20th Sunday after Pentecost: "The Good Soil".

Commemoration of the Holy Fathers of the Seventh Ecumenical Council (787).

A reading from the Holy Gospel according to the Apostle and Evangelist Saint Luke (Lk 8:5-15).

The Lord spoke this parable:

“The sower went out to sow his seed. As he sowed, some fell along the path and was trampled, and the birds of the sky devoured it. Some fell on the rock, and as soon as it sprouted, it withered for lack of moisture. Some fell among thorns, and the thorns, growing together with it, choked it. Finally, some fell on good soil, grew, and produced a hundredfold.”

Having said this, He exclaimed: “He who has ears to hear, let him hear!”

His disciples asked Him what this parable meant. He answered:

“To you it has been given to know the mysteries of the Kingdom of God, but to others, only in parables, so that seeing they may not see, and hearing they may not understand.

The meaning of the parable is this: the seed is the Word of God. Those along the path are those who have heard it, but then the devil comes and takes the Word from their hearts, so that they may not believe and be saved. Those on the rock are those who, when they hear it, receive the Word with joy, but have no root: they believe for a time, and in the moment of trial they fall away.

The seed that fell among the thorns represents those who have heard, but as they go on, they are choked by the anxieties, riches, and pleasures of life, and bear no mature fruit.

But the seed on the good soil represents those who, having heard the Word with a noble and good heart, keep it and produce fruit with perseverance.”

Homily.

Brothers and sisters in Christ, peace to you and grace from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, from God the Father Almighty, and from the Holy Spirit.

Today, on the 20th Sunday after Pentecost, the Church gathers us as a community of sons and daughters of God to meditate on the deepest mystery of our spiritual life: the Word of God sown in our hearts. This Word, which is the eternal Logos of the Father, is not given to us by chance, nor as a mere notion to be known, but as a living seed destined to grow, to transform our existence, and to bear fruit according to the divine will.

Today's liturgy invites us to reflect on the gift of perseverance in faith: a virtue that does not arise spontaneously, but is cultivated day by day, facing the difficulties, temptations, and trials of the Christian journey. It is a perseverance measured not by the quantity of external actions, but by inner fidelity to Christ, by the ability to preserve the Word received and let it sprout in our lives, even when the soil of our heart seems dry or choked by the thorns of worldly concerns.

Today we also remember the teaching of the Holy Fathers, who bore witness to the incarnate truth of the Word. They courageously and wisely defended the faith against heresies, preserving the light of the Incarnation in the history of the Church. On this Sunday, we are called to contemplate the indissoluble link between the Word of God, the Apostolic Tradition, and the holiness of life, recognizing that every spiritual fruit arises from listening, meditating, and being faithful to the truth.

Brothers and sisters, having listened to the Word of the Lord, let us open our hearts with humility and gratitude, allowing it to descend within us like fruitful rain upon thirsty soil. The Word has already been sown in the field of our soul: now it is up to us to guard it, protect it, and make it bear fruit through faith and works. Only in this way can the seed of Christ, planted in the furrows of our life, grow, blossom, and bear abundant fruit for the Church and for the entire world.

But before asking ourselves what fruit we bear, we must contemplate Who is the One who sows and what He sows. For to understand the mystery of the Word means first to recognize the hand that scatters it and the love that moves it. This is where today’s Gospel leads us: from the heart of God, the source of every word of life, to our own hearts, called to receive it and bring it to life.

“The sower went out to sow his seed” (Lk 8:5). With these words, the Lord introduces us to the most luminous parable of His mercy, a parable that reveals the very heart of God and the depth of His love for humanity. The seed He scatters is not just any word, nor an abstract idea or moral discourse: it is the living Word, the eternal Logos made flesh, Christ Himself, who brings life, light, and grace.

God does not watch humanity’s path from afar; He draws near, goes out to meet us, walks through the barren fields of our existence, and tirelessly sows His Word, without reserve and without preference. There is no ground He disdains, no heart too hard for His hand to reach.

