Every once in a while I am asked to speak to a group in one of the religious education programs in our parish. I usually respond to our pastor or director of religious education that if their goal is that people learn how to be a bad Catholic, I am the right teacher.

I say this because I am most reluctant to hold myself up as a good example of faithfulness to Jesus Christ. While I always intend to follow Jesus in my daily life, I fail to follow him more often than I succeed. I want to be kind, generous, hospitable and joyful. But more often I am envious, stingy and frightened.

We've all heard the saying that the road to hell is paved with good intentions. In today's second reading, Paul writes to the Roman church: "The Spirit comes to the aid of our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes with inexpressible groanings."

This is good news for those of us who know we do not pray as we should. Fortunately, God knows what we want for ourselves and for others and hears these longings directly from our minds and hearts.

"And the one who searches hearts knows what is the intention of the Spirit," Paul continues, "because he intercedes for the holy ones according to God's will." The news gets even better. God searches our hearts and knows our intentions, and intercedes for us accordingly. This suggests that good intentions are indeed recognized by God.

Now if you really think about it, it makes sense that God hears our deepest longings as well as our formal prayers. I mean, if our prayers needed to be especially articulate and well formulated, then perhaps only educated, literary folks would have access to God's mercy. But you don't have to be an English major in order to be a disciple of Christ. It also makes sense that God searches our hearts for our intentions as well as examining our actions. Doing the right thing for the wrong reason is often no more redemptive than doing nothing at all.

Today's readings conclude with several parables from Matthew's Gospel, among them the parable of the mustard seed. "It is the smallest of all the seeds," he says, "yet when full-grown it is the largest of plants. It becomes a large bush, and the 'birds of the sky come and dwell in its branches.'"

A tiny seed can become a strong, robust source of life. It may look small and insignificant, but combined with soil, water and sunlight, a seed can be transformed into something wonderful.

Perhaps our good intentions --- our longings to be the people God created us to be --- are like that seed: a tiny kernel of faith that has the potential to become something magnificent. They may seem meaningless to us and to others, but planted and nourished by the grace of God, those intentions just might be realized.

Bill Peatman writes from Napa.