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.
Today is the Third Sunday in Lent, and today I am doing something I think I’ve only done maybe two or three times in the twenty-plus years I’ve been preaching here.
I’d been cruising through some old files, reminding myself of the ways we’ve changed and the kinds of things we did in the first years of the pandemic shut-down – back in the days when our church doors were closed, with no gathering all together on Sunday morning. Church leaders everywhere were thrown into crash courses in Zoom and YouTube – working hard to find ways to keep sharing Jesus’ message – ways to be church in this strange new world we found ourselves in.
While browsing, one of my sermons from 2020 struck me – not because of my sermonizing skills, but because of the scripture message and it’s application to my thoughts on how we change and adapt as needed. This message from three years ago began like this:
“The reading for today is the story usually titled the “Parable of the Sower.” I read a message by Nadia Bolz-Weber based on this same reading. In her message, she says that she believes we, most of us, think of this reading as being about the “Judgmental Soil.” You know, the rocky ground, the dry ground, the weedy ground — all this bad ground that rejects the good seed. We end up so focused on the ground that we forget all about the seed.
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 this 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. 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. Just as if, as Bolz-Weber said, God doesn’t understand our rules. God just indiscriminately throws the Word out anywhere, throws love 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 came from musicians who struggled in obscurity. Brilliant strides have been made in science and in medicine by thinkers raised in impoverished and restricted surroundings.
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 our task is to not become so embroiled in fighting the weeds in our cherished gardens that we miss the Morning-Glories thriving on the other side of the fence. Don’t forget to look around you. Don’t miss the flash of flaming red on a hummingbird’s throat or the trilling call of the tiny brown house finch. Don’t miss the love offered by someone you might think isn’t worthy of your friendship. Don’t miss the grace all around you just because it’s popping up where you least expect it.
And don’t miss out on daily contact with God because you think God only speaks in a church. God speaks—loudly, softly, publicly, privately—everywhere, and anywhere, and all the time. Just keep throwing those seeds of love and grace around – freely and generously.
I’d been cruising through some old files, reminding myself of the ways we’ve changed and the kinds of things we did in the first years of the pandemic shut-down – back in the days when our church doors were closed, with no gathering all together on Sunday morning. Church leaders everywhere were thrown into crash courses in Zoom and YouTube – working hard to find ways to keep sharing Jesus’ message – ways to be church in this strange new world we found ourselves in.
While browsing, one of my sermons from 2020 struck me – not because of my sermonizing skills, but because of the scripture message and it’s application to my thoughts on how we change and adapt as needed. This message from three years ago began like this:
- 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. He was determined to get rid of that bamboo, so he hacked it down, then dug deep to remove every root he could find. Then he poured herbicide on it and finally, covered it 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.” I read a message by Nadia Bolz-Weber based on this same reading. In her message, she says that she believes we, most of us, think of this reading as being about the “Judgmental Soil.” You know, the rocky ground, the dry ground, the weedy ground — all this bad ground that rejects the good seed. We end up so focused on the ground that we forget all about the seed.
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 this 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. 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. Just as if, as Bolz-Weber said, God doesn’t understand our rules. God just indiscriminately throws the Word out anywhere, throws love 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 came from musicians who struggled in obscurity. Brilliant strides have been made in science and in medicine by thinkers raised in impoverished and restricted surroundings.
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 our task is to not become so embroiled in fighting the weeds in our cherished gardens that we miss the Morning-Glories thriving on the other side of the fence. Don’t forget to look around you. Don’t miss the flash of flaming red on a hummingbird’s throat or the trilling call of the tiny brown house finch. Don’t miss the love offered by someone you might think isn’t worthy of your friendship. Don’t miss the grace all around you just because it’s popping up where you least expect it.
And don’t miss out on daily contact with God because you think God only speaks in a church. God speaks—loudly, softly, publicly, privately—everywhere, and anywhere, and all the time. Just keep throwing those seeds of love and grace around – freely and generously.
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