The Sower and the Seed … an image in the East Window in Holy Trinity Church, Rathkeale, Co Limerick (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2021)
Patrick Comerford
Sunday next, 13 June 2021, is the Second Sunday after Trinity (Trinity II). The appointed readings for Sunday in the Revised Common Lectionary, as adapted for use in the Church of Ireland, are:
The Continuous Readings: I Samuel 15: 34 to 16: 13, Psalm 20; II Corinthians 5: 6-10 (11-13), 14-17; and Mark 4: 26-34.
The Paired Readings: Ezekiel 17: 22-24; Psalm 92: 1-4, 12-15; II Corinthians 5: 6-10 (11-13), 14-17; and Mark 4: 26-34.
There is a link to the readings HERE.
The readings and other resources are found in Proper 6 for Year B, when the Sunday between 12 and 18 June falls after Trinity Sunday.
This posting provides commentaries on each reading, an idea for a sermon based on the Gospel reading, the propers, suggested hymns and other litirgical resources.
‘The earth produces of itself’ (Mark 4: 28) … summer flowers in the gardens at Kells Bay House near Cahersiveeen, Co Kerry (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2021)
Introducing the Readings:
Like a sower scattering seed, I sometimes think of God sowing seeds in the minds of many people, that eventually grow into the full bloom.
In the Gospel reading (Mark 4: 26-34), Christ tells two parables: the first is the story of how seed that is scattered on the ground sprouts, grows and produces full grain at harvest time; the second is the story of how the mustard seed, the smallest of all seeds, grows into the greatest of all shrubs.
It is an unfortunate fact of life that people who set out to be high achievers regret that over the span of a career they have never blossomed into great trees. Instead, they think that in the sight of other people they have remained small twigs or leaves on the tree, and that when they die, like a falling leaf, they will be forgotten and be of no further value to others.
Yet, when death is at our doorstep, none of us is going to be worried about the obituary pages or whether we will be judged by our achievements.
When he was interviewed on RTÉ three years ago [29 May 2018] by Ray Darcy, the late Gay Byrne spoke of his achievements and regrets over a long career that spanned 60 years. He admitted candidly that his biggest regrets were having worked too hard and given too much time to RTÉ when he could have spent more time with his children as they were growing up.
Bronnie Ware, an Australian nurse, has worked for several years in palliative care, caring for patients in the last 12 weeks of their lives. She has counselled the dying in their last days and has tried to find out what are the most common regrets we have at the end of our lives.
Among the top, from men in particular, is: ‘I wish I hadn’t worked so hard.’
Despite what the Poet Laureate Sir John Betjeman once said about end-of-life regrets, there was no mention of more sex. Nor was there any mention of media profiles or better job titles.
In her best-selling book, The Top Five Regrets of the Dying, which has been read by over a million people worldwide and translated into 29 languages, Bronnie Ware lists the top five regrets we have when we are dying:
1, I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.
2, I wish I hadn’t worked so hard.
3, I wish I’d had the courage to express my feelings.
4, I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends.
5, I wish that I had let myself be happier.
What is your greatest regret in life, so far?
And what will you set out to achieve or change before you die?
Our intrinsic, individual value does not depend on how useful we were to the projects of others. It is seen, instead, when we were truly ourselves, when we spend time with those we love and those who love us, when we were in touch with our feelings, when we valued our friendships, when we were happy rather than ambitious.
We are blessed when we come to the point of realising that love is more important than ambition, when we know friendships are more important than careers, when we know we are blessed by others not because of what they do, but simply because they are.
And when we love, when we can cry together, then we can laugh together too.
John Betjeman was a press attaché in Dublin during World War II. He was immensely popular during his time in Dublin, learning the Irish language, socialising in pubs, and becoming friends with many of Dublin’s journalists and literary figures. When his official stay in Dublin came to an end in 1943, his departure made one of those great stories on the front page of The Irish Times.
In one of his less well-known poems, ‘The Last Laugh,’ included in his 1974 collection, A Nip in the Air, John Betjeman wrote:
I made hay while the sun shone.
My work sold.
Now, if the harvest is over
And the world cold,
Give me the bonus of laughter
As I lose hold.
When we recall friends and family members who have lost their hold on life, do we allow ourselves to put aside their regrets and our regrets in life?
As part of the great tree of life, whether they were tiny twigs, small leaves, little branches or great big trunks, we can remember them with the bonus of laughter and with the bonus of love. For without them, we would not be who we are today.
