Prepare the Soil, Sow the Seeds

Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23                                          Rev. Todd B. Freeman

Bethany Presbyterian Church, Dallas                                  July 10, 2005

Rodger Wilson was a man of many passions. Rodger joined this church back in 1979, moved with his partner, James, to New York City in 1998, and passed away in late 1999 at the young age of 48. Rodger was passionate about music and the theater; passionate about issues of inclusivity; passionate about ministries of compassion; passionate about being a Presbyterian; and most certainly passionate about gardening.

Landscaping, in fact, was more than a hobby. For years Roger tenderly and tenaciously tended the grounds here at Bethany. To this day there remains the remnants of the compost pile he diligently maintained on the far side of the Parish House, bounded by railroad ties.

Rodger knew the importance of good soil. He used that carefully-prepared soil in the planting of countless flowers and over a dozen trees here on our property. These trees stand as a bold legacy of his passion for this congregation, and for gardening itself.

I bring all this up this morning for two reasons. The first is that it is important that we remember our own, especially the ones who are no longer with us but are a part of our rich history. Secondly, Rodger Wilson could have really related, perhaps as Jesus’ first listeners did, to today’s parable about sowing seeds in different kinds of soil.

The four kinds of soil in which seeds were sown in this parable were hard-packed, rocky and shallow, soil that also contained many thorny plants, and finally good soil. As expected, seeds react differently to these soils. Birds snatch the seed off the hard-packed soil; the sun scorches the young plants springing up in the shallow, rocky soil; the growing plants are no match for the chocking thorns. But finally, the seed that makes it to the good soil can grow to full maturity and bear good fruit.

There are two primary ways in which this parable can be interpreted. One way focuses on the soil, the other on the act of sowing the seeds themselves.

Notice that the second part of today’s Gospel Lesson from Matthew 13 includes an explanation of this parable, attributed to Jesus. This kind of interpretation is called an allegory. In allegory, almost each and every detail of the parable is given a meaning – the seed means this, the rocky soil mean that, the thorns symbolize something else, and so on. But for the past hundred-plus years of modern biblical scholarship, most scholars agree that this allegorical interpretation, at least in its present form, did not originate with Jesus but comes from the experience of the early church, and from the gospel writer’s community of faith.

Biblical commentator and Presbyterian preacher and professor Thomas Long writes, “The interpretation is a kind of ‘sermon,’ applying Jesus’ parable to the concrete circumstances faced by the early church. What had they experienced? They experienced what Jesus’ own ministry experienced – some positive response amid much rejection. People were responding to the gospel and becoming a part of the Christian community, but the growth curve was not always up. Sometimes new converts to the Christian faith would suddenly, seemingly without cause, grow cold and fade away. Others would be ardent Christians until it began to cost them something, or persecution arose, or the anxious cares of life weighed them down; then they would leave their once enthusiastic faith.”

Have we not witnessed some of the same in recent months and years here at Bethany and within our denomination?

A focus upon the different kinds of soil has led to the traditional understanding of this parable as a question directed to ourselves: What kind of soil am I? How receptive and responsive to the Word of God am I? Does the gospel message go in one ear and immediately out the other? Does it start to take root but then is quickly chocked out by other cares of life? Or, does its roots grow to the depths of our being, allowing us to grow in faith and produce the good fruit of works of love and compassion?

There’s nothing particularly wrong with this interpretation. In fact, it’s not a bad idea to take stock of our own spiritual lives now and then and assess how receptive and responsive we are to the word of God. However, following the lead of most biblical scholars, I don’t think that is the primary emphasis Jesus had in mind when he first told this parable.

So instead of focusing on the different kinds of soil, let’s look at what it means to be the sower of the seeds. This approach focuses more upon our commitment to spread the gospel than it does on our willingness to receive it. It also speaks directly to both the pessimism and optimism of putting our faith into action through our works of ministry.

