. I was handing Jesus to soil that could be fertile, rocky, full of weeds, or hard. Perhaps in that moment someone had an encounter with Jesus. Maybe they will laugh it off with their sarcastic friends later, or maybe they will ignore it completely. But maybe one person will decide to come back to church sometime this month. Maybe one person will come back this week and never return again. But they did have an encounter with Jesus. The love of God touched them, and I was lucky and/or blessed enough to help facilitate that encounter. What they do with that experience I have no control over, but being able to witness that was incredible.

As ministers, we are asked to be trusting farmers and spread the seeds of God's love wherever we can. Like the farmer, we are supposed to trust the power of the Word instead of forcing and hovering. One of my favorite books about youth ministry is The Godbearing Life: The Art of Soul Tending for Youth Ministry by Kendra Creasy Dean and Ron Foster. In it, the authors remind us that we are not Jesus and we cannot be Jesus for others. We do not save people. Jesus saves people. What we can do is bring Jesus to others, to be Theotokos, God-bearer, like Mary. We have to remember in the midst of finding enough chaperones and honing a talk just right that the work done in the hearts of those we minister to is not done by us. We bring Jesus so that God can do the work in their hearts, something we do when we distribute communion, sing in church, hug a friend, pray for a loved one's intention, or any other use of our gifts for others and the glory of God.   

I look forward to the other ways the Parable of the Sower surprises me in the future. 

The Sower, Vincent Van Gogh. from http://counterlightsrantsandblather1.blogspot.com/2008/08/van-gogh-sower.html

A Theological Defense of Birthdays (Yes, you heard me)

A birthday party? Really? Just a party celebrating you, when you didn't even do anything to deserve it? You didn't earn a party. Grumble grumble millennials grumble.

You know what else you didn't earn? God's love. Stop being a jackass.

Excuse the harsh language, but the people who go on about that deserve the title. Everyone has at least one friend who enjoys making you feel terrible for liking yourself. They are not being a particularly good friend in that moment. Ever notice how we tell everyone to believe that they are beautiful but the second someone says they are beautiful out loud everyone considers them to be narcissistic? Quite the double-edged sword.

It is okay to celebrate yourself. You are worth it. No, you didn't have to earn it. You are an incredible creation of God in God's image, fearfully and wonderfully made. In fact,

For it was you who formed my inward parts;
you knit me together in my mother's womb.
I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
Wonderful are your words; that I know very well.
My frame was not hidden from you,
when I was being made in secret, 
intricately woven in the depths of the earth.
Your eyes beheld my unformed substance.
In your book were written all the days that were formed for me,
when none of them as yet existed.
                                     Psalm 139:13-16

You have a birthday because God and your parents co-created and wanted you to be born. That is worth celebrating. God wants you on this earth, so God created you. It is more than okay to recognize that you are a gift to this world; that is how everyone should see themselves. You are a gift God gave to the world. That is something to recognize and to celebrate.

Some people like to say that respect has to be earned. To me, that is horrifying. A person should be respected because they are fearfully and wonderfully made in the image of God. Any person you meet is also created by God and also God's gift to the world and should be treated as such. They have dignity as a loved creation of God and they deserve respect.

Which brings me to the first and most basic of the seven themes of Catholic Social Teaching: the Dignity of the Human Person.
"We believe that every person is precious, that people are more important than things, and that the measure of every institution is whether it threatens or enhances the life and dignity of the human person." - USCCB "Life and Dignity of the Human Person"
"Human persons are willed by God; they are imprinted with God's image. Their dignity does not come from the work they do, but from the persons they are." - Centesimus Annus

A birthday is a celebration of the person you are, not the work you do. Other people get to tell you they are glad you are. You get to say you are glad you are, and you are happy you have people who want to celebrate with you. Giving thanks to God for creating you is worthy of a party.

Of course, there is the birthday party with an agenda, to show off money and take a vacation from virtue. That is not a celebration that thanks God for creating you and honors your dignity, but a party that tries to prove your earthly importance, influence, and affluence. That is the party our misanthropic friend at the beginning of the post has a basis to criticize.

If, however, you just want to go to your favorite restaurant with your friends or your brother wants to bake you a cake, there is no shame in enjoying yourself. I am here to say that your party pooper needs to re-think their commitment to social justice.

10 Minute* Christmas Reflection

Every year my Christmas gift to my parish parents and students is a reflection based on this clip from A Charlie Brown Christmas. Every year the reflection is different even though the clip remains the same. Here is my reflection for this year, I hope you all enjoy!

Watch the video above. While you are watching, stop at each time mark and answer the question. You can simply think about it in your head, write it down in a journal, or discuss with a friend or your family. Take a break to reflect on the true “reason for the season,” and have fun! Have a blessed Christmas!

STOP 0:50
Linus doesn't think the little tree reflects the "modern spirit." What do you think the "modern spirit" is? Is it a help or a hindrance to celebrating Christmas?

