First Sunday of Lent, Year C

Man of Sorrows, William Dyce, ca. 1860

One of the enduring memories that I have growing up on the farm as a boy and young man was the annual spring ritual of picking stones from the fields that we had tilled for the planting of corn or a new seeding of hay crop.  After the fields had been plowed and then harrowed, we would enter into the field, often the whole family, accompanying our tractor with its bucket loader.  Each of us would begin this methodical search for stones that were large enough to cause damage to the crop planting and harvesting machinery.  When we found those stones, we would then pick them up and throw them, or carry and drop them, into the tractor bucket.  With the largest stones, the best we could do was to pry them up out of the brown earth with our hands and roll and flop them into the tractor bucket.


The image in my mind’s eye of the barren stony field with its brown tilled earth, and our methodical wandering back and forth, back and forth, back and forth in front of the tractor searching for stones to pick, conjures a parallel image of the Israelites wandering in the barren desert, a story we are reminded of by Moses in the first reading we heard today — a story not just of the Israelites wandering in the desert alone but, as Moses reminds them, wandering accompanied by God who heard their cry, saw their affliction, their toil, and their oppression, and led and accompanied them out of that.  They were not alone; God was with them in the midst of their deserts and provided for them.  We are encouraged to remember this today, as we wander in our own desert fields, picking stones from our lives:  God is with us, by our sides, in our midst.  And God the Son, Jesus Christ, invites us to seek his help in doing so.  He tells us:  “Come to me, all you who are burdened, and I will give you rest.” (Mt 11:28) 


It is desert and stones again that we hear of also in the Gospel passage.  Jesus Christ has been in a self-sacrificing fast in the desert, is hungry, and is tempted by the devil to use his power to turn stones into bread and to feed on them.  He resists the temptation — pointing to and drawing strength from reliance on God. 


Are we often tempted to feed on the stones that we carry in the desert fields of our lives?  How often are those stones temptations, not to feed on something seemingly desirable, like bread, but rather to feed on that which is unpalatable — such as stones of bitterness, animosity, anger, discord, fear, discouragement, or useless anxiety.  I think those are just as often the weighty stones we carry in our desert fields and that we may be tempted to feed on.  It takes conscious effort to reach out to God for grace, in even the simplest of prayers, to resist these temptations, recognizing that often God’s grace comes through others around us who help us, support us, and love us.  Let us not forget that we have in Jesus Christ one who, like us, has been similarly tested through what he endured; he is able to help us who are being tested (cf Heb 2:18).  One who invites us:  “Come to me, all you who are burdened, and I will give you rest.”  Jesus invites us to give him our burdens, our stones — whatever they may be:  bitterness, animosity, anger, judgmentalism, fear, discouragement, anxiety — all of the things that ultimately rob us of the joy God and Christ desire for us. 



We have an invitation and a choice to give these over to Christ —to let go of these stones.  It is an invitation and choice that is mirrored symbolically in our parish invitation in the bulletin over the last few weeks to leave a stone at the foot of Christ’s Cross here in the well throughout Lent.  A ritual act of handing over, letting go, and letting God; letting God take our stones which do not and cannot feed us, and instead feed us with his True Food and life-giving Word and Spirit.  If you have not thought to bring a stone from home, fear not; there are a bucket of them here in the well.  And, don’t worry about dropping your stone on the burlap desert sands; there is plenty of padding underneath!  And as we leave our stones behind, maybe we can pick up and take away with us the kindness Fr. Chris invited us to share in his homily on Ash Wednesday; kindness that we feed each other with, looking out for each other, loving each other.  It’ll be the same kindness that will end up feeding us.

Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

By Rev. Christopher Welch • July 31, 2026
The gospel begins with the words: When Jesus heard of the death of John the Baptist.... John is Jesus’ cousin; John is the one who leaped in his mother's womb when he met Jesus in his mother’s womb. John is the one who baptized Jesus and now Jesus hears that John is dead by being beheaded. Jesus is in grief and wants to be alone. We are told that in his grief, Jesus went off to be alone. Word gets out where Jesus is and all the people show up looking for him to heal and feed them. We are told that Jesus’ heart is full of compassion for the people. Rather than telling them to go away, to let him be, he heals them. This is the life of a disciple – people are not in need on my schedule. When people show up, I need to attend to them. We can never do ministry with our eye on the clock. Although he was tired and in grief, Jesus cared for the people. He knew he could not be there always and his disciples would need to help out. When the disciples tell Jesus the people are hungry, the disciples were the hungry ones. Jesus tells them to give them something yourselves. This is Jesus’ way of calling them to act as disciples. I have fed them with my words; if they need food for their bodies, give it to them yourselves. The disciples find five loaves and two fish. Jesus offers a prayer. Jesus gives thanks for what has been provided, an action of gratitude. He then gives them to the disciples to distribute. Jesus is asking them to continue his ministry by feeding the people. What is left over fills 12 baskets; the number 12 reminds us of the 12 tribes. Jesus has come to feed the whole world. Jesus provides the feast and we as disciples share what we have been given with others. The five loaves and two fish are enough to feed the crowd and provide many leftovers. Our God is a God of abundance. What God has provided is not wasted and what God has provided is given to us by disciples who participate in God’s work. If we are to be disciples, we need to learn how to feed others. Like Jesus, we may find that being a disciple interrupts our life. When someone is in need we attend, we put aside our own agenda for a time and attend to the person in need. Our grief may come later after we care for the person in need. Those who were fed echo the words of Isaiah in the first reading. They come and are fed body and soul. The feeding of the soul are the words of Jesus and the feeding of the body comes from the hands of the disciples.

Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

By Rev. Christopher Welch • July 26, 2026
For many old movie buffs, the movie King Solomon's Mines is a classic. Our first reading tells the story of King Solomon and his prayer for wisdom. “For the treasures of his heart, not his mines, Solomon is rightly remembered.” The parables speak of searching for treasure; for us the treasure is our relationship with God. The one who found the treasure in the field sells all he has to buy the field. The merchant searching for pearls sells all when he finds one that is perfect. Today we are asked to consider: What is my treasure? What is my pearl of great price? What is so important I would sell all I have to possess it? In the parables Jesus is speaking about the kingdom of God. What is more important to us than the kingdom of God? What would I sell to possess the kingdom of God? I am reminded of a story by Fr. Anthony DeMello, a priest from India: When a holy man reached the outskirts of the village and settled under a tree for the night, a villager came running up to him and said, “The stone! The stone! Give me the precious stone!” “What stone?” asked the holy man. “Last night Lord Shiva told me in a dream that if I went to the outskirts of the village at dusk, a holy man would give me a stone that would make me rich forever.” The holy man rummaged in his sack and, pulling out a stone, he said, “He probably meant this one. I found it in the forest yesterday. Here, it’s yours if you want it.” The man gazed at the stone in wonder. It was the largest diamond in the world – the size of a man’s head. All night he tossed about in bed. At break of day he woke the holy man and said, “Give me the wealth that makes it possible for you to give this stone away.” The kingdom of God is not something we possess, but something we seek for and when we find it, we share it with others.

Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

By Deacon Paul Cerosaletti • July 19, 2026
There is a 16-acre field that stretches up behind my house on what used to be my father’s farm. This spring, the farmer that rents that field planted a “new seeding” of alfalfa haycrop, rotating it out of corn production from the previous year. He tilled the soil, carefully incorporating the remains of the previous corn crop, making the ground level. He then rolled it with a large smooth roller to smooth the ground, push down the stones and make a firm seedbed. He seeded the alfalfa, and then rolled the ground again, making sure there was good seed-soil contact, to ensure the alfalfa, which too is the smallest of seeds, would germinate. Then he left the field. And waited. And hoped. And trusted. For the planting of seed is an act of faith.  That field of newly seeded alfalfa behind my house sprang up with great vigor in May and early June. It looked wonderful — a solid stand. The rain in the third week of June benefited the crop as it was getting dry, but brought with it as well a flush of an unwanted crop — weeds! This farming reality mirrors Jesus’s reminder in the parable that with the good seed of God sown and growing, there will always be weeds of the world — be they people, places, or things — that will compete with the growth of God’s Kingdom. In perhaps a surprising twist in the parable, the farmer instructs the laborers not to pull the weeds, lest they uproot the good crop as well. This is an exhortation to trust and patience in the action of God. While weeds can be devastating to a crop, in the Kingdom of God, it's important to remember that these weeds were once sown as good seed. St. Isadore of Pelusium, a fifth-century Desert Father of the Church, taught that God, the Master of the Harvest, is patient , and the weeds are not to be immediately pulled and burned, in order to give time for us to repent and mend our ways, that we might become good grain again. What? Weeds turned into good grain? Impossible, we think? But St. Isadore reminds us, lest we forget, of the striking examples of St. Peter and St. Paul, who strayed in sin, and yet with God’s grace and repentance went on to yield good and abundant fruit. Indeed, this is the story of so many of the saints! Thanks be to God for a merciful Father who “[gives] his children good ground for hope that [he] would permit repentance for [our] sins” (Wis 12:19b) — giving us a chance to become good grain again! One more thing about that field of newly-seeded alfalfa that became full of weeds. It was what we would term a “clear seeding”, which is a seeding solely of the intended principal crop (alfalfa in this case). There is another strategy that farmers employ to manage weeds in a new seeding, which is to plant them with another intended crop, usually a small grain like oats or barley. We call this other crop a companion crop . The companion springs up early and outcompetes the weeds, holding them at bay. Yet, due to its narrow but tall stature, it allows light down into the canopy to nurture the alfalfa. The result is two intended crops that thrive, helping each other yield a valuable and bountiful harvest. This agricultural practice reminds us that we are never Christians in isolation, but are indeed Christians in communion — companions that help each other on the journey towards the eternal harvest. That journey is the journey of holiness. The Church teaches that we are all called to holiness. That is our ultimate state of being for which we each are created. God sows us as companion crops for each other that we might help each other to grow in holiness, helping each other along the way by example and by deeds of love, kindness, and mercy, which sometimes include fraternal correction. Deeds which sometimes are the smallest of seeds, but grow to have the greatest of effect on each other. When we help each other grow in holiness, we fill the world with companion crops, keeping the weeds of the world at bay.