Third Sunday of Lent C
was
visiting friends out in the country
when
he saw a farmer with a wagon full of manure.
The
boy asked what he was going to do with it,
and
the farmer answered,
“I’m
taking it home to put on my strawberries.”
“Well
that’s funny,” said the boy, “because where I come from,
we
put cream and sugar on our strawberries…”
We
here in the North Country are no strangers to manure.
Even
if you’re not from a farming family,
it’s
hard to avoid:
you’re
on a side road and get caught behind a load of the stuff;
or
it’s spring, you can finally open the windows,
and
in wafts the fragrant aroma
of
what I like to call “fresh country air.”
Manure
is simply a fact of life in these parts.
And
there are two very different ways to look at it:
as
a rather unpleasant byproduct of food production
that
you’d rather not have to deal with;
or—as
wise farmers and gardeners see it—
as
an abundant source of good (and basically free) fertilizer.
Did
you notice the manure in this Sunday’s gospel reading?
Of
course not—
because
it must have been translated into English by city folk
who
were afraid to offend delicate sensibilities.
But
if you look at the original Greek text
of
Jesus’ parable of the fig tree,
it’s
right there in black-and-white:
“I
shall cultivate the ground around it,” says the gardener,
“kai ballo kopria”—
not
“and fertilize it,” as we have in the sanitized version,
but
literally, “and throw manure at it.”
That’s
quite an earthy expression, isn’t it?
And
it’s just the way life feels sometimes, too!
On
occasion (maybe many an occasion),
life
throws some pretty tough and nasty stuff our way.
Our
days are touched by suffering.
As
do Jesus’ listeners when they hear about recent tragedies—
whether
accidental or all-too-intentional—
we
can assume that such things are doled out as divine punishment.
We
must have messed up.
We
must deserve it.
And
yet, deep down, we might also know that we don’t.
Very
often, it’s the innocent who suffer most.
So
what’s going on here?
Is
God failing us? Of course not.
Frequently,
suffering just happens—
or
if somebody’s brought it on, then it’s not God, but us.
Suffering
is part of the lot of fallen humanity.
But
we are not abandoned to face it alone.
Did
you hear what God said to Moses from the burning bush?
“I
have witnessed the affliction of my people.
I
know well what they are suffering.
Therefore
I have come down to rescue them.”
Israel’s
cries have not gone unnoticed!
God
plans to take their suffering and turn it around—
for
their good and his glory—
leading
them out of Egypt, through the sea, across the desert,
and
into a land flowing with milk and honey.
And
that’s just what God wants to do whenever we suffer!
Where
we can see only hurt and hardship,
the
Lord is able to see a rich opportunity.
As
one of our spiritual directors in the seminary used to say,
“God
is the great recycler:
he
never wastes any of our experiences.”
That’s
one of the distinguishing characteristics of the Christian faith!
For
followers of Jesus, suffering is not without meaning.
In
fact, suffering is even redemptive if we join it to the Cross.
What
God can do with the manure of human suffering,
he
can also do with the manure of human sinfulness—
which,
although we hate to admit it,
is quite
a pile of our own making.
Having
grown up on a farm,
I
feel rather qualified to expound
on
some of the finer points concerning manure
and
its notable fertilizing potential.
For
one thing, it’s important to realize that,
in
its original, raw state, manure is actually harmful to plants.
It
kills them, rather than providing them with nutrition.
But
if you take the time to stir it up (and do so rather regularly),
exposing
it to the light and the air,
then
that manure becomes something
which
helps fields and gardens (strawberries and fig trees)
to
just grow and grow and grow—
transformed
from something that brought death
into
something that gives life.
Do
you see where this going?
Jesus
warns that, if we don’t repent, we’re doomed to perish.
But
if we do repent—if we allow God to cultivate and fertilize us—
then
not only will our life be saved,
but
we’ll bear good fruit.
At
the request of Pope Francis,
in
observance of the Jubilee Year of Mercy,
our
parish—for the whole of Franklin Deanery—
is
hosting something called “24 Hours for the Lord.”
This
coming Friday and Saturday,
there
will be 24 hours straight of Eucharistic adoration here in this church,
along
with 16 hours set aside for confession—
with
two priests always available.
Don’t
miss this grace-filled opportunity!
Come
kneel on holy ground—not before a burning bush,
but
before the Eucharistic Heart of Jesus,
all
aflame with love and mercy!
That
Sacred Heart—
really
and truly present in the Sacrament of the Altar—
is
the one that suffered for you and suffers with you.
You
face none of life’s troubles alone!
And
come meet the Lord, too, in the Sacrament of Penance.
Good
preparation for confession is essential
for
this sacrament to be fruitful.
including
a thorough examination of conscience—
is
in your bulletin today
to
help you dig deep and turn things over in your heart.
Then
come, confess your sins, exposing them to the light and air.
Sure,
it can be a stinky, messy process,
but
it’s absolutely essential if you want that manure
The
Lord is a most patient gardener—
carefully,
lovingly coaxing even the most barren plant back to life,
that
it might flourish and bear the good fruit of his Kingdom.
So
take courage when life throws manure!
It simply means God wants you to grow.
It simply means God wants you to grow.
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