Gospel: Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23
At the outset let me say this: I’m no gardener. My thumbs are anything but green. Together with my poor hunting and fishing skills, gardening is that third area that reflects why it’s good Amy and our kids haven’t had to rely on my abilities for survival.
But my parents did tend a large garden for a time when I was a teenager. My paternal grandfather also had his own enormous garden, the first one on a lot next to his home in Lynchburg, followed by one he created on his mountaintop farm in Amherst County, and finally the one he nurtured on more than an acre behind the house in Madison Heights I knew as a child. Tending these gardens entailed a time- and labor-intensive process for my parents and grandfather. Each of them provided three generations of our family with a great deal of fresh food. For those of us kids who stayed with my grandparents during the summer months, their garden was also the source of a few chores (if I never have to snap another bean again, I’ll be okay with that).
One thing my grandfather’s and parents’ gardens were not, however, was random. They weren’t planted using a scattershot approach. For both, there was careful thought given to what vegetables would be planted where, when things would be rotated, and what the Farmers’ Almanac said to do next. In that context, then, it sems the sower in this morning’s parable didn’t know what they were doing. We have what appears to be the worst demonstration of how to garden: throwing seeds in every direction and waiting to see what takes root, and where. And if you look at the result of the four scenarios Jesus presents, this sower has a 25% success rate.
But parables aren’t about what we find on the surface. These lessons of life and faith were shared by Jesus for the deeper meanings found beneath the surface. Often, he shares them with the listeners and then leaves them to figure out what they mean. In today’s reading though we hear, with this one parable from a series of three, a rare moment when Jesus interprets his parable for the disciples. He explains the significance of each type of ground (each person) on which the seed (his message) falls. This is a parable formed from his own experience of ministry as he preached throughout the land, an experience “in which his words sometimes fail to take root in the hearers.”[1] This is a parable grounded as well in the rejection of the message of God by various groups, those lacking solid commitment, or who are distracted by the problems of life, or those who may simply not want to hear it.[2]
Something I’ve been considering as well is the idea that on a deeper level perhaps this isn’t as bad a demonstration of trying to plant seeds as first appears. The seed that is Jesus’ message could very well have been limited to being scattered only on the good soil, those listeners in which he knew it would take root and grow. But he instead scattered the seed everywhere, the thorny and rocky soil just as much as the good. God’s word isn’t just available and able to be shared with those ready to receive it; it’s available to anyone. How the seed grows depends on how well it’s received.
So Jesus travels across the various types of soil in the land, scattering God’s word wherever he goes and among whoever will listen to him. He’s the one moving; it’s the land that’s stationary. But what happens, however, when it’s not the sower who’s moving but rather the ground itself that’s shifting beneath the feet of the listener? How well can the seed take root when it is not the rockiness or thorniness of the ground that is the issue, but rather its instability?
For me one of the most significant times of feeling the ground shift beneath our feet was during the pandemic. You’ll recall how the rich soil in which this community is rooted in very short order became the shallowness and rockiness of physical separation. What once seemed clear and healthy became weedy and thorny. It caused angst, pain, and loneliness. The things that brought the most joy – fellowship and gathering at the altar rail – became the things whose absence brought the greatest grief.
So in times like that, and in moments when our lives bring shifting sands and unsteady ground, how should we adapt? What should we do in response? I propose that as we stand on that uncertain ground we re-vision what we do on and with that ground. When the seed of God’s word, love, and presence comes to us on the rocky or thorny ground, we shouldn’t mourn the place where we’re standing when we receive it. I think we should instead rejoice by receiving that seed wherever we are and finding new ways to help it take root. When the seed falls at our feet when we’re standing here, we shouldn’t grieve the fact that we didn’t receive it over there, where we’d rather be. We should instead joyfully consider that God is still reaching out to us wherever we are and find new ways to help that seed take root.
While bringing congratulations and prayers for me (for which I’m thankful), I know the announcement this week of my impending departure for a new role with the diocese has brought many of you varying degrees of disappointment, grief, and uncertainty. In these past few days, some of you have felt the ground shift beneath your feet. Perhaps the rich soil of this place now seems a bit more rocky or thorny. Thankfully, we still have a few weeks together to reflect on and rejoice about what this place and this community means to so many.
For now I offer this. This exciting new call has shifted the ground on which I stand in a new and unexpected way. While my location will change, my call won’t. I will continue to pray, stay rooted in scripture, live into the words of the Baptismal Covenant, take strength from the sacraments and our liturgies, and do the best I can with the seed tossed at my feet on the ground upon which I stand. In the interim period to come, I encourage you to continue doing what you’ve always done, to honor your call. Love. Welcome. Worship. Serve. God’s message, God’s Church, and God’s love are bigger than this place. They are greater than this building. They are far more expansive than this patch of ground. God will always be with you on whatever ground you may be standing, rich soil and rocky ground alike. The challenge – I think the better word is opportunity – for you is to determine what you do with the seed God scatters at your feet, no matter the time, circumstance, or place.
If we tend to the ground on which we stand, wherever it is, with faithfulness, joy, and hope, then any ground on which we receive God’s message and God’s love can be very rich and very productive.
Amen.
[1] Michelle Voss Roberts, “Matthew 13:1-9 – Theological Perspective.” Feasting on the Gospels: Matthew, Vol. 1 (Kindle edition).
[2] Roberts.