Another man bought five pairs of oxen, he had a business, he had a calling, he had to do something with these oxen: either to cultivate the land, or to harness them to a wheelbarrow to carry some of his wealth. He also cannot respond to the call of his friend, he "has a job", he has a calling, he must do something on earth. When he does this on earth, well, then he can remember heaven, then he can remember God, he can remember a friend, someone's needs can be remembered, someone's joy can be remembered...

The third example speaks of joy. The third invitee replies to his friend (or God, call it what you will): "I have just married myself, I cannot come to your feast. How can I come to your joy when my heart is full of my own? There is no place for your joy in my heart. If I come to your joy, I must forget mine for a moment. No, I won't do that!" What I mean is that our hearts are filled with something, and there is no room in it to share someone else's joy or someone else's sorrow. It's scary to think! But this is what this parable tells us. It is very important for us to perceive this, because otherwise we will continue to live, putting down roots in the earth, thinking that we possess it when we are its slaves. ("Earth" here denotes everything that can materially enslave us: wealth in any form).

Or we have a high idea of our calling. We have something great to do; I am an artist, I am a writer, I am an intelligent person; Let us even say: I am a priest, I am a preacher, I am a theologian. I have no time to deal with God, because I am engaged in expounding to other people who He is, what He is, I speak about the mysteries of the Kingdom of God... It's creepy to think about this in relation to yourself, but also to others!

Now we may be able to understand what freedom this parable requires of us in relation to what we hear; This freedom does not mean renunciation, but independence. After all, for the most part, what we call love is the enslavement of another and at the same time the enslavement of oneself, it is such an attitude towards someone when we are attached to this person, like a donkey is tied to a wall; This is not love. Such affection is something quite different; This is slavery. We are called to the kind of love that denies itself, that is detached and fervent to the other, and that is able to see him or her rather than oneself in reflection.

You probably remember the passage from the Epistle to the Romans, where the Apostle Paul says: "Faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the word of God" (Romans 10:17). Faith, that is, at least rudimentary knowledge about God, at least some idea, comes to us thanks to the fact that someone has told us something. When this word reaches us not in the form of a mental concept, but somehow touches and ignites our heart, we feel at least for a moment a new life, delight. But it is impossible to live long on delight. You can live on rapture for a few moments or a few hours (so a lover can, as it were, live in the fog of his experience for some time); And then you have to return to everyday life. And rapture must die in us, as fire dies and leaves ashes behind it; Ecstasy must turn into a serious receptivity to what we have heard, and faithfulness not only to what we have heard, but also to how we ourselves have responded to what we have heard.

I remember the unpublished poems of one émigré poet:

He said to us: you will go through the wilderness – beware, do not go astray. Ignorance saved you; henceforth Only loyalty can save you...

Fidelity... If we are not faithful, then we are traitors not only to God, not only to what we have experienced, but traitors to ourselves. Because if we have managed to deeply experience what was revealed to us through the word or through sight – and forget it, then we will betray ourselves, we are no longer worthy of ourselves. And therefore loyalty is a terribly important character trait. Loyalty must be developed by determination, by cultivating stability in oneself. Only then can we take the word and plow the ground – if it is not deep, cleanse this land – if it is overgrown with thorns, burn these thorns on the ground itself, even if the earth itself is burned on the surface because of this. Then we can resolutely pursue the goal that has been revealed in our souls—not because God has said so, not because someone we respect has told us so, but because our hearts and minds have responded, and we ourselves have replied to what we have heard: "How true this is! How wonderful it is! As the Apostle Paul said, you can die for this, because it is so valuable, so wonderful, so precious...

I have already said that some people hear and the word does not reach them, they see and remain blind. The prophet Isaiah speaks about this, but a little more extensively. The prophet says in the word of God:

And he said, Go and say to this people, You will hear with your ears, and you will not understand, and you will see with your eyes, and you will not see. For the heart of this people is hardened, and with their ears they can hardly hear, and their eyes are closed, lest they see with their eyes, and hear with their ears, and understand with their hearts, and turn back, that I may heal them, Isaiah 6:1.

These words are addressed to all of us. Beware, man, beware, because if you are not yet able to understand everything because of your youth, because of your lack of maturity, then you must understand at least what is available to you. And if you don't understand anything, ask yourself: what is happening to me? why? simple words are spoken, words that any person can understand as words, but they do not reach me. I don't understand, it doesn't mean anything to me. Has my heart become so coarse that it is only capable of responding to such coarse, earthly things? Or did I close my eyes because I don't want to see?..

There is a terrible passage in the Gospel, in the story of the events of Holy Week. The soldiers took Christ, tied Him to a stake, covered His eyes, began to strike Him in the face and say: "Well, Prophet? Now prophesy who hit you..." (cf. Matthew 26:28). Do we not do this, not only to God, but also to many people? We close our eyes so as not to see, we hit the other person in the face and say: "Did I hit you? I love you, I am your friend." Let us ask ourselves the question: have we not closed our eyes through ill will? Did you plug your ears? Have we not become dumbed down by the fact that we are busy with everything except what is essential? (I am now talking not only about the Divine, but also about the human). Am I not closed to what is most profound and human in me: a sense of nobility, a sense of greatness, a sense of dignity, a sense of beauty, a sense of truth? Am I open to all this? Am I ready to hear a voice that calls me to truth, to honesty, to sacrifice, to nobility? Or do I turn my ears away, close my eyes?..

The parable of the sower is addressed to us harshly, and at the same time with such hope, because, as I said, we are not always the same. Today I am made of stone; tomorrow I am covered with thorns; today I have no depth; but if only I give God the opportunity to approach me every day, either by opening themselves directly to my inner intuition, or by reading the Gospel, or through a neighbor who addresses me — if I do this, suddenly one day I will find myself that good soil that will bear fruit thirty, sixty, a hundredfold, which will reward God for His love, for His cross.

After I have dwelt so long on the parable of the sower, I pass on to the next verses of the fourth chapter.