STOP 2:30
Charlie starts with good intentions of finding a nice tree, but he gets discouraged by those around him. When have the voices around you discouraged you? Did you work through it? How did you do it?

STOP 5:15
Charlie hears the Gospel and allows it to transform him and give him new purpose. Has anything ever inspired you like that? Have you ever tried to let the Gospel transform you? How did it go?

END
Charlie gets discouraged again, but his actions inspire others. Together they create some beauty and praise God. Charlie evangelized the rest of the Peanuts gang. Have you ever inspired someone else? What happened? What did you or can you build together?

God bless us, everyone!
*Depending on what option you choose, this could take longer than 10 minutes!
As posted by HolidayFavorites Dec. 10, 2009

Advent Musical Reflection #4 :: 4th Week: "Shake Me Down" Cage the Elephant

I love this song, guys. And by love, I mean I'm writing a 4-part arrangement of it. And by writing, I mean I started it a year ago and haven't touched it since... but whenever I finish, it will be awesome. I think this song is the perfect cap to my theme in Advent reflections this season, seeking hope. I also highly recommend the actual music video. It's beautiful.

People often reference the origin of the celebration of Christmas when they are feeling snarky about Christianity.Yes, the date of December 25 was chosen because it was the pagan celebration of the Winter Solstice. (the calendar of the time was a bit confused) But there are a lot of pagan celebrations to co-opt, why the Winter Solstice? Because it is the celebration of the sun coming back to the earth. After that date the days start to get longer again. Instead of diminishing each day, the light increases each day. Definitely a day worthy of celebration. Can you think of a better day to celebrate the birth of our Lord?

It's a dark time, and I mean that literally and figuratively. You don't have to go far to hear about another disaster, death, injustice. It is hard to keep your head up when that's what you hear and it literally seems like the sun is never out. I think we have had a fully sunny day once this entire month. Maybe you have better weather where you are, but Chicago has been completely overcast. With only bad news to hear and gray skies to see, it's not hard to stay "with eyes cast down, fixed upon the ground, eyes cast down."

That is the challenge of Advent. To "keep my eyes fixed on the sun." You have to ask yourself what you believe about Jesus. Do you believe that Jesus is truly God and truly human, come to bring light and hope and healing to everyone? Do you believe that Jesus did that for you? For the person you love most? It is the fourth week of Advent. There is no more time to waste. Is your heart ready for the coming of the Son?

A great thing about this song is the end - the repetition of  "even on a cloudy day" takes a phrase that could be dismissed as cliche and makes you listen. It builds to "I keep my eyes fixed on the sun" like a person who has struggled to find hope and is walking with your struggle now. Someone who was "way down had to find a place to lay low" and says "it almost stopped me from believing." A person you might trust when trying to tell you to keep hope.

So keep hope. The Light of the World is coming.

Advent Musical Reflection #3 :: 3rd Week: "Praise You" Fatboy Slim

HAPPY GAUDATE SUNDAY! This is my favorite Sunday of the whole liturgical calendar. Advent is my favorite liturgical season, and Gaudate Sunday is like the climax. I wear pink all week.

I chose this song because in content, it is extremely basic. "We've come a long long way together, through the hard times and the good. I have to celebrate you baby, I have to praise you like I should." That's all the lyrics. Today does not need a lot of words. It just needs a lot of praise! Praise is very simple. It doesn't require lots of fancy words (though you can use them if you want) it just requires giving part of yourself to God. It can be a moment of thankfulness, a gesture, a song, a dance. Any expression of love for our Maker is the praise we are reveling in today.

That's a big reason why I chose this video. I could have gone with a lyric video, but since I put all the lyrics in two sentences earlier it seemed unnecessary. There are two things I love about this video: how terrible all the dancers are, and how committed each of them are to their dance. They may be truly awful but they love what they are doing. Even when someone turns off their music they do not respond with anger but dance all the more. It's a beautiful example of what we are supposed to do: dance for joy even if we cannot dance. Sing with all our breath even if we cannot sing. Give with all our hearts even if we have nothing to give. All without shame.

Why? Because that's what God asks and that's what God wants. You think God does not know what is in your skill set or not? You think God cares how you sound when you sing Alleluia at Mass or service? God created you and walked with you your entire life. You are not going to surprise the guy with your voice. God wants what you freely give, your praise in any form is treasured. (this is my way of saying pick up your hymnal and sing in church, ya layabout)

There are so many stresses this time of year and so many reasons to look down. To curse God for the hardships and the suffering that seems to surround us. That is the challenge and the blessing of this day. Not to forget all of those things but to just spend some moments putting them down to just praise. To recognize and celebrate the good things, the blessings with God's caring hand on them. So this week, blast this song and have a little dance party. Sing your pump-up song in the shower with extra vigor. Sing at Mass. Go rock climbing. Watch a sunrise. Write a poem. Play soccer with your family. Build something awesome with LEGOs. Do something for the simple joy you get just by doing it.

