Have you noticed how a seed becomes a tree? A seed does not become a tree by staying comfortable. It has to split open. In fact, from the outside, it looks like destruction. The shell cracks, the original form is lost as the old structure breaks down. But that breaking is not death; it is the beginning of growth. And that is exactly what we see in today’s first reading from the Acts of the Apostles.
After the resurrection of Jesus Christ, and the coming of the Holy Spirit on the disciples, the early Church is growing fast. People are coming to Christ. Lives are changing. The mission is working. But then, right in the middle of that success, a crisis breaks out. The Greek-speaking widows are being overlooked in the daily distributions of material resources. Some are being neglected. Complaints are rising. Tension builds. Division begins to threaten the Body of Christ.
Notice that this is not a crisis from outside persecution. This is internal. It is messy. It is uncomfortable. It is scandalous. It is the kind of problem that could easily split a community. The apostles are not ignoring it, but they are also not panicking. They face it honestly. They name the issue. And then they make a decision that will shape the Church forever: they appoint seven men, filled with the Spirit and wisdom, to serve the community. This is the birth of the diaconate; the ministry of deacons. And as a result, “The word of God continued to spread, and the number of disciples greatly increased.”
In this story, we see that growth did not stop because of the crisis; instead, growth accelerated because of how the crisis was handled. Not every difficulty is evil. Some difficulties are invitations from God, to grow, to mature; to become something we could not become without the difficulties.
Apart from the example of the seed that becomes a tree through difficulties. There are several other examples. A muscle does not grow without resistance. You do not get stronger by lifting nothing. It is the strain; the stress, that leads to strength. Also, think of an eagle. When it is time for the eaglet to learn to fly, the mother does not make the nest more comfortable. She actually makes it less comfortable, removing the soft lining so the young bird feels the discomfort and is pushed to the edge. Eventually, it has to leap. That moment feels like crisis. But it is the only way it learns to fly. In this case, growth is not the absence of discomfort; it is the fruit of discomfort. The early Church in Acts of the Apostles understood this relationship between discomfort and growth. The early Christians did not waste the crisis. They let it transform them.
How does this message concern us today? Every one of us faces moments like this: moments where something cracks. A relationship strains. A plan falls apart. A misunderstanding arises. A health challenge. Someone else takes credit for your hard work. A responsibility stretches us beyond what feels comfortable. And our instinct is to resist it. To label it as purely negative. To say, “This should not be happening.” But what if, sometimes, God is at work in that very moment? What if the question is not just, “Why is this happening?” but “What can this become?”
The apostles could have tried to control everything themselves. After all, they were the leaders. They were the ones chosen by Christ. But they realized something important: growth required change. It required sharing responsibility. It required trusting others. And more importantly, it required trusting God. So they created space for a new ministry. That is what real growth looks like; it stretches structure. It demands adaptation. It calls forth new gifts.
Today, we live in a world that avoids discomfort at all costs. We want instant solutions, easy paths, quick fixes. We want growth without stretching, success without struggle; faith without sacrifice. But that is not how life works. And it is not how faith grows. Faith grows when we trust God through difficulty, not just when everything is going well.
Jesus himself says in today’s Gospel passage, “Do not let your hearts be troubled.” He does not say there will be no trouble. He says, “Do not let your hearts be troubled.” Why? Because, “You have faith in God; have faith also in me.” In other words: trust me in the middle of your troubles. Growth begins at the edge of your comfort zone. The early Church stepped out of its comfort zone, and discovered a deeper and richer way of being the Church. The apostles focused more clearly on prayer and the Word. The deacons rose up to serve the community with care and justice. And the whole body became stronger. That is what happens when we respond to crisis with faith instead of fear.
So let me ask you: Where is something stretching you, unsettling you, or frustrating you at this moment? Could it be that God is expanding your capacity? Could God be calling forth gifts in you that would remain hidden if everything stayed easy? Remember, comfort can maintain you, but it will never transform you. Only growth transforms you. And growth almost always begins with some kind of disruption. The seed has to break. The muscle has to strain. The eagle has to leap. And the Church had to face internal crisis to become what it was meant to be.
My dearly beloved in Christ, do not be afraid of the moment when things feel uncertain. Do not run from every challenge as if it were an enemy. Some of the greatest works of God in your life will come disguised as inconvenience, tension, or unexpected change. The next time life cracks your shell, do not assume you are falling apart. You might just be growing. For whatever God permits is either for a blessing or a lesson.
Homily for 5th Sunday of Easter Year A 2026
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