The Catholic Journey Podcast

The Catholic Journey Podcast
Daily faith-filled reflections

The Catholic Journey

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Friday, June 26, 2026

The Wheat, the Weeds, and the Patient Heart of God (16th Sunday Ordinary Time Year A)

 

My brothers and sisters in Christ,

Today's Gospel from Matthew chapter 13 is one of the most realistic and hopeful teachings Jesus ever gives us.

In just a few short parables, Jesus speaks about good and evil, patience, judgment, faith, and the mysterious way God works in our lives.

He tells us about wheat and weeds growing together in the same field, about a tiny mustard seed that becomes a great tree, and about yeast that quietly transforms an entire batch of dough.

At first, these parables may seem unrelated. But together they reveal a powerful truth: God is always at work, even when we cannot see it.

And that is good news, because many of us come here today carrying burdens, disappointments, worries, and questions.

"Lord, where are You in all of this?"

Today's Gospel answers that question.

Jesus begins by telling us about a farmer who sows good seed in his field. But while everyone is asleep, an enemy comes and sows weeds among the wheat.

When the servants discover the weeds, they are shocked.

"Master, did you not sow good seed in your field? Where have the weeds come from?"

If we're honest, that question sounds very familiar.

"Lord, if You are good, why is there suffering?"

"Why are there divisions in families?"

"Why do good people get sick?"

"Why are there wars, addictions, and broken relationships?"

"Why do I still struggle with the same sins after all these years?"

Jesus answers simply:

"An enemy has done this."

Evil is real. Sin is real. Satan is real.

Jesus never pretends otherwise.

But then something surprising happens.

The servants immediately want to fix the problem.

"Do you want us to pull up the weeds?"

The Master says:

"No, because in pulling up the weeds you may uproot the wheat along with them. Let them grow together until harvest."

And that response may leave us uncomfortable because, if we're honest, most of us prefer immediate solutions.

We want God to act now. We want problems solved today. We want difficult people changed tomorrow.

Yet Jesus reminds us that God's timetable is often different from ours.

And perhaps nowhere is that lesson clearer than in the following story.

Several years ago, a man inherited his father's ranch. His father had lovingly cared for the property for decades, planting trees, flowers, and native plants throughout the land.

The son wanted to honor his father's memory, so he took over caring for the property himself.

One spring he noticed patches of scraggly plants scattered throughout the fields. They looked ugly and out of place.

Determined to clean everything up, he spent an entire weekend pulling them out.

A few months later an elderly neighbor stopped by.

"How's the ranch doing?" he asked.

"Proudly," the son replied, "I finally got rid of all those weeds Dad left behind."

The old neighbor's face fell.

"Son," he said quietly, "those weren't weeds. Your father planted those wildflowers years ago. They bloom late in the summer."

The son had removed some of the most beautiful flowers on the ranch because he judged too quickly.

My brothers and sisters, isn't that often true in our own lives?

How often do we look at people—or even ourselves—and assume that God has finished His work?

How often do we write people off?

The rebellious teenager.

The struggling spouse.

The person battling addiction.

The family member who has drifted away from the Church.

The person who hurt us years ago.

The truth is that God sees what we cannot see.

We see the present.

God sees the future.

We see weakness.

God sees possibility.

We see failure.

God sees redemption.

Think of St. Augustine. For years he lived far from God. Many probably thought he was hopeless.

But through the persistent prayers of his mother, St. Monica, God's grace transformed him into one of the greatest saints in the history of the Church.

God specializes in late bloomers.

 

But before we become too focused on the weeds in other people's lives, today's Gospel gently invites us to look inward.

Because the field Jesus describes is not only the world.

It is also our own hearts.

If we are honest, each one of us is both wheat and weeds.

There is goodness within us because we are created in God's image.

But there are weeds too.

Pride.

Resentment.

Fear.

Impatience.

Anger.

Jealousy.

Old wounds.

Unforgiveness.

Perhaps some of us came to Mass today discouraged because we continue struggling with the same weaknesses.

We may wonder:

"Lord, why haven't You taken this away?"

Perhaps because God is less interested in quick fixes and more interested in transformation.

God is patient.

He works slowly.

He shapes saints over years, sometimes decades.

And that patience of God is especially important for many men to hear today.

Men, fathers, grandfathers, husbands—many of you carry burdens silently.

You may look back over your life and think:

"I should have been a better husband."

"I wish I had spent more time with my children."

"I've made too many mistakes."

Today's Gospel offers hope.

God has not given up on you.

As long as you are breathing, God is still cultivating your heart.

The enemy whispers:

"You're finished."

Jesus says:

"I'm not finished with you yet."

And many women carry a different, but equally heavy burden.

Mothers, grandmothers, wives, daughters—you often carry families in prayer.

Many of you pray every day for children who no longer practice the faith, for struggling marriages, or for loved ones who seem far from God.

Do not lose heart.

Remember St. Monica.

For seventeen years she prayed and wept for Augustine.

God heard every prayer.

Keep praying.

Keep loving.

Keep trusting.

God is still working beneath the surface.

And that brings us beautifully to the next two parables Jesus gives us.

Because after speaking about patience, Jesus now speaks about growth.

Jesus tells us that the Kingdom of Heaven is like a mustard seed—the smallest of seeds that eventually becomes a great tree.

He says it is also like yeast, hidden in flour, quietly transforming everything from within.

In other words, God's work is often hidden.

Most spiritual growth happens quietly.

A daily Rosary.

A visit to the Blessed Sacrament.

A sincere confession.

A father blessing his children before bed.

A grandmother teaching her grandchildren to pray.

A simple act of kindness.

Small acts of faith, repeated over time, change lives.

The saints changed the world not through spectacular moments, but through daily fidelity.

So where does all of this leave us?

It leaves us with a choice.

Will we trust the Divine Farmer?

Will we trust that God is still at work—even in situations that seem hopeless?

My brothers and sisters, today's Gospel teaches us three important truths:

First, evil is real, but God remains in control.

Second, God is patient with us and asks us to be patient with others.

And third, even the smallest act of faith can bear extraordinary fruit.

This week, instead of focusing on the weeds in others, let us invite Jesus to tend the soil of our own hearts.

And let us remember:

The Divine Farmer never abandons His field.

He is still working.

He is still planting.

He is still healing.

And He is certainly not finished with any of us yet.

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