Memorial of Saint Thomas Aquinas, Priest and Doctor of the Church
What Kind of Soil Am I?
2 Samuel 7:4–17 / Mark 4:1–20
Yesterday was about belonging.
Today is about listening.
In the first reading, God speaks to David and makes this incredible promise:
“I will establish your house. I will make your name great.”
David wants to build something for God — a temple.
But God turns it around and says: No, I will build something for you.
And that’s already a lesson. We often think the spiritual life is about what we do for God. But most of the time, it’s about what God is trying to do in us.
Then Jesus gives us the parable of the sower.
Same seed.
Same word of God.
Same grace.
But four different results.
Not because God changes — but because hearts are different.
Some hearts are distracted.
Some are shallow.
Some are crowded with worries, stress, noise, money, expectations.
And some — quietly — are ready.
And this is the uncomfortable part of the parable:
The problem is not the seed.
The problem is not the sower.
The problem is the soil.
Which means the real question is not:
“Is God speaking to me?”
The real question is:
“What condition is my heart in when He does?”
Because we can belong to God’s family and still not be letting His word take root.
We can come to Mass.
We can hear Scripture.
We can pray.
And still live with hearts that are too busy, too guarded, too full, too distracted for God to really change anything.
Today the Church also remembers Saint Thomas Aquinas, one of the greatest minds in the history of the Church.
But what made Thomas a saint was not his intelligence. It was his openness.
He once said that everything he wrote came from hours spent in prayer before the Blessed Sacrament. And near the end of his life, after a profound encounter with God, he said, “All that I have written seems like straw compared to what has been revealed to me.”
In other words, even the greatest theologian in the Church understood this truth: God does not want to fill our heads first. He wants to shape our hearts.
Thomas had a brilliant mind — but even more importantly, he had good soil.
This parable is not meant to make us feel guilty.
It’s meant to make us honest.
What kind of soil am I right now?
Not five years ago.
Not when life was easier.
Not when I had more time.
Right now.
Because God is always planting.
The question is whether we’re letting anything grow.