Transcript
A sower went out to sow. Please be seated.
My house has a wonderful little backyard. It’s fenced in, perfect for a small dog to run around. And I’ve slowly begun to turning it into a garden, a landscaped area. I have a raised bed with tomatoes and peppers, herbs in pots. I even have a strawberry plants, and plenty of flowering bushes. When I first moved in, much of what had been left unattended. So, I’ve been pruning, pulling weeds, trimming back bamboo, mowing the lawn.
Something I had never done before, mind you. And little by little, the whole yard has come alive. One plant I thought was nearly lost, completely grown over by something else, burst into little white flowers this spring. It’s amazing what happens when something is cared for. Rather than living in a house that looked overgrown and overwhelmed by weeds, I’ve managed to cultivate something beautiful.
Of course, this all came to mind while I was reading today’s gospel, the parable of the sower. Or maybe the parable of the soil. Jesus tells this parable, a sower casts seeds falling to four different spots. One, the path, and the birds came and ate them up. Two, rocky ground, and they sprang up quickly, but when the sun rose, they were scorched, and they withered away. Three, among thorns. And the thorns grew up and choked them. And four, good soil, and brought forth grain.
And we immediately know exactly how that works. Even if you’ve got not a single bit of green that’s sown in you, you still know how this goes. You know the path won’t work, nor will the rocky ground, nor will the thorns. But just in case we’re unclear, Jesus so graciously explains what the parable means.
It’s about hearing the word of the kingdom. It’s about the kingdom of God, and hearing and understanding and embodying the gospel. And it’s easy to see this as evangelistic. To think about telling your friends and family members and neighbors about Jesus. And imagining some of them being like the path, and some of them being like the rocky soil, and some of them being like the thorny area, and some of them being like the good soil.
But rather than looking outward, I invite all of us to look inward. To take an honest look at ourselves. Where do we fit into this parable? Individually, internally, in our own hearts and minds.
I will admit being good soil is really hard. In fact, if all of you were to say, “No, we’re all good soil here.” I would challenge you to keep working. Keep looking. Keep praying.
Because I suspect many of us are less like the good soil. And also, are not the path or the rocky ground. Instead, I suspect many of us are more like the thorny soil. God’s word takes root in us. But so does worry, and fear, and distraction, and resentment, and temptation. Little by little those competing voices begin to choke out what God is trying to grow.
Since this parable is in all three synoptic gospels, synoptic is Matthew, Mark, and Luke, almost exactly word for word, most scholars believe this is an actual saying of Jesus. And if this is an actual saying from Jesus, then imagine what it would have been like to live with Jesus in his time when he would have shared this. In a time when poverty and persecution were major threats.
Jesus first told this parable to ordinary people, many of whom were farmers. They knew exactly what the selling looked like. A farmer at the time scattered the seed broadly, knowing some would grow and some would never grow. At that time there weren’t carefully prepared garden beds like ours today. The seed was literally casted generously, turning trusting that some would take root, hoping and praying that some would stick. And some would prosper, and some would produce a harvest.
Kind of like our own hearts. We don’t always choose the condition of our hearts. Life leaves its mark on all of us. By God’s grace we can cultivate what we entrust with. And we have to hope and pray that what is in there, in our hearts, you know, the seed that God has scattered, will be good enough, strong enough, healthy enough to produce a harvest.
But that leads to the next step. Have you done the work? Much like my own yard at my own house, we may not always know what is in the corners of our hearts, what is hidden under some of those seeds. But again, much like my own yard and landscaping, we can work on it. We can work on our own hearts. We may not control where the seed first lands, but we can tend to the condition of our hearts. We can remove what chokes life. We can make room for God to work.
And while we don’t always have good soil everywhere, we can at least work to help what is in our hearts become better soil. More fruitful. More generous. More loving.
When we let hatred in, when we let hatred and anger and fear in, when we allow ourselves to attack those around us, then we are doing the exact opposite. We are no longer cultivating good soil. Instead, hatred, fear, pride, greed, prejudice, whatever separates us from God and from one another, it slowly erodes the good soil within us. Dries up the sources of hope. Chokes out the sun. That’s the fun.
If we want to be called good soil, if we want our hearts to be filled with God’s good news of the kingdom, if we want hope and love and the promise that Jesus died for each of us to be fulfilled, then we must work on our own hearts to eliminate all the ways in which the good soil is stripped of its goodness. Perhaps this parable isn’t just about the sower, because it’s also a parable about the soil. About our hearts. Hearts that need tending. Hearts that sometimes become hard, rocky, overgrown.
And yet here is the good news. The sower never stops sowing seeds. God keeps sowing the seeds of grace even for hearts that seem unpromising. God keeps giving us another chance and another chance, and another chance to clear away the thorns, soften the hard places, and make room for new life. And as we do that, where God’s kingdom grows within us, until the harvest is not merely good, but abundant beyond anything we imagine.
And then, we won’t just have a good harvest. We’ll have a miraculous harvest. A harvest that brings forth a hundredfold. A harvest that reveals who God created each of us to be. Our best selves. Our truly authentic, Christ-like selves.
How is the soil in your heart?
Amen. Amen.