Homily – Small Beginnings, Dangerous Drift

Small Beginnings, Dangerous Drift

Today’s readings place side by side two very different movements.

One shows us how quietly God’s kingdom grows.

The other shows us how quietly sin takes hold.

In the first reading from 2 Samuel, David’s fall begins not with rebellion,
but with neglect.

“In the spring of the year, the time when kings go out to battle,
David remained at Jerusalem.”

That single sentence tells us everything.

David stays behind when he should be leading.

The battle is elsewhere, but the danger is here.

From the roof, he sees Bathsheba.

One look leads to another.
Desire becomes action.
Action becomes deception.
Deception becomes violence.

Nothing happens all at once.

Each step seems manageable.
Each decision feels small.
But together, they lead to tragedy.

David sends messengers.
David arranges circumstances.
David gives orders.

And Uriah dies.

The man after God’s own heart has not suddenly become evil.

He has become careless.

Sin often grows this way —
not in storms,
but in silence.

This dark movement helps us understand the Gospel from Mark more deeply.

Jesus speaks of the kingdom of God
as something hidden,
patient,
and mysterious.

“The kingdom of God is as if a man should scatter seed on the ground.”

The farmer sleeps.
He rises.
The seed grows. “How, he does not know.”

God’s work is quiet.
Unforced.
Faithful.

Then Jesus speaks of the mustard seed.

The smallest of seeds becomes the largest of shrubs.

What begins unseen becomes shelter for many.

The kingdom does not advance through control or anxiety.

It grows through trust and cooperation.

Placed together, these readings teach us something essential:

Small choices matter.

David’s failure does not begin with adultery or murder.

It begins with staying behind. With disengagement.
With neglect of responsibility.

In contrast, the kingdom of God grows through faithfulness
in small, hidden ways.

Prayer offered daily.
Integrity chosen quietly.
Obedience lived consistently.

The danger is not only dramatic sin.

The danger is drifting.

When vigilance fades,
when prayer becomes optional,
when responsibility is avoided —
the heart becomes vulnerable.

Jesus’ parables remind us that God works patiently.

But patience is not passivity.

The farmer scatters seed.
The seed must be sown.

Growth is God’s work.
Faithfulness is ours.

David stopped tending what had been entrusted to him.

The Gospel invites us
to remain attentive.

To sow good seed.
To trust God’s timing.
To guard our hearts.

This is not a call to fear.

It is a call to humility.

We are never beyond temptation.
We are never finished growing.

The mustard seed begins tiny.
So does compromise.

The difference lies
in what we nurture.

Do we make space
for the Word of God
to grow within us?

Or do we allow distraction,
comfort,
and neglect
to take root?

God’s kingdom grows
even when unseen.

But so do habits —
for good or ill.

Today’s readings ask us
to be attentive
to the ordinary moments.

Where are we choosing ease
instead of faithfulness?

Where are we staying behind
when God calls us forward?

And where is God inviting us
to trust that small acts of obedience
are enough?

May we ask today
for the grace of watchfulness —
to tend carefully
what God has entrusted to us.

May the seed of the kingdom
find good soil in our hearts.

And may we choose,
in small and faithful ways,
the path that leads to life.