Picture this: A neglected backyard garden. Weeds choke the flowerbeds, tomato plants sag under their own neglect, and the once-vibrant roses are now a tangle of thorns. We’ve all been that gardener—distracted, busy, or just plain forgetful. But then, one day, we step outside, clippers in hand, and think: “What if I tried to revive this?” The prophet Hosea paints a similar scene for Israel.
Their spiritual garden is overgrown with idolatry and pride, yet God whispers, “Return to me. Let me heal you. I will be like the dew, and you will bloom like the lily” (Hosea 14:2-5). Lent is that moment we pick up the clippers and say, “Let’s try again.”
Hosea’s words aren’t a guilt trip—they’re a love letter. God isn’t scolding Israel for dead plants; He’s offering to till the soil of their hearts. “Take words with you and return to the Lord,” Hosea urges (14:2). It’s as if God says, “Bring me your wilted prayers, your half-hearted hopes. I’ll work with that.” This is repentance as relationship repair, not a divine transaction. Like a gardener who knows every plant’s potential, God sees what we could be, even when we’re buried under weeds.
Then there’s the man in Mark’s Gospel who asks Jesus, “Which commandment is the most important” (Mark 12:28)? Jesus’ answer—“Love God, love neighbor”—is less a rule and more a recipe for life. But here’s the twist: You can’t truly love your neighbor if you’re spiritually parched. Hosea’s call to return to God isn’t just about personal renewal; it’s about refilling your well so you have something to pour into others.
Hosea’s imagery of dew and blossoming lilies (14:5-7) is God’s promise of gentle, persistent grace. Dew doesn’t roar like a storm; it quietly nourishes. I once met a man who, after years of bitterness toward his estranged brother, sent a simple text: “Coffee sometime?” There is no grand apology, just an open door. That’s dew-like love—small, steady, life-giving.
Jesus’ command to love God “with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength” (Mark 12:30) is an invitation to holistic growth. Notice He doesn’t say, “with all your perfection.” God isn’t asking for flawless obedience; He’s asking for roots. Like the lilies Hosea describes, our lives are meant to sink deep into God’s love so we can stretch outward, offering shade and beauty to others.
This Lent, consider two questions:
- What weeds are choking your spiritual garden? Resentment? Distraction? Fear?
- Who needs your “dew” today? A lonely neighbor? A struggling coworker?
Hosea ends with a line we often overlook: “The ways of the Lord are right” (14:9). Not easy. Not predictable. But right. Loving God and neighbor won’t always feel natural—especially when the neighbor is the one who lets their dog dig up your petunias. But Lent reminds us: Every act of love, no matter how small, is a seed planted in faith. So grab your clippers, friends. The Gardener is waiting, the soil is ready, and even the most neglected plot can bloom.
- Father Boby's inspirational homily was recorded live during Mass at the Father Peyton Center this morning. You can view the Mass (and the Rosary at the 30-minute mark) on the Family Rosary YouTube page.
- To join the Rosary and Mass Livestream, visit the Family Rosary YouTube or Facebook page at 11:30 a.m. Eastern, Monday – Friday. Consider inviting others to join too! (*If you are not a member of Facebook and a signup window appears, simply select the X at the top of the pop-up message and continue to the livestream.)
