This
Sunday we get the first of a string of parables that Jesus tells his followers.
So let's think about parables as a
whole. They're nice, short analogies. They're meant to be easily understood, as
they use characters and situations that just about everyone in that context can
relate to. They're designed and shared to share a moral or spiritual lesson. And
Jesus uses them a lot.
Now,
I say they're "meant to be easily understood" because sometimes -
even with the number of biblical commentaries that are out there - we can
misunderstand what is being said. We can be so out of the context that we don't
understand the reference. Or, even like the disciples in the weeks to come,
sometimes even THEY didn't fully grasp the intentions and implications of the lesson
from the teacher.
So,
knowing that before we start, we can be a bit more gentle with ourselves as we
do our best on this gorgeous and hot Sunday morning to understand what Jesus is
talking about, why it mattered then, and how we are going to find its meaning
in our own lives.
Now,
this first parable, commonly called the parable of the sower - well, this is
one that we all understand. Right? It's one we've heard before, it's one we
could tell others about - we've got this. Don't we? Would we be comfortable or confident if suddenly there was
a pop quiz on the passage we've just heard? Hmm.
But
- still - we know this! Jesus is talking about the kingdom of heaven, and wants
us to think about where we fit into that, and how our spiritual life is going.
So we hear about the seed and where it falls. There's good seed, being cast
around, and it can fall in one of four places, with expected and easily
understood consequences. Clearly, it's about how we respond in faith to the
world around us; how we receive the word of God from the WORD of God.
The
seed can fall on the path: it would be eaten by birds. Well, we don't want that
for ourselves, now do we? To be unable for our faith to even take root, and
instead to be feasted on by something else?
The
seed can also fall on the rocky ground: lacking the depth to really take root, so
trying to spring up, but then withering without a solid foundation to nourish
and support us. Hmm. Also no.
The
seed than might fall into a thorny patch, and try as it might be so overwhelmed
by everything else that's happening there that it is suffocated away from
growth. Life's complicated enough for us all without needing to worry that
distractions of the earthly "good life" are literally killing our
spirits. Nope.
So
the fourth option then comes when the seed hits good hospitable soil. And when
that happens, it takes off to astronomical results.
Now:
THAT's what we all want, right? Clearly Jesus was talking to US in THIS
category. Good seed, good soil, good growth. We're to think about what type of
soil we are, and how we can improve ourselves so that we can be in that small
group that is thriving and producing. With a 75% failure rate, we do not want
to be anywhere else. So we work at it, right?
And
naturally, Jesus is going to tell us precisely how to land ourselves in that
25% success group. Except: this is that pop quiz part: he doesn't. He leaves that one to us.
But
he does invite us to delve deeper into it. "Let anyone with ears
listen!"
It's
at this point where we really get to think about what it is that he's been
saying. And not necessarily how we normally listen. Because we tend to listen
only half-way - as someone in front of us is speaking, we're already planning
our reply. Yet Jesus is encouraging a deeper type of listening. A spiritual
listening, a time to take in what is being communicated to us, and reflect on
it, and really think about it. Then, our response is not an immediate verbal
reply, but one that is lived out through our actions.
So
our interaction with this parable is not going to be a quick "I'm on good
soil, I'll produce!" but a mandate to live our lives in such a way that we
do grow and produce and then grow some more and produce some more. It's a slow
and steady reality. It takes time of being nourished and supported by the word.
It's a process of understanding the word, of re-engaging with the same messages
over and over again as we discover new ways to make our lives align with what
it is we are hearing.
So
let's consider this parable of the sower, as though we've never heard it
before. let's ignore what we think we understand about this parable, and try to
hear it with new ears and hearts. Because here's a few things that are
happening in this parable that you may not have really heard before...
Firstly,
Jesus is talking about the Kingdom of God; the Kingdom of Heaven. And he's not
referencing it way off in the future. Jesus is talking about how close and how
present the Kingdom is. It's here, and it's now, and it's up to us to celebrate
that we are catching glimpses of it every day. It's when we truly trust that
the Kingdom of God is part of our present reality that we can start to grow a
little bit more, and produce a little bit more. God's not looking for our growth and production as some
sort of a final exam at the Pearly Gates; he's wanting it to be part of our
rule of life and practical practice of ministry.
Here's
another thing from the parable, which I share from Barbara Brown Taylor. Jesus
invites us to hear the parable of the sower. And then he talks about the
seeds. And we find ourselves distracted and satisfied with that.
But
imagine if we thought about the sower. Imagine if we considered the actions of
that sower, casting seed about. Imagine
if the lesson was not just about ourselves as the soil, but about how
extravagantly the seed is being cast. The sower here is literally tossing this
valuable seed EVERYWHERE. It's impractical, and inefficient, and not at all how
we would do things. We'd only plant in good soil, in clean rows, and put up
bird nets and weed out daily and... you get the point.
But
the sower isn't worried about that. The sower just wants to get as much seed
out as possible, in as many directions as possible, to the maximum potential
benefit, regardless of what's expected.
And there are benefits to that: birds eating
seed off the pathway, maybe some seed will be washed downstream and take root,
maybe there's a hidden hint of good soil untouched by rocks or thorns. Who
knows?
The
sower knows. And so the sower casts, our maker "who seems willing to keep
reaching into his seed bag for all eternity, covering the whole creation with
the fertile seed of his truth."[1]
This
is the gift of the word - that it is given time and again, in all conditions,
with the hope that we might hear it and understand. May we celebrate the
extravagance of the sower, to provide so many opportunities for us to open our
ears to listen.
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