7th Sunday After Pentecost

Jesus already interpreted his own parable of the sower. So, I guess he preached the sermon for me already. Guess my work is already done, no sermon needed, right? Just kidding :)

It seems to me that the different kinds of terrain that Jesus talks about that the seed falls on can represent, for us today, our heart at different times in our lives. Sometimes it is not at all receptive to the word of God. Sometimes we are closed off, for various reasons, sometimes very good reasons. Perhaps we have just been deeply wounded, maybe by the church itself, perhaps even by the priest. Right after the wounding, that heart is not ready to grow the seed of faith and new life. That heart needs to be protected. It needs time in safety to heal and recover. And safety, for good reason, in the mind of the person who was hurt, may mean being nowhere near the church for a good long while. It is not the heart’s fault that it is not open, nor is it the path’s or the rock’s fault that they are not good places for the seed to grow. They just aren’t. Life comes in seasons. We have different experiences, which affect our hearts in different ways. Perhaps we’ve been feeling a lack of meaning in our lives, or perhaps we go through some kind of personal tragedy or hardship, and we receive support from someone unexpected. That seems like a very different season of the heart, in which that person’s soil may in fact be the good soil, ready to receive news of God’s love and grace.

I want to share the story of the different soil in different seasons of one person’s heart today. This person is named Carlos, and he is a former gang member. I learned of his story from Father Greg Boyle, or “G-Dog” as the homies call him. Father Greg, whom I really look up to, is the Catholic priest and leader of the world’s largest gang intervention, rehabilitation, and re-entry organization, which is called Homeboy Industries. He served as a priest at Dolores Mission, a church in Los Angeles where he worked with gang members. Over time, the leadership team realized that the best way to stop a bullet is through honest work. Thus, they shifted their focus to offering job opportunities to former gang members, while also providing the resources, support, and affection needed to recover from gang life and substance abuse, enabling them to function in a workplace environment. Thus, Homeboy Industries was born, with initiatives such as Homeboy Silkscreen, Homeboy Cafe, Homegirl Cafe, and various other businesses, alongside social services and recovery support.

He shares the stories of many former gang members in three books, all of which I recommend. In his second book, “Barking to the Choir: The Power of Radical Kinship”—among many other stories about his homies—Boyle recounts the story of Carlos, one of those he calls his "dearly deported": folks who grew up in the United States, speak little to no Spanish, and suddenly find themselves in a country and place they neither remember nor know, with a language they don’t understand—simply due to arbitrary immigration laws. Carlos grew up in Los Angeles public housing, joined a gang, and got into serious trouble. During this season, perhaps we could say his heart was like a seed being planted on rocks or among thorns. He served time in prison and was subsequently deported. Although he had arrived in the United States from El Salvador in his mother's arms at the age of two, at twenty-five he was sent "back" to a country that was completely alien to him. And he was forced to leave his family behind, including his partner and their three-year-old daughter.

Carlos would frequently call G-Dog from El Salvador to ask for money. But one time, months passed without any news from him. Then, suddenly, he called G-Dog again, saying he had returned to Los Angeles and needed to see him. G-Dog went to pick him up in Pico Rivera. He was no longer the chubby kid G-Dog remembered; he was thin and gaunt, though not from drugs. As they ate, Carlos described his perilous odyssey: he had endured constant assaults by criminals or corrupt police and had nearly starved or frozen to death. He had to jump from moving trains and roll down embankments, sometimes sustaining serious injuries. He reached a rural area of ​​Mexico where a gang of thieves took not only his money but all his clothes as well. He crept into a Mexican village, covering his genitals with his hands, covered in tattoos and darting between the trees. When people began to notice him, he explained that he had been robbed. And, one by one, the villagers began giving him clothes. He stood there, stunned, in the middle of nowhere, clothed in the kindness of others. That experience opened his heart, making it good soil. At that moment, he promised God he would be kind and help others. And he did; that promise transformed all his interactions during his journey home. He took a young mother and her daughter under his wing, protecting them and teaching them how to travel on freight trains. One day, while riding atop a train, they saw a small church with a sign at the entrance. Incredibly, the sign read: "Carlos, I am with you." He knew it wasn't just a sign, but a sign: God was with him and approved of his commitment. God affirmed the seed of love in his heart, and was watching over Carlos. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he left that village.

G-Dog drove him home, deeply moved by his story. And, to comfort Carlos and ease his return, he suggested that, upon arrival, he jump out of G-Dog’s car while it was still moving. Carlos burst out laughing. "That will make me feel so at home."

Maybe Carlos didn’t actually end up rolling down the bank from G-dog’s car. But his experience in that village in Mexico where he was accepted, clothed, and taken care of, despite being naked and covered in tattoos, opened his heart to be good soil for God’s love. God planted that seed, and Carlos made a promise of service and kindness, which God affirmed. That wheat plant grew, and it was beautiful, and it did bear fruit. While the book doesn’t say, I can imagine he had a newfound commitment to sharing love with many newer homies at Homeboy, tilling the soil of love in their hearts.

 May God use us, like Carlos, to plant the seeds of love in others hearts. May we trust God to do the rest of the work, to till the soil of love in other’s hearts, to fertilize it, to water it, to provide the sunshine, to provide the air, that God’s love may spread through us all to the world, that your kin-dom come, your will be done, on earth as in heaven. Amen.