Matthew 13:1-9
That same day Jesus went out of the house and sat by the lake. Such large crowds gathered around him that he got into a boat and sat in it, while all the people stood on the shore.
Then he told them many things in parables, saying: “A farmer went out to sow his seed. As he was scattering the seed, some fell along the path, and the birds came and ate it up. Some fell on rocky places, where it did not have much soil. It sprang up quickly because the soil was shallow. But when the sun came up, the plants were scorched, and they withered because they had no root. Other seed fell among thorns, which grew up and choked the plants. Still other seed fell on good soil, where it produced a crop—a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown.
Whoever has ears, let them hear.”
I read a story recently about a man who bought a new house. (I wish I could remember where I read this.) He really loved the house except for a stand of bamboo next to the driveway. Bamboo can be pretty invasive, so he was determined to get rid it, so he hacked it down, then dug deep to remove every root he could find. Then he poured herbicide on it and finally, he covered it over with cement... and three years later went out one morning to find one small shoot of bamboo growing up through the cement. That life was not to be denied. It would sprout and grow where it willed.
The reading for today is the story usually titled the “Parable of the Sower.” Just this week, I read a message by Nadia Bolz-Weber based on this same reading. (she’s a hard act to follow.) In her message, she says that she believes we, most of us, tend to think of this reading as being about the “Judgmental Soil,” even if we don’t call it that. You know, the rocky ground, the dry ground, the weedy ground — all this bad ground that rejects the good seed. We end up being so focused on the ground that I think we often forget all about the seed—and the seed, not the ground is, after all, the point of this parable.
And then she looked at the story from another angle and reminds us that in this “thorny and rocky and good world, God still is sowing a life-giving Word. Just wantonly and indiscriminately scattering it everywhere like God doesn't understand our rules.” ..... I love that line.
I preached a few years ago on “The Prodigal Son” and suggested then that story should be called instead, “The Extravagant Father.” Perhaps by the same train of thought, today’s story should be referred to as “The Extravagant Sower.”
A good farmer would surely prepare soil before planting and then sow the seed only where the soil was cleared and ready for it. After all, why waste good seed where you can be fairly sure it won’t grow? Where’s the return for the farmer? And yet, our Extravagant Sower appears to cast the seed everywhere — openly, freely — letting it grow (if it will) where it lands. God just indiscriminately throws the Word out there anywhere, throws love and kindness all around the place, and beauty into places none of us may ever see.
Some of the most beautiful green and growing things I have ever come across were found in little rocky nooks, far up in the high mountains, at a distance from the beaten trails where few ever go. Some of the most beautiful music ever composed has come from musicians who struggled in obscurity. Brilliant strides have been made in science and in medicine by thinkers raised in impoverished and restricted and stifling surroundings.
By our rules that’s not the way things are supposed to work. Hard work and good preparation are what produce the good results, right? The one with the most money is the winner, right?
Maybe God understands our rules just fine. Maybe God just doesn’t think much of them. You have to admit, most of our human-made rules are pretty sad – restrictive and petty and classist and exclusionary -- whereas God shows again and again and again God’s preference for the inclusive, the expansive, the welcoming.
Our God is an extravagant God. One who throws out love and grace in all the expected places — and, in the most un-expected places as well. Perhaps what God would like from us in return is to not become so embroiled in fighting the weeds in our cherished, tidy gardens that we entirely miss the morning glories exploding on the other side of the fence.
Don’t forget to look around you occasionally. Don’t miss the flash of flaming red on a hummingbird’s throat or the trilling call of the tiny insignificant brown house finch. Don’t miss the love offered by someone you might think isn’t worthy of your friendship or the kind gesture from one who has had little kindness shown him. Don’t miss the grace all around you just because it’s popping up where you least expect it.
And, most particularly, don’t miss out on daily contact with God because you think God only speaks in a church. God speaks to us—loudly, softly, publicly, privately—everywhere and all the time. Just listen and look.
Amen.
The reading for today is the story usually titled the “Parable of the Sower.” Just this week, I read a message by Nadia Bolz-Weber based on this same reading. (she’s a hard act to follow.) In her message, she says that she believes we, most of us, tend to think of this reading as being about the “Judgmental Soil,” even if we don’t call it that. You know, the rocky ground, the dry ground, the weedy ground — all this bad ground that rejects the good seed. We end up being so focused on the ground that I think we often forget all about the seed—and the seed, not the ground is, after all, the point of this parable.
And then she looked at the story from another angle and reminds us that in this “thorny and rocky and good world, God still is sowing a life-giving Word. Just wantonly and indiscriminately scattering it everywhere like God doesn't understand our rules.” ..... I love that line.
I preached a few years ago on “The Prodigal Son” and suggested then that story should be called instead, “The Extravagant Father.” Perhaps by the same train of thought, today’s story should be referred to as “The Extravagant Sower.”
A good farmer would surely prepare soil before planting and then sow the seed only where the soil was cleared and ready for it. After all, why waste good seed where you can be fairly sure it won’t grow? Where’s the return for the farmer? And yet, our Extravagant Sower appears to cast the seed everywhere — openly, freely — letting it grow (if it will) where it lands. God just indiscriminately throws the Word out there anywhere, throws love and kindness all around the place, and beauty into places none of us may ever see.
Some of the most beautiful green and growing things I have ever come across were found in little rocky nooks, far up in the high mountains, at a distance from the beaten trails where few ever go. Some of the most beautiful music ever composed has come from musicians who struggled in obscurity. Brilliant strides have been made in science and in medicine by thinkers raised in impoverished and restricted and stifling surroundings.
By our rules that’s not the way things are supposed to work. Hard work and good preparation are what produce the good results, right? The one with the most money is the winner, right?
Maybe God understands our rules just fine. Maybe God just doesn’t think much of them. You have to admit, most of our human-made rules are pretty sad – restrictive and petty and classist and exclusionary -- whereas God shows again and again and again God’s preference for the inclusive, the expansive, the welcoming.
Our God is an extravagant God. One who throws out love and grace in all the expected places — and, in the most un-expected places as well. Perhaps what God would like from us in return is to not become so embroiled in fighting the weeds in our cherished, tidy gardens that we entirely miss the morning glories exploding on the other side of the fence.
Don’t forget to look around you occasionally. Don’t miss the flash of flaming red on a hummingbird’s throat or the trilling call of the tiny insignificant brown house finch. Don’t miss the love offered by someone you might think isn’t worthy of your friendship or the kind gesture from one who has had little kindness shown him. Don’t miss the grace all around you just because it’s popping up where you least expect it.
And, most particularly, don’t miss out on daily contact with God because you think God only speaks in a church. God speaks to us—loudly, softly, publicly, privately—everywhere and all the time. Just listen and look.
Amen.
RSS Feed