Sermon, "Planting Seeds: Mustard Seed," Matthew 13:31-33, 17:14-20, Luke 17:5-6

Sermon 5/17/20

Matthew 13:31-33, 17:14-20, Luke 17:5-6

Planting Seeds: Mustard Seed

Today, as we wrap up our sermon series on Planting Seeds, we’re finishing up by turning our attention to the Mustard Seed. In his teaching, Jesus returns to the image of the mustard seed several times. It reads as a favorite metaphor of his. Using the image of the size of mustard seed in a proverb or parable like this seems to be original to Jesus. And Jesus talking about mustard seeds is the first time mustard appears at all in the scriptures. (1) Something about mustard apparently appeals to Jesus, and so today we’re digging into the times Jesus shares a lesson focused on the small seed. 

First, we read a parable from Matthew where mustard seed takes center stage. This parable appears in Matthew, Mark, and Luke, with slight variations. For our reading from Matthew, we’re back in chapter 13, where this parable comes in a string of parables, following two we’ve already explored: the parable of the sower and the parable of the wheat and the weeds. The parable of the mustard seed is very brief. Jesus says, “The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed that someone took and sowed in his field; it is the smallest of all the seeds, but when it has grown it is the greatest of shrubs and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and make nests in its branches.” That’s it. That’s the whole thing. Now, the mustard seed isn’t really the smallest seed - although that seems to be just a matter of translation, and mustard seeds don’t really grow into the largest shrub, and definitely isn’t a tree. But the seed is very small, certainly, and it does grow into something many, many, many times larger than the original seed - as most plants do. Big enough to support bird nests? Iffy. Jesus seems to be exaggerating to make his point. The very small grows into something very large. Remember, the parables tell us something about the kingdom of God, about God’s reign on earth, about how things are when they’re operating as God would have them be, now and in eternity. So God’s reign is like something that starts very small, and grows into something very large that provides a good benefit. Is that it? It seems too simple, doesn’t it? 

Let’s look at the other texts. Our next reading comes a little later in Matthew. It happens just after the Transfiguration. That’s that strange event where Jesus takes Peter, James, and John up a mountain, and Jesus is transfigured - his glory is revealed, he’s dazzling and radiant in white, he’s joined by Moses and Elijah, symbolizing the law and the prophets, and the three disciples hear God’s voice, declaring that Jesus is God’s child, urging the disciples to listen to Jesus. So, these disciples have just had a very clear affirmation of who Jesus is: child of God, creator of the universe. Now, though, a man approaches Jesus, seeking healing for his epileptic son. Apparently, he’d brought his son to Jesus’ disciples first, but they couldn’t heal him. Jesus heals the boy, but not before expressing his frustration with his disciples. “You faithless and perverse generation,” he laments. “How much longer must I be with you? How much longer must I put up with you?” Oof. Later, the disciples ask Jesus: “Why couldn’t we heal this boy?” and Jesus does not mince words in his answer: “Because of your little faith,” he says. “For truly I tell you, if you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, “Move from here to there”, and it will move; and nothing will be impossible for you.” Does this mean the disciples don’t have even as much faith as a mustard seed? They certainly don’t seem to be moving mountains, and I’ll confess: I haven’t moved any either! Jesus says with even a small amount of faith, mustard-seed-sized faith, nothing will be impossible for us. But I don’t feel like I can do anything - do you? Does that mean I don’t have faith? That the disciples didn’t? Is Jesus just exaggerating again about what faith can do? Or just speaking out of frustration? 

Our third text is similar in content but different in context. In Luke’s gospel, Jesus again talks about what mustard-seed-sized faith makes possible: “‘If you had faith the size of a mustard seed,” Jesus says, “you could say to this mulberry tree,“Be uprooted and planted in the sea”, and it would obey you.” He says this because the disciples ask Jesus to increase their faith. They need more, they’re sure, to do the work of Jesus. What prompts their request? The last thing Jesus says to them before this scene is this: “If the same person sins against you seven times a day, and turns back to you seven times and says, “I repent”, you must forgive.” No wonder the disciples were asking for more faith! If following Jesus, being a disciple means forgiving like that, who has enough faith to be up to the task? Here, Jesus seems to say the disciples don’t need an increase of faith. What they have already gives them enough to cause a tree to uproot itself and be planted in the sea. What an image! Again, I wonder: Is Jesus saying they do have that much faith already? Or that they don’t even have mustard-seed-sized faith? Because again, if Jesus isn’t exaggerating, I can only think I can barely convince my cat to move out of my spot on the couch, much less command a tree to move to the sea. Do we have faith? How much? Is it enough? 