Notice how the farmer in the parable sows the seed. As Long reflects: “This is no careful, prudent planter. Far from cautious, this farmer throws seed around with abandon. It flies in all directions and lands everywhere – on the hard path, all over a rock-littered patch, into the thorn bushes, as well as onto the good rich topsoil. In other words, the farmer in this parable is not a normal planter; he is a farmer whose methods reflect the kingdom of heaven. He sows the seed extravagantly, as widely as he can, oblivious to the risks, much as God lavishes mercy [and grace] upon [us and all] humanity. To be sure, the farmer takes some losses…but never mind. Despite the wasted efforts and the squandered seed, the farmer nonetheless achieves a bumper crop – a hundredfold, sixtyfold, thirtyfold.”

The work of the kingdom, like the work of the farmer, will take its share of blows, will have a series of seemingly overwhelming setbacks, but the abundant harvest is sure.

The church in every time and place knows the truth of this parable. It takes the gospel into the world, hardly knowing where to cast the seed – a new idea here, a different proposal there, a change in program along the way. Often only to find: Hard soil. Scorching sun. Sharp thorns. The church knows the truth of this parable.

But there is more than pessimism in this parable. In fact, we are to take special notice of the ending, which reveals the promise in our work of sowing seeds. As Long encourages, “Keep on preaching the gospel and showing the compassion of the kingdom [of God]. In ways that we do not always know and in places we cannot always see, the gospel is falling on good soil, and even now the great harvest of God is growing rich and full in the fields.”

Much of our work and ministry efforts has also, and may, fall upon unproductive soil. But not all of it. Yes, it is easy to fall into despair, to focus on failures, loss in church membership and financial revenues, and the burden of survival. But just at the point when the pattern of defeat seems confirmed, when one disaster after another would lead most sowers to give up farming altogether – a few seeds take root in good soil and burst forth with an unexpectedly abundant harvest.

Are we willing to believe the promise of this parable? Yes the work is hard, often disheartening, but the great harvest is assured. The message here is more than just for us to be increasingly diligent and patient. Here’s the twist. (By the way if we don’t find a twist in Jesus’ parable, then we aren’t getting to the heart his message.) “In this parable the great harvest comes unexpectedly and is much more extravagant than could ever have been anticipated. The farmer in this parable would not congratulate himself that his hard work had finally pay off; he would be astonished at the gift he had received, a harvest more lavish than he could ever have dreamed.”

The message to the church is that the gift of a great harvest awaits us. Therefore, the church is called to “waste itself,” to throw grace around like there is no tomorrow, precisely because there is a tomorrow, and it belongs to God. I think this is what retired Episcopal Bishop John Shelby Spong is referring to in the second of his three points about Jesus’ ministry and our discipleship when he admonishes believers to: “love wastefully.”

It may also be important for us to remind ourselves that we’re not in this boat, or maybe I should say garden, alone.

Rev. Sarah Dylan Breuer, an Episcopal priest in a congregation in Maryland, recently addressed her congregation in a sermon on this parable this way (take note of the parallels with Bethany):

There’s been a lot of talk at St. Martin’s about scarcity, about guarding closely what’s precious because it seems to be rare. Money is tight; time is hard to spare.

Even when we’re looking at less tangible and measurable qualities we value, like love and blessing, there’s sometimes a sense that the good things God has for us are in such limited supply that the only kind of good and responsible stewardship is to guard it very carefully, give it only to those we’re sure are worthy, protect it like the last egg of the rarest endangered bird.

Predictions of peril and doom provide a great deal of anxiety, and living on a knife edge like that not only causes constant unrest, but also tends to shut down the kind of creativity and life-giving vision that energizes us to live more deeply into God’s dreams for us as individuals, in community, and for the world. That’s not the Good News God has for us…

We are called to treat God’s love, God’s justice, and God’s blessing, precious as these are, as if they were absolutely limitless in supply for one simple reason: they are!

So even as we continue to prepare good soil, as important as that is, let us especially continue to sow seeds – and not fall into despair.

When Rodger Wilson planted the seedlings around our church property they were only inches high. Several of these trees today are nearing 20-, 30-, 40-feet high. And they are bearing good fruit.

Let us be that kind of gardener, abundantly sowing the seeds of the gospel in our daily and church life.

Amen.

Resource:

Thomas G. Long, Matthew, Westminster John Knox Press, 1997. (pgs. 146-151)