Yet this mystery of God’s sowing is not merely an act of gratuitous love: it is also a call to our freedom. As Saint John Chrysostom reminds us: “The same seed is sown for all, but not all bear fruit, and this is not the fault of the sower, but of the soil that receives it” (Homily 44 on the Gospel of Matthew, PG 57, 463). The grace is the same, but the response differs.

Thus, we understand that the parable of the sower is not only the story of a giving God, but also the story of a human being who must choose to receive. It is the story of an encounter: between heaven that bends down and the earth that decides whether to open or remain closed.

Saint John Chrysostom reminds us: “Christ compels no one, but invites all; He sows everywhere, because His mercy is universal. Even where the soil is hard, He still hopes it may become fruitful” (Homilies on Matthew, 44:3; PG 57, 465).

These words reveal to us the face of a patient and merciful God, who never tires of offering salvation. The fruitfulness of the Word does not depend on human merit, but on the goodness of the Lord, who desires that every heart open to His love. Even in the driest soil—in lives wounded by sin, pain, or despair—He continues to cast His light, patiently awaiting the moment when it can sprout and bear fruit.

The parable invites us, then, to reflect on our openness to grace. We cannot determine when the Word will blossom, nor control the fruit it will produce: our task is to be receptive, humble, and free soil. Just as a field must be plowed, fertilized, and watered, so the human heart is prepared through prayer, penance, listening, and perseverance.

The Lord sows in everyone, but the fruits depend on our response. He makes no distinction: He spreads His Word in the hearts of the simple and the wise, the rich and the poor, the righteous and the sinners. No one is excluded from His mercy. Yet if the heart does not allow itself to be purified, the Word risks being choked by the thorns of pride, distraction, and worldly concerns. This is why we are called to watch and discern, nurturing every day the gift we have received with grace, contemplation, and virtuous living.

In this light, the parable is not only a lesson about the human heart, but also a proclamation of divine hope: God never gives up; He continues to sow, continues to call, continues to offer life. Our responsibility is simple, yet essential: to open our hearts, remove obstacles, and allow ourselves to be transformed by His grace, so that the seed may become abundant fruit, bringing eternal life to ourselves and to those around us.

The Gospel shows us that the seed is never lacking, but the soil sometimes is. The Word of God is always good, powerful, and living, yet it can fall on a hardened, distracted, or suffocated heart, just as Saint Gregory of Nyssa writes: “The human heart is like a field that receives different seeds: if it is not plowed by penance and watered by grace, it remains barren” (On Christian Perfection, PG 46, 283).

Our heart, then, is the soil on which the Word may either sprout or remain parched. This is why listening to the Word requires attention, openness, and daily care. It is not enough merely to hear the Gospel; we must meditate upon it, let it penetrate our lives and choices, so that it may bear fruit. In this regard, Saint Maximus the Confessor reminds us: “He who listens to the Word and meditates on it in the silence of the heart unites faith and works within himself, and makes the Kingdom of God flourish in his soul” (Centuries on Charity, II, 36).

At this point, allow me to share a personal experience that concretely illustrates this truth. Some time ago, a dear friend of mine, distant from the Church of Rome, confided in me about his uncertainties and doubts regarding the faith. He was seeking the way, yet could not find the light to guide him. We spoke at length about the Orthodox faith, the beauty of icons, the depth of the Liturgy, the Church Fathers, and the Apostolic Tradition.

In those moments, I witnessed how the seed of the Word was slowly taking root in his heart. Every explanation, every testimony, every small clarification seemed to open fertile ground, yet I knew the Word would not sprout automatically. Without courage and a decision of faith, that seed risked falling among the thorns of doubt, fear, and hesitation, remaining choked.

This experience led me to a profound understanding of what Jesus teaches us in the parable: receiving the Word is not enough. It requires the courage to welcome it, the perseverance to nurture it, and the freedom to allow it to transform our lives. Just as good soil produces abundant fruit, so an open and courageous heart can make the grace of God sprout, bearing fruit abundantly—not only for oneself, but for the entire community of the faithful.

