Mark 4:26-34, “The smallest seed, the largest plant”
Painting: Ronald Raab, CSC June 2015

My dear friends in Christ,

Jesus said to his disciples in today’s gospel from Mark 4:26-34, “To what shall we compare the kingdom of God, or what parable can we use for it? It is like a mustard seed that, when it is sown in the ground, is the smallest of all the seeds on the earth. But once it is sown, it springs up and become the largest of plants and puts forth large branches, so that the birds of the sky can dwell in its shade.”

This gospel opens for us the possibility that the smallest, seemingly most insignificant things can become large in meaning, even the most significant of all. The tiny seed of faith may become the most important in our lives if we are attentive to the stirrings and imagination of God. God so often has an incredible sense of humor.

I loved gardening as a teen. I spent so many hours digging up the soil, planting flowers, seeding the lawn, trimming bushes and watering the grass from the sprinkling system that was filtered through the lake water on which we lived. I found much calm in the practice of cultivating, seeding, watering, transplanting and waiting for growth, color and blooms. I found in the act of gardening a patience that was transplanted in my focus at school and in my ideas of what I would become. The combination of living on a lake, learning to take care of the yard, smelling the freshwater lake environment and feeling the sunshine on my face led me to much reflection about how I wanted to live my life. The almost completive act of waiting for seeds to grow taught me more about God’s life within me than so many of the other activities in which I was involved.

There was an elderly couple that owned a greenhouse in the center of our small town near my parents’ grocery store. We bought all the flowers, seeds and shrubs from these kindly people. Somehow I could tell that that act of planting, seeding, watering and waiting had completely formed and transformed their lives. Their bodies were bent over from years of working on their knees from pulling weeds out of their flowers and lifting heavy palettes of geraniums or bags of fertilizer. After years of getting to know Mr. and Mrs. Yarborough, I grew to really enjoy my visits with them and their kindness to me. His bib overalls were always stained with black soil and sweat. His face was tanned from the sun and there was a tan line around his forehead from wearing a cap. Mrs. Yarborough was small in stature, her white hair lightly pulled back in a bun. Her flowered dress was covered with a blue denim apron and her smile covered her face so we would not notice how much she was in pain from her arthritis.

In my senior year in high school, the Yarborough’s approached my parents and asked them if I would consider buying their humble business. They knew that I understood at a young age what they had learned over the course of many years, that life takes time and patience. We learned that beauty and color were things to wait for from the earth and within our selves. My parents approached me about their request, but I did not accept only because I felt that there was a seed growing within my heart that was going to lead me into other places, well beyond the shoreline of our small lake. The small seed of kindness that I learned from the simple, elderly couple helped me have the patience to examine my own vocation and place among the wildflowers on earth.

I hope that we all understand our role in helping young seedlings grow and think about what is most important in life. Our children need us. We all need role models in no matter what careers or jobs that we think God has in store for us. I hope everyone will consider that what we do for others can become a mustard seed, leaving God to do the harvesting and the transplanting.

I am still grateful for the Yarborough’s example to me and their fidelity in their own vocations. I pray that my own vocation of cultivating the Word of God has bent my heart toward the Light. I pray that my own body and words may reflect a lifetime of wisdom from the smallest seeds of the earth.

Blessings,

Fr. Ron

(from our parish bulletin for Sunday June 14, 2015)

Saint Barnabas
Painting; Raab

From the Acts of the Apostles: 11:21b-26;13:1-3

“…In those days a great number who believed turned to the Lord. The news about them reached the ears of the Church in Jerusalem, and they sent Barnabas to go to Antioch. When we arrived and saw the grace of God, he rejoiced and encouraged them all to remain faithful to the Lord in firmness of heart, for he was a good man, filled with the Holy Spirit and faith….”

Gracious God, encourage us to remain faithful with firmness of heart as you once called Barnabas. Help us live in faith when times challenge us to the core of our lives. Help us spread the gospel by our examples, our lives and the integrity of our words. On this memorial of Barnabas, give us courage to forge ahead, to work for peace and to pray even in the midst of conflict and division. Bring us the peace of your Son, Jesus, now and forever. Amen

Ministry and Liturgy Magazine, June/July 2015

(Here is the months regular column called “Bridgework”.

