Diocese of/de Pembroke

“A sower went out to sow.” (Matthew 13:3): So begins one of the most iconic parables in the Gospel. This sower does not limit himself to the most promising fields. He casts his seed generously, even recklessly, like one who believes to the core of his being that any soil—one day—may bear fruit. This is the image of God Himself: a Father who never stops believing in the human heart, who continues to sow His Word even in the hardest places, in the driest deserts, in the most unyielding hearts.

The mission to proclaim the Good News is not governed by outcomes. It is not bound to the apparent fertility of the field, nor does it wait for opportune seasons. It is anchored in a faith that dares to believe: God can bring life where all seems dead. In the wilderness, He made water spring forth. In the tomb, He called forth resurrection.

In the Gospel according to Luke, Jesus says: “The kingdom of God is not coming with things that can be observed […] For, in fact, the kingdom of God is among you.” (Luke 17:20–21)
This Kingdom is not an external system imposed by force or strategy. It is like an invisible seed buried in the secret folds of the human soul. Even when everything on the surface seems stagnant, the Kingdom is already at work—quietly, deeply.

While many may grow discouraged at the sight of a society drifting away from God, the Gospel calls us to perseverance. For the Kingdom is already here—in small gestures, in silent fidelity, in words of truth, in reconciled relationships. It is here, but it awaits a little more faith to unfold in fullness.

Jesus often said: “Your faith has saved you.” This humble, persistent faith is the key that opens the door of the Kingdom. It is not a human strategy, but a posture of the heart. It does not construct the Kingdom—it receives it, cooperates with it, allows it to blossom.

Yet, the growth of the Kingdom does not occur without struggle. Saint Paul is clear: “For our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness.” (Ephesians 6:12)
This is not a political or ideological war. It is a spiritual battle—quiet, often wearying, waged in daily fidelity to God’s Word. Every act of charity, every refusal of evil, every act of forgiveness is a victory in this battle.

In this fight, Christ is both our model and our strength. On the Cross, He appears defeated. Yet it is there—precisely there—that love triumphs. Love that forgives its executioners, love that does not repay violence with violence, love that goes to the end—this is the weapon of the Kingdom. It is not sentimental love. It is love that bleeds, that weeps, but that endures. Love, as Paul writes, “that surpasses knowledge” (Ephesians 3:19).

Jesus often speaks in agrarian images. “Unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.” (John 12:24) This is a profound mystery: true fruitfulness comes not from success, but from surrender. To sow the Word is to accept this divine paradox.

We never truly know which seed will bear fruit, nor when. Yet we continue to sow—not from routine, but from hope. For one conversion, one heart awakened, justifies every hour of labor and prayer. “Those who sow in tears shall reap with shouts of joy.” (Psalm 126:5)

Christian faith is not an escape from reality. It is immersed in human history—with its violence, disillusionments, and contradictions—but it sees a promise hidden within. Today’s world may resemble scorched earth, yet God has not abandoned it. And neither will we.

We believe that in every generation, some hearts remain fertile. Sometimes, all it takes is a word, a glance, a gesture for the seed to find its resting place. This is why the mission is never in vain. It is our humble participation in God’s patient work.

The Kingdom is not only a future reality. It is already among us—like treasure hidden in the field, like a pearl of great price discovered unexpectedly. But to see it requires the eyes of faith. And to reveal it requires open hands, willing hearts, and lives offered freely.

The victory has already been won in the risen Christ. Yet it longs for our faith to be fully manifest. The battle continues, and it is not won through power or deception, but through humble, enduring love.

Thus, every seed sown in faith, every word spoken with gentleness, every silence filled with prayer is a herald of the Kingdom. Even on barren soil. For somewhere—always—there is a patch of earth still waiting for the Word of Life.