In this light, the parable of the Sower also becomes an invitation to look upon others with eyes of hope. Every person we meet can be a field where God is sowing. Often, we do not immediately see the fruit, but patience and constancy in witnessing the faith can transform even the driest hearts.

Dear brothers, the Letter to the Galatians offers us a luminous and powerful example of how the Word of God can transform a human heart: the conversion of Saint Paul. He declares with conviction: “The Gospel I preached is not according to man… but by revelation of Jesus Christ” (Gal 1:11–12).

These words show us that Paul’s faith did not arise from human teaching, study, or passively received tradition, but from a direct encounter with the risen Christ, an event that radically changed his life and vocation. Saint John Chrysostom observes: “Christ Himself became Paul’s teacher, so that the ardor of his faith would be not human, but divine” (Homilies on the Letter to the Galatians, I,1; PG 61, 610).

In this encounter, the seed of the Word falls on a ready and fertile ground: Paul, who until that moment had been a persecutor of the Church, opens himself to the light of grace and experiences a radical transformation. From being hostile and violent toward Christians, he becomes the most fervent witness of the Gospel, an apostle who will carry the Word of God throughout the Mediterranean world.

This experience reveals two profound truths. The first is that the Word sown by God has a power that surpasses all human limits: it is not measured by strength, culture, or merit, but by the openness of the heart. Even the most closed heart can be transformed if divine grace is received with humility and courage. The second truth is that authentic conversion produces concrete fruits: the faith received must become life, action, witness, and service. Paul thus becomes good soil that yields abundant fruit, changing not only his own life but the very history of the Church.

Like Paul, every person called by God needs the seed of the Word to find good soil, but also needs a heart that responds with trust and perseverance. The difference between the seed that falls among thorns and the seed that fully sprouts lies in the freedom and receptivity of grace: when the heart opens, when a person allows themselves to be transformed, then the Word becomes strength, light, and life, producing fruits that no human effort alone could ever generate.

Thus, looking at the story of Paul and the journey of my friend, we understand that God always sows abundantly, but each of us must work the soil of our own hearts, watch over the thorns that can choke the Word, and respond with courage to the divine invitation. It is a lesson of both hope and responsibility: God never tires of sowing, and we are called to let grace take root in our lives and in the lives of those we encounter.

Today, brothers and sisters, the Church also invites us to remember the Holy Fathers of the Seventh Ecumenical Council, convened at Nicaea in 787 AD under Empress Irene and Patriarch Tarasius of Constantinople. These men and women of God, guided by the Holy Spirit, rose to defend the truth of the Incarnation, firmly opposing the iconoclastic heresy that threatened to obscure faith in the Word made flesh.

The iconoclasts claimed that the use of sacred images was a form of idolatry and that representing God was inappropriate for the human mind. The Fathers of the Council, however, drawing on the Apostolic Tradition and the revelation of the Gospel, courageously affirmed that the icon is never an end in itself, but a witness to the highest reality: the incarnate Word. They taught that to contemplate an icon is to contemplate the flesh of the Savior, His visible humanity, through which we may approach the divine mystery.

Saint John of Damascus, a master of the Orthodox faith and tireless defender of sacred images, wrote: “In former times, God, who is without body and without form, could in no way be represented. But now, since God has appeared in the flesh and lived among men, I represent what is visible of God” (Against Those Who Decry Holy Images, I,16; PG 94,1245).

These words remind us that the icon is a revelation: what appears to the eye becomes a gateway to heaven, a tangible sign of God’s invisible presence. The truth of the Council, solemnly reaffirmed, states: “The honor paid to the image passes to its prototype, and he who venerates the icon venerates the person depicted in it” (Acts of the Seventh Ecumenical Council, Session VII, 787 AD).

