Sunday, June 13, 2021
Once there were two monks making a pilgrimage. When they came to the ford of a broad river, they saw a beautiful woman standing on the riverbank crying. The young monk asked her, “Why are you crying?”
“I must cross the river,” she replied, “but I cannot without ruining my clothing and this is the finest silk I own.”
Without a word, the young monk lifted her in his arms and carried her across the river safely to the other side. The monks continued on in silence. Finally, the young monk said, “Father, you look troubled. What is the matter?”
The old monk began to criticize his young companion severely not only for speaking with the woman, but for touching her and carrying her in his arms.
When he had finished, the young monk turned to him and said, “But Father, I put her down on the other side of the river. You are carrying her still.”
This story is not a fable. There is no moral. It’s not an allegory. The elements in it don’t represent anything but themselves. This is a parable. It’s a story with a message you can acquire just by pondering it, and the more you think about it, the richer its meaning becomes.
Jesus taught in parables. Some in the crowds who listened to him got the message; some did not. The disciples were the fortunate ones, not because Jesus spelled out the meaning of his parables for them, but because they had a chance to talk about them with him and dig deeper.
What did the young monk see? What was his concern? What was in his heart when he made his decision? Were his motives simple, or was he conflicted? What was the old monk feeling? Why did he decide not to act? Was his anger at the young monk pure? What were his real concerns? What were his motives?
When Jesus and his disciples discussed his parables, I’m certain that those were the kinds of questions they tossed around among themselves. Remember that Jesus taught in parables. A good teacher encourages questioning and discussion. There are no “wrong” questions. Good teaching is not so much the imparting of knowledge, but the providing of opportunities for students—disciples—to make connections and grow in understanding.
So, the Reign of God grows like planted seeds. What is it with seeds that they grow? What’s the cause? What does the person who plants the seeds do to make them grow? Can farmers see their seeds growing? How do they know? What happens when seedlings encounter obstacles? What does that teach you about life? What can you say about the universe from observing a growing seed? What does that say about the power of God? What would a seed say to the powers of destruction and death in the world? What would the Reign of God say to the powers of evil? What would you say?
This may be the first time in your life that you’ve actually wrestled with a real parable. You have a remarkable opportunity today. You’ve been given two of Jesus’s parables to consider. You have a choice. You can listen to them like the crowds who followed Jesus and say, “Isn’t that nice,” and go on about your day as usual, learning nothing. Or you can pick up your booklet later today, reread what was read, and start asking questions like the disciples did and like I just did. No one—not Jesus, not the Church, and not I—no one can tell you what lessons you will learn from meditating on these or any parables. The Reign of God will become for you the understanding you will gain by questioning it. If you were listening to my questions, you’ve already gained some new insights that are capable of changing your perspective on life. Why stop now?