King David (left) and King Solomon (right) in a window by Heaton, Butler and Bayne in Saint Michael’s Church, Limerick (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
I Samuel 15: 34 to 16: 13:
In this first reading, we are told how David had been chosen and called by God long before he was anointed by Samuel. But God also calls a wonderful and diverse group of people to serve his Church and his world.
David may have been God’s choice, but he was not a natural first choice. Samuel’s instinct was to anoint Jesse’s son Eliab, who seems to have been tall and handsome (see 16: 7) and who was the classical insider.
In all, seven of Jesse’s sons are brought before Samuel, including Abinadab and Shammah. But David was in danger of being overlooked. Despite having beautiful eyes, he was small and ruddy, the youngest son and the outsider, out watching the sheep (verses 11-12).
The decision-making process is not about what Samuel thinks is right, nor is it about what Jesse wants for his sons. Rather, it is about listening carefully and patiently to what God wants in God’s own time.
Of course, later on, David’s life was far from perfect, morally or politically, in his family or in society. But, for all these failures, David tried to live well because of his enduring and steadfast love for God.
‘I will plant it, in order that it may produce boughs and bear fruit, and become a noble cedar’ (Ezekiel 17: 23) … a young girl with a violin and her friend beneath a cedar tree at Curraghchase (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2020)
Ezekiel 17: 22-24:
These verses provide a messianic prophecy that God will provide the Messiah from the royal line of David (the highest cedar) and establish him in his kingdom like a mountain. He will be a high branch’ reigning in the height of success. ‘Branch’ is a Messianic title. The Messiah will be ‘a tender one’ growing into ‘a noble cedar.’ Through his kingdom rule, all the nations will flourish.
The Messiah is truly the highest branch and the true heir of David. The ‘high and lofty mountain’ is the holy hill of God, Mount Zion. The boughs and the fruit speak of his followers.
This messianic allegory is presented with the reference to the branch also found in Isaiah 11: 1, Jeremiah 23: 5-6, and Zechariah 3: 8, which grows to be ‘a majestic cedar.’ One of the main references to this verse in the Gospels is the Parable of the Mustard Seed in part of this Sunday’s Gospel reading (see Mark 4: 30-32).
‘Some take pride in chariots, and some in horses, but our pride is in the name of the Lord our God’ (Psalm 20: 7) … part of the Parthenon frieze in the Acropolis Museum in Athens (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Psalm 20:
There are many words and phrases in this psalm that at first glance suggest a great conviction that the Lord will grant whatever we wish, as long as we have enough faith. But this is, at the very least, an over-simplification.
Several of the verses in Psalm 20 start with the word ‘may’ (see verses 2, 3, 4, 5a, 5b in the NRSV and NRSVA translations; verses 1, 5a and 5b in the Book of Common Prayer Psalter, pp 612-613).
This may suggest that what follows is not guaranteed to come to pass, but we are also asked to consider whether what we desire is the same as what God desires. God knows better than us what we need and what we want.
At the same time, God is our loving father we should not be afraid to ask for things. Verses 6, 7 and 8 are perhaps a good illustration of this point: if the Lord will help or save his anointed (verse 6), then as God’s children we can be sure God will help us.
‘It is good to give thanks to the Lord … to the music of the lute and the harp, to the melody of the lyre’ (Psalm 92: 1-3) … lutes in a music shop in Rethymnon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Psalm 92: 1-4, 12-15:
Psalm 92, known in Hebrew as Mizmor Shir L’yom HaShabbat, is dedicated to the Shabbat day. Although it can be recited any day, in Jewish tradition it is generally reserved for Shabbat and is also recited during the morning services on festival days.
According to a story in the Midrash, Psalm 92 was said by Adam, who was created on Friday and said this psalm at the onset of the Shabbat. It is not a psalm that speaks about the Shabbat, but one that was said on the Shabbat: this was Adam’s first day of existence and he marvelled at the work of the Creator.
The Requiem Ebraico (Hebrew Requiem) (1945), by the Austrian-American composer Eric Zeisl (1905-1959) is his setting in 1945 of Psalm 92. It is dedicated to the memory of the composer’s father ‘and the other countless victims of the Jewish tragedy in Europe.’ The premiere of the Requiem Ebraico was performed in the Hollywood First Methodist Church, Los Angeles, on 8 April 1945, with Hugo Strelitzer conducting the Fairfax Temple Choir. It is often regarded as the first major work of Holocaust commemoration.
