The readings this week show that what is small, hard to see, and even invisible can have vast importance. Whether it’s the tender shoot of the cedar tree or the tiny seed of the mustard plant, what seems slight now will become something mighty.

There may be two main ways to get religion wrong. One is to presume it has nothing to do with the material world. So forget political and social realities, pray harder, and concentrate on the spiritual life because it’s the only forum that counts.

At the start of the pandemic lockdown, I noticed a pair of cardinals were building a nest in the wreath on my front porch. They’d already put so much work into it that I didn’t have the heart to take it down even though I knew the wreath would be ruined once they were done.

I distinctly recall the day when my faith took firm root. I was 7 years old and my sisters and I had just been summoned by my dad to join him around the kitchen table while my mom fixed him dinner.

We pray to our kind and gracious God who offers us mercy.

I fed the poor and they called me a saint. I asked why they were poor and they called me a communist.