Sermon

The Parable of the Seeds

by The Rev. Carol Sanford

Good morning! It’s still summer here in Kansas City, in case you haven’t noticed. The combination of steamy summer days with the parable of the sower and the seeds takes me back to the small herb and vegetable garden I used to have. It was a lovely garden and I eagerly tended it … until about mid-July.  For the rest of the summer, that garden became something of an embarrassment. It was an annual example of how pests and weeds can benefit when gardeners are inside sipping ice tea. I had some fat and happy aphids, but very few edible tomatoes.

Literal gardens aside, our gospel today takes me back a few years for another reason. Whenever I hear the parable of the sower, I am transported back to Christ Church, Springfield. As parishioners there, Grady and I sometimes went to a Thursday evening service and then we went to the lake on Sunday.  I’m sure no on here has ever skipped a Sunday, and I’m certainly not encouraging you to do so, but I must say that I learned a wonderful tool for living at one of those mid-week services.

In a homily on the parable we just heard, Fr. James Martin did not take the usual perspective. The clear interpretation of this story is that we must pay attention to what kind of soil we are, according to Jesus’ teaching. Are we rocky? Shallow? Without roots?  Are the seeds of the kingdom within us torn away or choked out by distractions, fears or temptations? Is our faith so shallow that our hope in God withers under pressure? What kind of soil are we?

Another way to enter this parable is to consider what kind of sowers we are. In a sort of variation on the idea that we do not cast our pearls before swine, we can think about how we expend our talents and our money and our energy. Are we distributing ourselves in life-giving ways, or are we throwing God’s gifts onto metaphorically barren ground? Good questions.

In a sort of paradox typical of working with parables, we can flip that approach upside down and note that God is so generous that the seeds of ongoing creation are scattered everywhere, even onto barren, thorny, or rocky ground. God so loves us that the possibility of abundant life is offered in every conceivable circumstance. We can, then, ask ourselves if we, imitating God’s Grace, are generous and willing to freely offer what we have, regardless of how, or even if, it is used.

These are all good, traditional ways of thinking about the sower and the seeds. But Father James took a different angle, one I had never heard before; he asked us to think about the seeds themselves. So let’s do that.

In the parable, Jesus tells us that the seeds are ‘the word of the kingdom.’ For Christians, Jesus Christ is the Word of God, spoken aloud, as compassion and love and forgiveness and salvation, and as a window to eternal life itself. Christ is the word of the kingdom that we use as the measure of what kind of seeds we are sowing and what kind of seeds we are tending.

It has become a practice in our home to check our behavior by remembering the seeds in the parable. One of us , for example, might start to say something less than kind about  a political situation or a public personality, and then we will catch ourselves and say instead, “Oops, bad seed, never mind.” If we are on solid ground, that ends the subject.

I can always tell when I’m a little off base, because I will say to Grady something like, Oh, that’s ok, one bad seed won’t hurt, tell me anyway.  I’m wrong, of course. Every bad seed holds the potential to damage both the sower and the earth that receives it.

We all have many daily opportunities to reflect on what we are inviting to take root in us, and on what we are nurturing in others and in our communities. Even in casual conversation, we can be aware of what seeds are being cast in our direction, and which ones we are adding to the communal ground.

I am by no means an ideal model of gracious seed-sowing, nor of being receptive only to seeds of righteousness. But I have for some time now practiced checking myself from the Fr. James’ perspective on this parable, and I can report that once you start paying attention, distinctions between good and bad seeds and soil begin to present themselves in a rather compelling fashion.

I find that God truly has planted in my heart what is healthy and what is not, what is kind and what is not, what is in line with the light and life of God and what is not. Sometimes, though, the more aware we are, the more discouraged we can become.

As we have been hearing from St. Paul in recent weeks, even when we know what is right and want to do it, we often cannot. Many ancient philosophies saw the body and the spirit as antagonistic, and a shadow of this approach shows up in the letter to the Romans, but most of us don’t have to go that far in order to identify with ‘weakness of the flesh.’ Whether in struggles to lose a few pounds, or with more severe burdens like a damaging temper or a crippling compulsion, we understand that something often blocks us from the very joy and freedom we most desire and seek.

This is why Paul’s message is so spectacular. In saying that Jesus has set us free from the law of sin and death, he is letting us know that there is hope, and that neither outside influences nor our own failings can keep us from God, the source of ongoing life. There is a way that frees us from despair, and actually lives within us as the Spirit of God.  I can personally attest to the power of relying upon the very Sprit of God dwelling within me, even when I don’t quite know how to believe that such a thing is possible.

I suspect that some of you have already discovered the life of the Spirit within you. If not, you may perhaps do so rather quickly simply by noticing what kinds of seeds you are sowing and receiving throughout the day, and then watching over time what grows up within and around you. It is not a matter of trying harder, but rather of giving ourselves over to God’s Grace, sometimes alone in our hearts but often in mutual assistance to one another.

We have incredible power dwelling within us and working among us.  St. Paul says, I assume from his own experience of freedom in God’s Grace, that we must set our minds on the things of the Spirit. Jesus in Matthew tells us directly that the word of the kingdom is sown in our hearts. And from so long ago and  far away, Isaiah sets out before us that God’s word accomplishes God’s purpose, that we may go out in joy and come back in peace, and that even the mountains and hills before us burst into song. Let’s not miss it.

In a way, I suppose it was good that I was looking after my internal garden when I avoided weeding on hot days, and at least the bugs and the squirrels were happy. But the seeds of eternal life within us must not be wasted or neglected. So my charge to you is to recognize yourselves as soil, and consider what seeds you are tending, and also to ask, “What seeds am I casting into the world?”  And don’t forget to watch for the yield; the abundance may surprise you.

Amen. 

© Grace and Holy Trinity Cathedral