Psalm 92 is connected with a story about the legend of the Golem in Prague in the 16th century. Rabbi Judah Loew ben Bezalel is said to have been endowed with supernatural gifts. He brought together the four elements of fire, water, air and earth to bring to life to the Golem, a sculpture moulded from the mud of the riverbed. The Golem grew stronger and stronger, however, and instead of heroic deeds, he became uncontrollable and destructive. Rabbi Loew was promised that anti-Semitic violence would end in Prague once he destroyed the Golem.
One day, the Golem was found uprooting trees and destroying the rabbi’s home while the rabbi was in the synagogue singing Psalm 92. The rabbi rushed out to remove the tablet from the Golem’s mouth. Fearing the Golem could fall into the wrong hands, Rabbi Loew smeared clay on the Golem’s forehead, turning emet into met, so that the Hebrew word for truth became the Hebrew word for death and life was taken out of the giant’s body.
Rabbi Loew put him to rest in the attic of the Old-New Synagogue. The rabbi then returned and continued to sing Psalm 92 … and so, it is said, the Old-New Synagogue in Prague is the only place in the world where this psalm is sung twice.
‘Everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new!’ (II Corinthians 5: 17) … the old reflected in the new on a corner of South Great George’s Street, Dublin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
II Corinthians 5: 6-10 (11-13), 14-17:
‘Everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new!’ (verse 17).
If the primary concern of the first readings is to emphasise the limitations of the perception of fallen humanity on the one hand and the limitless possibilities for God on the other, it seems that Saint Paul wishes to address what this means in the life of Christians.
Of course, Saint Paul does so within the context of the life, death and resurrection of Christ (verse 14-15), the central truth and mystery of the Christian faith. Given that we can never understand everything, to say that ‘we walk by faith, not by sight’ (verse 7) does not mean that our faith is blind or that our faith should be completely divorced from reason and reality.
But we must recognise our limitations and our shortcomings and be willing to move beyond them in faith. Direct, historic, human knowledge and experience tells us something about the figure of Christ, and that gives us a foundation on which faith by grace can grow.
‘The seed would sprout and grow’ (Mark 4: 27) … trees and a shaded garden in Platanias in suburban Rethymnon, Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Mark 4: 26-34:
Chapter 4 in Saint Mark’s Gospel is the ‘parables chapter,’ recalling parables that make this chapter the central teaching section of this Gospel. Christ is the a boat beside the sea teaching a very large crowd who are listening on the shore (see Mark 4: 1-2).
In the Gospel reading, Christ tries to describe the ‘kingdom of God’ using images of a sower scattering seed on the ground in the hope and expectation of the harvest (verses 26-29) and of the mustard seed that grows into a great tree (verses 30-32).
In the first parable (verses 26-29), Christ is continuing with the themes in the parable of the sower and the seed which he told earlier in this chapter (see Mark 4: 3-9). The sower is confident, because of practical experience and because of knowledge, that when he is sowing the seed it will produce plants and a crop in due season. But this is not always so: there may be storms, rains or other disasters.
The sower must sow, but the sower must also reap. Yet, beyond this, there are external factors over which the sower has no control. So, there is degree to which the sower’s action is also an act of faith.
In the second parable (verses 30-32), Christ suggests the vastness of the ‘kingdom of God’ and the fact that it grows from seemingly insignificant beginnings.
Great trees, such as cedars, were symbols of empires and great kingdoms (see Ezekiel 17: 22-23; Daniel 4: 20-22). But mustard plants only grew a few feet high.
As in the story of David, God’s work may have small beginnings, or in those we may see as insignificant or overlook.
The final two verses (33-34) refer to Christ’s method of teaching through parables. The wording once again challenges us to be aware of our expectations and the limits of our perceptions.
The Lavender Field, Kilmacanogue, Co Wicklow … an example of planning carefully and reaping the benefits over the years (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
A sermon illustration
I am not good at sowing, not good at growing plants or trees, and certainly not good at growing them from seed.
I like to explain this away by excuses such as heavy hay fever since childhood or claiming I do not have green fingers. But to tell the truth it may be because of a combination of faults: because I expect quick results and because I expect perfection.
I enjoy sitting in the garden, reading, eating in the open, listening to the fountain, but not wedding the flower beds, tending the plants or mowing the lawn.