This teaching is not only doctrine but a spiritual experience: just as the seed sown in hearts produces fruit, so the contemplation of icons, together with listening to the Word of God, transforms those who receive them. The icon becomes an invitation to prayer, reflection, and communion with Christ. He who looks with faith does not see merely an image, but contemplates the mystery of the Incarnation and is elevated toward the divine.

Beloved brothers, the Lord concludes the parable of the Sower by saying: “The seed that fell on good soil stands for those who, having heard the Word with a noble and good heart, keep it and bear fruit with perseverance” (Lk 8:15).

Perseverance is the true measure of our faith. It is not enough to receive the Word or to contemplate the icon: we must guard, nourish, protect, and cultivate the seed that God has placed in our hearts. Perseverance transforms initial grace into a stable virtue, a fruit that does not wither, capable of bringing life and light to others.

The Fathers of the Seventh Ecumenical Council show us this perseverance in action. Many of them endured persecution, exile, misunderstanding, and threats of death, yet they never yielded. Their fidelity to the incarnate truth, to the Word, and to the icon testifies that even in the most difficult times, the seed of grace, if preserved with courage, beauty, and holiness, produces abundant fruit.

Every open heart, every faith witnessed, every life transformed becomes fertile soil for God’s grace. Like the sower who never grows weary, God continues to pour His seed into every heart, awaiting the moment when perseverance and trust will allow the seed to sprout. The fruit of the Word, of prayer, of contemplation of the icons, and of fidelity to Tradition is what builds the Church, illuminates the lives of the faithful, and lets the divine light shine in the world.

Brothers and sisters, the Word and the icons are two inseparable gifts of the Church, through which God continues to speak to our hearts and guide our spiritual journey.

The Word enlightens the mind: it reveals truth, guides discernment, and calls us to justice, charity, and faithfulness.

The icons, on the other hand, illuminate the heart: they make the invisible visible, transform contemplation into prayer, and open the soul to grace, allowing us to perceive the living presence of Christ among us.

Both gifts lead us to the face of the Lord, “the image of the invisible God” (Col 1:15), drawing us more deeply into the mystery of His incarnation.

Like the Fathers of Nicaea, and like the seed that falls on hearts ready to receive grace, we too are called to guard the faith not with force, but with beauty; not with power, but with holiness.

The beauty of the liturgy, the light of the icons, and the power of the Gospel shape the heart and mind, transform doubt into trust, hesitation into courage, and the thorns of fear and indifference into fertile soil, ready to produce fruits of virtue and love.

When we pause before an icon, the time of prayer becomes a personal encounter with Christ: there we can lay down our anxieties, our labors, our doubts, allowing the light of grace to penetrate the deepest recesses of the heart.

In the same way, listening to the Word is not merely an act of hearing, but an inner opening, a reception of the seed that God desires to nurture and grow within us.

It is the union of these two gifts—the Word that instructs and the icon that transfigures—that leads us to imitate the saints and to transform our lives according to the model of Christ.

Saint John of Damascus teaches: “By contemplating the icons, we are lifted from matter to Spirit, and the memory of the saints urges us to imitate their virtues” (Against Those Who Decry Holy Images, III, 33; PG 94, 1345).

In these words lies a profound truth: the icon is not mere sacred art, but a path of spiritual elevation. It reminds us that the Christian life does not arise solely from knowledge or external actions, but from inner transformation, from the imitation of the virtues of those who have lived the Word in both flesh and heart.

By contemplating the saints, we recognize their embodied virtues and are moved to follow their example: to live with courage, faithfulness, patience, and love, even in the midst of trials.

Thus, the Word and the icon become a single path of communion: the Word enlightens and guides, the icon consoles and lifts up.

In every act of listening, in every gesture of veneration, in every sincere contemplation, the Lord continues to sow eternal life within us, so that grace may grow, blossom, and bear fruit in time and in eternity.

May the Lord sow in your hearts His Word of life, make it sprout in the Spirit, and bear fruit of faith, hope, and love. Through the prayers of the holy Mother of God and all the saints, may Christ our God have mercy on us and save us.

Amen.

Archpriest Michele Alberto Del Duca