LILIES OF THE FIELD

 A SERMON FOR THE 14TH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

“Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin: And yet I say unto you, That even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.”

When our blessed Lord tells us to do something, it’s a good idea to obey.  In today’s Gospel he instructs us “to consider the lilies of the field,” and so let’s turn our thoughts in the direction of these simple flowers for a moment, and see what we can learn from them.  It’s a very easy lesson.  Our Lord begins by describing them as basically useless: “they toil not, neither do they spin.”  And yet, he goes on, they are of great beauty, more glorious in their simplicity than all the rich garments worn by the king himself.  Not even Solomon in all his glory was arrayed like one of these simple little lilies of the field.

From this comparison that our Lord makes, it is evident that we are meant to measure the worth of individuals, not according to their usefulness to society, but rather by something else more rudimentary. Our value to society can be a very tenuous one.  We should beware the very dangerous path on which such thinking sends us.  Let’s never forget how the Nazis upheld this false ideal and very early on started the systematic killing of the mentally ill, the elderly and the infirm.  And it didn’t end with them.  Their policy of eugenics is raising its ugly head again today, when countries like Iceland boast that they have eradicated Down Syndrome from their society by the simple method of having aborted every child who is detected as having it.  Or the increasing number of countries, and even American states, where euthanasia is becoming an accepted option for those who cannot afford or are not simply not prepared to bear the cross they have been given. 

Every individual is a child of God, a lily of the field in his own right, and as such, is a part of God’s glorious creation, whether they toil and spin, or not.  Each and every human being is of immeasurable value, because he is beloved of God, so beloved that God sent his only-begotten Son to die for him.  All human beings, rich and poor, and yes, even good and evil, are born at least as children of God, glorious in their innocence and simplicity, and destined for eternal life.

That eternal life, however, is left to us to choose whether we want it or not, whether we’re going to use our free will to do whatever’s necessary to achieve it.  We are all born as beautiful lilies of the field, but alas, as we get older and develop the use of reason, we so often waste our time trying to acquire more beauty—artificial beauty—to make ourselves more attractive, more popular.  But “which of you by taking thought can add one cubit unto his stature?”  Such attempts are nothing but vanity, and these imagined improvements we make to our outward appearance, or the graceful and witty airs we put on to impress other people—all these are nothing more than a pretence, vain attempts to improve on God’s creation, to make ourselves that which we are not, and for the sole purpose of boosting our own ego. 

Like the grass, which, as our Lord says, “today is, and to morrow is cast into the oven,” all these vain attempts to make ourselves appear better than we are shall ultimately fail as we grow old, infirm, wrinkled and cranky.  Ultimately, as we lie on our deathbed and look back on all our wasted energy, will the realization of our own vanity hit us too late to be of any use?  Let’s hope not.  Let’s pray not.

Meanwhile, let’s resolve to abandon such attempts to pretend to be better than we are.  Instead, let’s take advantage of the help God gives us through his grace, to make ourselves truly better than we are!  Let’s improve our behavior, make better moral choices, lead a more holy life, increase our love for God and our neighbor.  Let’s concentrate on improving our soul, and abandon our silly, vain and worthless pampering of our physical appearance, our obsession with our own popularity, and our never-ending quest to acquire more and more money and material possessions.  Let’s do all we can to be that lily of the field.

As our blessed Lord tells us, it’s all about making this fundamental choice.  “No man can serve two masters… ye cannot serve God and mammon.”  So we pause in our life today, we take a deep breath, and we assess where we are with this, the most important decision we can ever make.  Am I going to spend my life serving God, or do I waste it away on mammon, the vain, frivolous things of this world, and the artificial illusion of satisfaction they provide?  Most people never stop to think about this choice.  They just go their merry way, and are lost on the road to perdition.  How so?  Because by simply following their own instinct, they will naturally do the things they want to do.  And that’s going to lead them to a place where, as our Lord says, they will come to hate the one master, which is God, and love the other, which is mammon.  We priests often watch this happen, powerless to do anything except counsel the sinner and pray for his conversion from the path he is on.  So often though, our efforts meet with nothing but the slow but steady aversion to God and the things of God that accompanies the sinner’s downfall—their gradual rejection of the sacraments, the more and more infrequent attendance at Mass, until one day we realize that we’ve lost them altogether. 

Please don’t even set foot on this path.  If you think you’re slipping, stop now before it’s too late.  Make the firm and conscious choice to seek first the kingdom of God and, as St. Paul says, walk in the Spirit.  “They that are Christ’s,” he says, “have crucified the flesh with the affections and lusts.”  To crucify the flesh takes effort, energy, hard work and sacrifice.  It won’t just happen.  You have to cooperate with God’s graces and make it happen through an act of the will.  Our choice is placed before us today.  Think about it, please.  Choose God, not mammon!  Because you can’t serve them both.