In short, I don’t do gardening, I don’t do garden centres.
But on two consecutive afternoons some years ago, I found myself unexpectedly appreciating gardens and growing and growth: on one afternoon I visited the National Botanic Gardens in Dublin; on the second afternoon I found myself admiring the Lavender Field at Avoca in Kilmacanogue, Co Wicklow.
In both cases, these are places where people with vision did not expect immediate results.
The Botanic Gardens were founded in Glasnevin in 1795 by people with vision such as the Speaker of the Irish House of Commons, John Foster. But it was another 40 years or more before the basic shape of the gardens was established by 1838.
David Moore, who was appointed curator that year, had the vision to develop the glasshouse accommodation, and he commissioned Richard Turner, the great Dublin ironmaster, to provide an iron house to replace the previous wooden house.
Work on the main curvilinear glasshouse started in 1843. It was a vision for the future and a gift to the future. Those who planned it and devoted their energy to building those glasshouses in Glasnevin had no idea of the pleasure they were bequeathing to future generations, and today the glasshouses in the Botanic Gardens stand as a great achievement of Victorian engineering, planning and vision.
In many ways, the buildings they planned and the seeds sown in them have brought forth not just thirtyfold, but sixtyfold, a hundredfold, and perhaps even more.
Today, the living collections at the National Botanic Gardens include over 300 endangered species from around the world, and six species already extinct in the wild. These are a vital resource, and the staff there speak of them like a ‘Noah’s Ark’ for the future.
In those glasshouses, Victorian architecture, engineering, art and science come together.
Without careful, measured, timing and proper planning we would not see the results today.
The Lavender Field in Kilmacanogue, on the edge of the N11 outside Bray, is a more recent example of planning carefully and reaping the benefits in measured ways over the years.
The Lavender Farm owes its origins to Brian Cox and Donald Pratt, who had the idea in 1983 of starting an Irish perfume company, and moved to Kilmacangoue in 1987. Some of their fragrances are sourced from lavender from their own field, across the road from their offices in Kilmacanogue.
Forty years later, this ‘field of dreams,’ nestling between the two Sugarloaf mountains, is producing top quality lavender oil and provides the inspiration for many of the company’s ideas. The lavender is harvested every summer at this time of the year, and the Lavender Harvest Party celebrates nature’s amazing gift of the golden oil from the lavender.
Some of the lavender is actually growing along the roadside, even on the rocky waste left on the margins of the N11 as it is being converted into the M11. But without the seed that had fallen by the roadside and the rocky places, I might never have noticed the lavender that is growing on the deep, rich soil, and producing this abundant harvest.
Nonetheless, this lavender field has taken a generation to reach the maturity that is its glory today.
Too often we expect immediate results. And too often we judge whether a project is a success or a failure by asking whether it is producing immediate, measurable, visible apparent results. If not, we dismiss that project as an immediate failure.
Just because something works now does not mean it is right for the future. Just because something does not work now does not mean it is wrong for the future.
It is not the fault of the seed that it has fallen on rocky soil, or landed on the roadway, or been burned up in the mid-day sun. God scatters where he will, abundantly and generously.
On the other hand, we can achieve little by our own innate qualities or abilities. We are all inter-dependent – just like the seed, which depends on soil, sun, rain and the right conditions.
Why does some of the seed yield better results? – some of it is immeasurably better than that other seed.
Growth occurs without us seeing or knowing it. Yet we can have such limited expectations of God.
Why does God allow certain people to do this, that or the other?
Why does God allow particular people or nations to prosper?
Why does God seemingly reward the wayward and the careless, those I who would prefer to see left on rocky soil or would pass by on the side of the road?
If only God behaved a little more like I do, or like I want him to, would this not be a far, far better world?
Would this not be a far, far better society?
Would this not be a far, far better Church?
And so on.
At the moment, we are very worried in the Church about attendance figures in the post-lockdown times, and whether those numbers are going to grow again.
I sometimes, just sometimes, wonder whether we are already neglecting our own inheritance, the harvest of the seeds that have already been planted, the promise that was made to past generations.
If we are going to look to the future, perhaps, and I am only saying perhaps, our first exercise in mission should be in building up our present congregations and parishes, in reaching out to the other 85% who think they have fallen on the pathway, on the rock soil or have been gobbled up by other fly-by Sunday pursuits.
