A sermon on Matthew 13:24-43

By Fr. Mike Paraniuk
HCP columnist

This story moved me to share it with you.

A few years ago, I moved to a new town after my beloved wife passed. I was grieving. The new house was beautiful, but I felt emotionally drained and spiritually empty. One weekend, I wandered into a neighbor’s yard and saw a tall weed in her rose garden. Without thinking, I pulled it out. At first, I thought it was a small act, but it became a ritual. I’d pull weeds in my own yard, sometimes for hours, crouched in the dirt, hands in the soil.

Over time, I realized the weeds weren’t just plants. They revealed something about my life. Each one pulled was a small act of control in my world that felt overwhelming. Some days I’d think, "There are so many weeds. How can I cope with this?" Then other days I felt hope that I'm winning the battle.

One day, a friend from the garden club called me. She’d been ill for months but promised to check in on me every morning. She listened to my feelings, offered encouragement, and slowly, I began to feel less alone. She even invited me over for tea. When I pulled into her driveway, I saw the rose garden I’d once pulled a weed from. It was thriving. 

That moment offered me a new way of thinking. I stopped seeing weeds as obstacles and started seeing them as invitations. I became more caring, more thankful for blessings given to me and a desire to give to others. I began planting flowers over the spots where weeds had been, and I started helping others pull weeds from their own gardens.

Sometimes the deepest healing comes not from grand gestures, but from small, consistent acts of care — whether it’s tending a garden, tending to a friend, or tending to yourself. Pulling weeds isn’t about making everything perfect; it’s about showing up, one small step at a time, and letting God do the rest. 

Our greatest disappointments in life can produce the greatest grace. There was a farmer who grew a beautiful field of golden wheat. He went on a journey, but when he came back, he discovered someone stole all the wheat from his field. All the money he spent on fertilizer and nutrients, planting the highest quality of seeds, providing enough water, and working many hours to maker the soil fertile all went to naught. Eventually, the soil became non-fertile. He didn't have the funds to grow more wheat. The ground became barren from lack of vegetation.

Then this happened. Weeds began to grow. They popped up everywhere. All types of weeds. They covered the whole field. Many weeds are rich in nutrients and can be used to naturally enrich the soil. Eventually, weeds made the barren ground fertile again. Wheat would grow there once more. 

Things in life can steal the wheat of your happiness like a sudden, unexpected illness. The soil of your soul that grew wheat now is run over with unwanted weeds of anxiety and fear. Yet weeds have a purpose too. They can fertilize your spirit with nutrients like faith in God, trust in Him and dependency on God who will always care for you when you're afraid. Feel the comforting words of Psalm 23:4, "Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me."

Believe that God's care for you provides comfort in your most fearful situations. 

When the Apostles were afraid of drowning in the storm, Jesus walked to them on the water. "He called out to them, 'Don’t be afraid. I am here!'” Never doubt it. Never. Blessings...Fr. Mike.

Fr. Mike Paraniuk is a Priest Chaplain at Cincinnati Children's Hospital. His sermons can be heard live over WLRU Radio 106.9 FM on Wednesdays at 7 p.m.