I think our best bet is to turn back to the parable. What is God’s reign like? God’s reign is like something that starts very small, and grows into something very large that provides a good benefit. We asked if that was too simple to be the meaning of the parable, but I think we might sometimes confuse simple and easy. Jesus says it’s simple to sum up all the law and the prophets - love God with all our heart, mind, soul, and strength, and love our neighbors as ourselves. The commandments are simple. Are they easy? No! We spend our lives trying to live them out. But the meaning isn’t a puzzle for us to decode. So, God’s reign is like something that starts very small, and grows into something very large that provides a good benefit. Is that too simple? I don’t think it is supposed to be complicated. But it can still be challenging, pushing us as we seek to grow as disciples. 

Pastor John Murray puts it like this: “The insignificant  is overwhelmingly significant [in the kingdom of God.]” (2) I love how he puts that. In God’s way of things, God’s reign, what the world, what culture, what the powerful, what we have declared insignificant turns out to be overwhelmingly significant. We see this again and again in the scriptures. In the Hebrew scriptures, we read about a widow during a famine who has only enough food left for one more meal for her and her son. But they welcome the prophet Elijah into their home, and the food lasts and lasts and lasts. We see God choose the youngest of Jesse’s sons, David, who Jesse didn’t even think to include, when Samuel came looking to anoint the next King. That same David uses a small stone to defeat giant Goliath. We’re studying the teachings of Jesus, a small town boy born in what should have been obscurity, and yet, he changes the world. Jesus takes up a little bit of bread and fish, offered by a child, and turns it into a meal for thousands. The insignificant  is overwhelmingly significant in the kingdom of God. What’s more, we can remember that God’s focus in the law we learn in the Hebrew scriptures, and demonstrated in the teachings and actions of Jesus - God’s focus is on special care for the most vulnerable - the poor, the orphaned, the widowed, and the foreigner. Those whom society would declare insignificant - in God’s reign, in God’s eyes, in God’s heart - they’re overwhelmingly significant. Maybe “the most vulnerable” in our society today isn’t exactly the same list, but pretty close, don’t you think? In God’s eyes, those who find themselves continually pushed to the margins, excluded, discarded, overlooked? Those who are repeatedly told they’ll amount to nothing? That they’re worth nothing? That they have nothing of value to contribute? In the kin-dom of God, they are overwhelmingly significant. And so we, God’s people, live more fully in the reign of God when we put at the center of our lives the same things, the same concerns, the same people God does. How are we putting those at the margins at the center of our lives? 

The small mustard seed doesn’t just become the shrub or bush or tree or anything grander than a single seed, though, if it doesn’t get planted. For a mustard seed or any seed to become a plant, a bush, a tree, it has to be “utterly transformed.” (2) Scholar Amy-Jill Levine writes, ““What we see now is potential, but that potential needs to be actualized ... the seed has to be planted. Even small actions ... have the potential to produce great things.” (3) We also know this: We can’t plant a seed today and expect to find birds building nests in the tree tomorrow. (2) Something very small, insignificant, growing into something large, overwhelmingly significant - it’s very possible. But the seed must be planted, transformed, and given time to grow and develop. 

What gardening I can do these days is a little limited, not only by my impending move but also by my very shady yard at the parsonage. But I’ve been having fun this season growing some things inside. I’ve got celery and green onions I started from scraps, and my giant Christmas cactus along with a couple babies cacti I started from pieces that broke off the main plant, and a few other house plants. My mom got me some cosmos this year for my birthday, a flower I loved growing as a child. They came in one of those little kits you can get that contain seeds, soil, and a little pot all packaged together. And that made me remember that I had a similarly packaged set of tomato seeds she’d given me last year that I never planted. I wasn’t sure how long the seeds would be viable. Seeds can expire if they’re not stored properly, and I can’t say my tomato seeds were stored in any special way. But I figured it couldn’t hurt to try. At first, I didn’t think anything was going to come up. The cosmos were already a couple inches tall, and still nothing from my tomato seeds. But eventually, a few tiny seedlings began to emerge. I forget how much growth happens beneath the soil with some seeds before the first sign of life emerges on this side of things. My long-forgotten tomato seeds might yet bear fruit. But they needed to be planted, and they need to develop and grow, and need more than our fleeting investment if we want to eventually eat some delicious tomatoes.  