Advent Musical Reflection #2 :: 2nd Week: "Open" Regina Spektor

I chose a Regina Spektor song last year for the second week of Advent, too. I wonder if there's a connection? There is a lot I want to say about this song and Advent, but I'll start with just a general expression of love for Regina Spektor. She's fantastic, isn't she? Anyway, "Open" has a beautiful, slow build reflected in the instrumentation and dynamics. It starts minimally and a little dark. Even though the content of the verses do not get much lighter, it remains hopeful in the chorus and the music. There it is again, hope. Advent is about waiting in darkness, with hope, for light.

Potentially lovely
Perpetually human
Suspended and open
Open

With those words, the song switches from minor to major. The piano is fuller and the vocalization louder. Just because we are waiting, that does not mean our time is devoid of joy or beauty. Waiting can be hard, boring, painful. It is definitely "perpetually human." Sometimes it can be "potentially lovely." The situations in the verses are sometimes painful, "wires 'round my fingers" or the gasps for breath in between the lines about being trapped in the last verse. I wrote last week about the journey being hard and sometimes unknown. To pretend it is not is denial - one of the reasons I like Catholicism. It's homey and rich and it's not very cuddly. No one accuses Catholicism of trying to con you with warm fuzzies. (Or maybe I'm watching too much Daria on Hulu?)

Even though the song is not particularly happy, it recognizes beauty. In the bridge, everyone is confined but they see beauty in the falling snow and the streetlights. It's a delicate part of the song and almost a rest from the tugging extremes expressed between the verses and the chorus. Throughout, the piano anchors you throughout the song with a steady pulse and lovely counterpoint to the vocals. It asks you to look beyond the hard, boring, painful.

Then comes the word "open," often repeated, is triumphant. Every time she sings it, it has more power and is more full, joyful even. The song asks you to recognize the potentially lovely, accept the perpetually human, and embrace being suspended and open. Be open to all the experiences we endure, beautiful, painful, confining, lovely. Be open to allowing experiences to affect you. Be open to the Nativity event, the Incarnation, God coming to earth. It can be a slow build, like this song. On the last chorus, the last "opens," we get the finale we have been waiting for.

So that this week is actually a reflection, I'll leave you with some questions:
- Where do/did you recognize beauty in the coming week? This past week? In your Christmas preparations?
- What do you need to make yourself more open to this Advent? In the new year?
- Finish the last line of the song, "Open up your eyes and then..."

Advent Musical Reflection #1 :: 1st Week: "America" Simon and Garfunkel

With Thanksgiving on my heels and being without my usual 9-hour marathon of music (aka driving back from KC to Chicago) I was at a loss for the song to choose for the First Sunday in Advent. I asked myself what I think of for the first Sunday, and my answers were: hope, beginning, journey. And I had my song.

I used to listen to Simon and Garfunkel's Greatest Hits over and over on car trips when I was a kid. I would be watching America go by my window while listening to this song. Still today the images that flash by my eyes when hearing it are of farmland, mountains, sand dunes, forests. Thanksgiving is a national holiday and our nation definitely gave us a lot to be thankful for, as well as cause for worry. We have had times of uncertainty before, but lately it seems to come from all sides: ebola, Obama v. congress, Ferguson, Keystone pipeline, ISIS ... not to mention the things we were always worried about, global warming, hunger, poverty, violence, abortion, disease, ignorance, racism, sexism, ableism, ageism, fear.

But this song is hopeful, right from the first line. "Let us be lovers, we'll marry our fortunes together...and walked off to look for America." The US is a country founded on ideas, not a person. In the song, the couple are on a journey to seek those ideas. Intangible yet somehow embodied in Mrs. Wagner pies, turnpikes, and games with fellow travelers, seeking those ideas sustain them even when "I'm empty and aching and I don't know why."

Advent is a journey seeking truth and love. We commemorate the journey of Mary and Joseph with Christmas pageants (I can still hear "he's the one we've been waiting for" delivered in awkward kid actor cadence from all 9 years at my Catholic gradeschool) and putting the figurines from our nativity sets on the opposite side of the room from the stable. Despite the fact that we do them every year, the pageants and the figurines still remind us of a story of an uncomfortable journey with an uncertain conclusion. Like all our journeys, we are rarely ecstatic the entire time and our destinations usually throw a few curve balls. This is particularly true of journeys seeking something, even something as intangible as truth and love.

That is why we have to remain hopeful. The lovers in the song endure hitchhiking and buses and depression because they want to capture that elusive America idea, and they believe they can. What comes after is unknown. Mary and Joseph endure persecution and donkey riding to have a baby in a stable. Not an ideal situation. We know what comes after: more persecution, death, and resurrection. Also, not ideal, but ultimately the greatest hope possible. Our Advent starts in the usual swirl of consumerism and this year even more uncertainty and darkness. But we are hopeful that our destination will be full of truth and love. It may not be easy or comfortable, but when was solid truth or deep love easy or comfortable?