How, then, will you understand?

 I heard an interesting comment on the radio recently, but unfortunately cannot give credit to the speaker as I don't know who was relating the story.  He mentioned that in Mark's account of the parable of the sower, the disciples asked Jesus about the parable.  Jesus' reply was, "Don't you understand this parable?  How then will you understand any parable?"

Now the speaker was puzzled about this comment.  What is it about this parable that seems to be the key to all of the other parables?  Why is it that we will not understand any parable if we don't understand this one?  

And then it dawned on him:  This parable is about opening our hearts to the word of God.  The good soil receives and nurtures the Word of God, and it grows, producing a crop.  If we do not receive the Word with an open heart, we cannot understand anything in the spiritual realm.  

One of the psalms says, "In your light, we see light."  Jesus gave light to the blind and opened the ears of the deaf, but those were not isolated miracles.  What He did in the physical realm, He also does in the spiritual realm.  If we cannot see God at work in our lives or understand Scripture, we probably need to call out with the blind man, "Lord, I want to see!"  

Jesus is the Sower of the Word; the Spirit waters the soul and prepares us to see, hear, and grow the Word of God in our hearts.

Looking for Grace

 A few weeks ago, I read a book called The Daily Examen by Chad Torgerson.  Based on the journals of St. Ignatius of Loyola, the daily examen is a short prayer of practice at the end of each day.  At first, I thought this practice referred to a daily examination of conscience, a practice I had heard about growing up.  However, this is not really the same thing at all, although it may include an examination of conscience.

The daily examen rather is a practice of reflection on where grace has appeared during the day, and giving thanks for those moments.  The brief evening prayer may also include looking back over one's sins (or general grumpiness, for that matter) and asking for the grace to overcome these weaknesses.  The key concept is that we are looking for God's presence in our lives, however.

The practice was so simple that I started doing it immediately.  Within a week, I was noticing the graced moments of the day not in the evening, but as they occurred, and giving thanks for them at the moment they occurred.  One day, as my sister and I had spent the day painting the house I am trying to sell, I loaded my purse, lunch bag, and pieces of used cardboard in the car to head home, exhausted.  As I crossed the railroad tracks about half a block away from the house, I suddenly realized that I had forgotten the antibiotic I was taking.  I knew I could not skip 2 or 3 doses until the next day, so had I arrived home without the medicine, I would have had to make the return trip to retrieve it.

I was so grateful to my guardian angel or whoever whispered in my mind that I forgot how tired I was just being thankful.  Now I find moments of joy every day, as I say to myself, "That was a graced moment!"  I guess you might say this simple practice is like walking in the presence of God all day!

The Ultimate Question

Sooner or later, I think, everyone will have to answer the question Jesus asked of Peter: Who do you say that I am?

Here our religion does not matter so much as the question.  Every man, woman, and child will have to face Jesus himself and answer the question:  Who do you say that I am?

In Mere Christianity, C. S. Lewis beautifully summed up our choices in his own question:  Lord, Liar, or Lunatic?  According to Lewis, the one option we do not have is to say that Jesus was/is a great moral teacher, but not who He claimed to be -- the Son of God.  According to Lewis, anyone who said the things Jesus said had to be speaking the truth -- or else He was lying, or He was a lunatic.  

The Jews who heard Him teach were horrified by His blasphemy, as they saw it:  [We are stoning you for blasphemy] because you, a mere man, claim to be God (John 10).

For this reason, the Jews tried all the harder to kill him; not only was he breaking the Sabbath, but he was even calling God his own Father, making himself equal with God (John 5).

I think anyone who reads the Gospel of John -- or any one of the Gospels, for that matter --- with this question in mind will begin to see Jesus as the Son of God, made flesh for our sake.

And then the next question will follow:  Why do you call me "Lord" and not do the things that I say?

Indeed, a question all of us will have to answer someday!