There is hope. There is hope for our dwindling and small congregations. If we have hope in the seeds sown in the past, if we pay attention to the potential harvest, if we look with faith and hope to the future, first among the other 85%, then there is no reason to fret about present figures.
Like the Victorian engineers who had vision in Glasnevin almost two centuries ago, we may not see the growth that follows our work today. But there is no need to fear that small and dwindling congregations are setting the course for the future.
Let us not look for immediate and short-term growth today, but look to those who already have had the seeds of faith, and hope and love sown in them at their baptism, in their childhood, with their confirmation. And then, perhaps, we need not fret about the future.
The ‘Sower’ window in Holy Trinity Church, Rathkeale, Co Limerick (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Mark 4: 26-34 (NRSVA):
26 [Jesus] also said, ‘The kingdom of God is as if someone would scatter seed on the ground, 27 and would sleep and rise night and day, and the seed would sprout and grow, he does not know how. 28 The earth produces of itself, first the stalk, then the head, then the full grain in the head. 29 But when the grain is ripe, at once he goes in with his sickle, because the harvest has come.’
30 He also said, ‘With what can we compare the kingdom of God, or what parable will we use for it? 31 It is like a mustard seed, which, when sown upon the ground, is the smallest of all the seeds on earth; 32 yet when it is sown it grows up and becomes the greatest of all shrubs, and puts forth large branches, so that the birds of the air can make nests in its shade.’
33 With many such parables he spoke the word to them, as they were able to hear it; 34 he did not speak to them except in parables, but he explained everything in private to his disciples.
‘The seed would sprout and grow’ (Mark 4: 27) … the garden in the cloisters in Arkadi Monastery in Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Liturgical resources:
Liturgical Colour: Green
The Collect of the Day:
Lord, you have taught us
that all our doings without love are nothing worth:
Send your Holy Spirit
and pour into our hearts that most excellent gift of love,
the true bond of peace and of all virtues,
without which whoever lives is counted dead before you.
Grant this for your only Son Jesus Christ’s sake.
The Collect of the Word:
Almighty God,
without you we are unable to please you:
mercifully grant that your Holy Spirit
may in all things direct and rule our hearts:
through Jesus Christ our Lord.
The Post-Communion Prayer:
Loving Father,
we thank you for feeding us at the supper of your Son.
Sustain us with your Spirit,
that we may serve you here on earth
until our joy is complete in heaven,
and we share in the eternal banquet
with Jesus Christ our Lord.
The Sower and the Seed … an image in the East Window by Mayer & Co in Saint Michael’s Church, Limerick (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Suggested hymns:
I Samuel 15: 34 to 16: 13:
630, Blessed are the pure in heart
125, Hail to the Lord’s anointed
306, O Spirit of the living God
498, What does the Lord require for praise and offering?
Ezekiel 17: 22-24:
311, Fruitful trees, the Spirit’s sowing
Psalm 20:
643, Be thou my vision, O Lord of my heart
659, Onward Christian soldiers
487, Soldiers of Christ arise
488, Stand up, stand up for Jesus
243, The royal banners forward go
Psalm 92: 1-4, 12-15:
668, God is our fortress and our rock
361, Now thank we all our God
76, Sweet is the work, my God and King
36, We thank you, God our Father
II Corinthians 5: 6-10 (11-13), 14-17:
389, All who believe and are baptised
416, Great God, your love has called us here
226, It is a thing most wonderful
672, Light’s abode, celestial Salem
634, Love divine, all loves excelling
229, My God I love thee; not because
528, The Church’s one foundation
Mark 4: 26-34:
378, Almighty God, your word is cast
37, Come, ye thankful people, come
413, Father, we thank thee who hast planted
39, For the fruits of his creation
125, Hail to the Lord’s anointed
385, Rise and hear! The Lord is speaking
‘Don’t judge the day be the harvest you reap but by the seeds that you sow’ … a sign in a café in Greystones, Co Wicklow (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible: Anglicised Edition copyright © 1989, 1995, National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide. http://nrsvbibles.org
The hymns suggestions are provided in Sing to the Word (2000), edited by Bishop Edward Darling. The hymn numbers refer to the Church of Ireland’s Church Hymnal (5th edition, Oxford: OUP, 2000)
Material from the Book of Common Prayer is copyright © 2004, Representative Body of the Church of Ireland.
The Victorian glasshouses in the National Botanic Gardens, Glasnevin … a lesson in planting seeds with hope for the future (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
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