Sermon, Pentecost +6 (A)

            Do you ever have those moments where something comes out of nowhere, and you have that *facepalm* WHOA experience? Watching a movie or reading a novel, with a sudden plot-twist, for example, when you later think: How did I miss that all along?? The unexpected who-did-it in a who-dunnit novel, or the Star Wars "LUKE - I AM YOUR FATHER" kind of thing. These catch us off guard and surprise us - and invite us go back and reflect over what has happened, because we want to know where and how we got distracted, and where and how this new information is going to play into how we go forward.

            Well, this morning I bring this up because - surprise surprise - these things happen in scripture, too. We can get really caught up in one direction, so much so that we miss some other major learnings in the same story. So God continually invites us to return, and reflect, and to consider how to apply this new knowledge, this new perception, to how we move forward.

            Let's look at the Genesis passage, for a start. For biblical folks, the Jacob lineage spoke of family dynamics, societal relations, and holy covenant. Many Sunday Schools have taught children that this is a stew story about not disrespecting what we have. Right?

            There's more to it, though... the naming of things (Esau means hairy, Jacob means both to follow and to over-reach.) From the womb, we are foretold that the first-born child (who will be granted disproportionate amounts of land and goods) is not going to have an easy go at it. Sibling rivalry starts early.

            And Esau is impetuous, looking for immediate satisfaction, and not really respecting his circumstance.

            But Jacob - as second-born, would need to rely on the mercy of his elder sibling's management of the tangible implications of the birthright. This fact would feel unfair at any time, but especially so when these two were born mere moments apart. Jacob is often made out to be the villain here, a mean trickster denying food to his starving brother until he can get the goods for himself. Yikes! Except... Esau isn't starving to death. He's hungry after a day of hunting, of sporting exertion. He didn't need the stew to survive, he just wasn't willing to go looking elsewhere.

            Hmm. That changes our first reading of this text then, doesn't it! It challenges our pre-conceived notion of the interchange between these two brothers, and perhaps even why Esau later despises his birthright: he's not angry at Jacob for taking it, but at himself for agreeing to trade it for a single meal. Thus Esau - the red child, who ate red lentils, who is named Edom (meaning red: the colour of blood, of stains, of wounds and sores) - well, Esau, to use a modern expression, sees red - and we see a different expression of God's grace and God's mission.

            I'm going to take us now to the Gospel: The parable of the sower - another passage we know well! There are four types of soil, and traditionally we are invited to think about what type of soil we want to be when the seed is cast down: eaten up as an instant and short-lived meal on the path, quick but unrooted growers in the rocks, growing minimally in bad company that chokes the life out of us, or growing abundantly in good soil!

            Obviously, we want to be the seed on good soil, producing abundantly, with  healthy spiritual lives! This is good stuff.

            But let's not forget the 3/4 of the seeds that didn't make it to the good soil - because they are not wasted; they're just used differently. The birds had a meal, after all. Maybe the unrooted sprouts were washed downstream to a different location with better soil. Perhaps the choked out growth was perfect for making soft beds for animals to make a home. There's use there.

            But I'm going to take us one more unexpected direction with this passage - the A-HA moment for many, that I borrow from Barbara Brown Taylor in her book "The Seeds of Heaven". Jesus himself invites all who have ears to listen, as he invites us to "Hear then, the parable of the sower." This is not the parable of the seeds - though as Jesus speaks about those, we are satisfied in our distraction.

            Yet - let's re-direct our thoughts to the sower. The one casting those seeds about. Consider how extravagantly those seeds are being cast - the sower is literally tossing these valuable seeds everywhere - even in places (3 of the 4 mentioned) that are known to not be typical producers. The sower is being impractical - inefficient - wasteful - well, gosh, that's not at all how we would do it! Where are the rows, and the carefully measured holes, and the nets to keep out birds, and the plan to remove weeds, and the...

.           But. The sower - doesn't care about all that. The sower is not concerned with being frugal here, 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. Because the sower - in the kingdom that Jesus is speaking of - is 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]

            Wow. That's so much better than just landing on good dirt, isn't it? It's a new opportunity to hear what Jesus is saying, to delve deeper into what we can learn from this - about seeds, about soil, and about casting love and grace, without concern for what happens after it has been cast.

           

            So these two examples are a great way for us to focus our thoughts and prayers this week, when we consider ourselves as the church. Because - like it or not - COVID has been a significant plot-twist in our lives. It's changed our selves, our community, our world - and our church. And we realise that while it's been a long time so far, it's going to be a long time yet.

            But - rather than being distracted by a paralyzing desire of "going back to what was" (which is highly unlikely anyway), we have the privilege to think differently about this. We have the opportunity to reflect on how we can move confidently and faithfully into the future. We can have our WHOA! moments in how we will BE the church.

            Conversations of re-visioning and re-imagining the church are not easy - they are not always comfortable - they are often ignored, because they usually indicate a change is needed. And the church has been a pillar of continuity and same-ness for centuries. But... change is no longer an option, it's a reality.

            So I invite us to be excited that we have this time to reflect... to consider what we love about BEing the church, and finding new ways to exercise those ministries. I invite us to be energised for this time to consider how to re-create patterns and rhythms that will help us to cast God's love broadly in our communities. I invite us to be brave as we are finding new teachings that God has been revealing to us.

            For that is the beauty of those moments, these plot twists: no matter what happens, we know that God is with us. We know that we, AS the church, will continue. We know that we have each other to support, to encourage, to love. We know that God continues to speak to us as we journey forward together. Let anyone with ears hear the Good News of God.