The liberating touch of Jesus

Several years ago, I presided at a baptism for an infant presented by his parents whom I had just met. The boy’s mother seemed so proud and his stoic father held him tightly throughout the ritual. The little child seemed to steal everyone’s hearts. He interacted with the group as if he was a standup comedian wrapping the crowd around his wooing and cuteness. The child’s voice and life already seemed embedded in God’s love and tenderness, in the liberation of Christ’s love of washing sin away and his invitation into our faith community.

However, the father is the one who caught my attention and my interior prayer. Even though I had never seen him before, I did catch in conversation that he had served in the wars of recent years. His strong posture, his lack of expression and his lack of words spoke loudly to me that his hidden rage was just under the surface. I wonder if distracting thoughts, memories from combat or even post-traumatic stress disorder might have made it hard for him to be present to his son’s baptism.

During the ceremony, a thought raced through my mind that halted my own emotions. Perhaps the father’s history of serving in wartime would stifle his ability to love his son. I knew I had to hold on to that thought for later and pray with those intuitions sometime well after the ceremony. I always panic when I realize that another father struggles to love his son. I become afraid because I have spent years working with adults in addiction, stress and mental illness, who were not loved, accepted or appreciated as children.

I reflect again on the gospels from the Twenty-Third Sunday in Ordinary Time through the Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time. As I listen closely, I hear from these texts the liberation of our bodies, including our ears and throats, in order to fully proclaim the message of Christ Jesus. A deaf man with a speech impediment approached Jesus to be liberated from his bodily impairments. Jesus bends down to him and sets the isolated man free. His hearing is opened up and his speech becomes free flowing.

Jesus’ touch is still liberating our bodies and setting us free even in ways that we cannot imagine for ourselves. Perhaps we need to realize that people in our assemblies are not just deaf and hearing impaired, but their emotions are also stifled in order to care for those they love. Christ Jesus is still offering this healing touch in ways in which go well beyond our own intuitions and even our knowledge of people.

As ministers, we proclaim the Word that begs to be embedded in people’s pain. We chant psalms or sing hymns not to hear the sound of our own voices but because there are people in our assemblies that need to be liberated from the memories that bind them and the misfortunes of life that have stifled their own voices. We use our trained voices at Eucharist so that Jesus can still bend down to touch the worried mother or the obsessive grandparent or the disengaged teenager. The tender hand of Christ comes through our voices in prayer. The warm breath of Christ bending down to the assembly whispers healing to people suffering from their experiences of serving in wars and often- unseen ailments of depression and grief.

These gospels tell us that the reason for our bodily liberation is so that we can proclaim Christ Jesus with not only our voices but our lives as well. Jesus asks his disciples and us in the present age, “But who do you say that I am?” This question comes to us as we bring our emotional and bodily pain to Christ. Our voices are set free in order to answer Jesus forthrightly with assurance and trust that he alone liberates our spirits and sets our emotions free. With full voice within the liturgy we all called to answer his question even in all the ways we still feel bound by our earthly ties.

Even as the disciples argued along the way about their greatness and power, Jesus stopped them in their tracks. He tells his disciples and commands us as well to go back to the child, the one who is powerless and in need of love, and then we will be close to the Kingdom of God. If we receive the vulnerable in our midst we shall know the real power that comes from Christ Jesus.

Jesus promises us that we shall receive our reward if someone gives us a cup of water because we speak about our faith and rely on him. Jesus also tells us that we are to give what we own away and then serve the poor. This is the liberation that we all long for in this life, when the deaf hear and the mute speaks. We long to have our eyes opened, our throats cleared so that we may learn to love all people in the name of Christ Jesus.

Lisa Lundquist, art teacher, (third from left)
Saturday June 6, 2015

Wow, Saturday evening was a blast! We had hundreds of people attend our first Sacred Arts Showcase! As the party ended, I am with Lisa, Mary Catherine and Shawn who organized the art and food. Musicians from our Tri-Community provided wonderful entertainment. I am so excited to establish art as a way to faith and relationships in our parish community.

Newman University, School of Social Work, Graduation May 30, 2015

On May 30, 2015, I addressed the graduates, family and friends of the 2015 graduating class of Newman University in the School of Social Work. The ceremonies were held at Saint Patrick’s Church in Colorado Springs. I am delighted to witness these forty-two people who are now prepared to enter into the mystery of other people’s stories in their profession of social work, to share their pain and to offer hope. God bless this year’s class!