When Jesus is so frustrated with his disciples who can’t heal despite Jesus himself giving them the authority to do so, I don’t think Jesus is trying to tell them their faith amounts to nothing. I think he’s frustrated because he knows that even a little faith can have an overwhelming impact, but the disciples haven’t actualized or activated what they have. Their mustard seed of faith perhaps hadn’t yet been planted, and yet the disciples were still wondering why they had no plants growing in the spiritual garden. Can our little bits of faith - when planted, when activated, when nurtured, when given time to form roots - can our little seeds of faith grow into something that can move mountains and plant things in the sea? Maybe Jesus is exaggerating to get our attention. But Jesus tells us again and again that with God, nothing is impossible. Maybe Jesus means it. What’s a small act of faith you’ve seen that has had big results? What’s something that seemed insignificant that has had an overwhelming impact on your relationship with God? Or on your ability to share the good news? 

I think about the little country church I attended in Westernville with my family until I was in 6th grade. I don’t think my Sunday School teachers, helping me memorize Bible verses, realized they were giving me a foundation, and nurturing a curiosity about God that would one day lead me to seminary and pastoring a church. But they were faithful with the seeds God gave them, planting them with the conviction they’d grow. This week, we celebrated that 150 years ago, the cornerstone of this building - well, the other side of this building - was laid. I’m guessing even with the visions and hopes for the future the congregation had in 1870, they weren’t envisioning all the generations of people that would be shaped by the ministry of First UMC. But those folks were faithful to the call of God, trusting that what they built would be a tool for sharing the gospel. Do you have faith? Jesus thinks you might! Jesus thinks that even our mustard-seed-sized-faith, seemingly insignificant, becomes overwhelmingly significant when we offer it God to transform, to grow. Simple? Yes. Challenging? Definitely. Impossible? Not with God. “The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed that someone took and sowed in his field; it is the smallest of all the seeds, but when it has grown it is the greatest of shrubs and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and make nests in its branches.” Amen. 

1. Levine, Amy-Jill, Short Stories by Jesus, 170. 

2. Murray, John, “Parable of the Mustard Seed,” Eastern Mennonite University, Feb 20 215. https://emu.edu/now/podcast/category/chapel/parables/. Phrases reordered for clarity. 

3. Levine, 182. 

Sermon, "Planting Seeds: Jonah," Jonah 4

Sermon 5/10/20

Jonah 4

Planting Seeds: Jonah

Throughout this 50-day season of Easter, we’ve been talking about Planting Seeds. Even if it did snow this week, we’re still thinking about planting seeds and growing and new life and all that comes with spring and sun and warmer days. Resurrection and life. And so suddenly slipping into the book of Jonah might seem like a strange choice for this sermon series, but if you stick with me, I think you’ll see how Jonah’s story gives us an important piece of our journey of planting and growing. 

Many of you might be familiar with the book of Jonah because of its larger-than-life story of Jonah hanging out in the belly of a whale or at least some big fish for a few days. But let’s make sure we know the details of Jonah. Jonah is a prophet in Israel. We don’t know much about him at all. The Bible says he’s the son of Ammitai, and we read in the first two verses of Jonah chapter 1 that God has given Jonah a message to take to Nineveh, the capital city of Assyria, long-standing gentile enemies of Israel. And by verse three of that chapter, we know that Jonah is heading as fast and far as he can the opposite direction of Nineveh. A prophet, remember, wasn’t a fortune-teller, but a truth-teller. And God wants Jonah to cry out against the people on God’s behalf, tell them that God has seen their wicked ways. Jonah, apparently, does not want to do this, and so he gets on a boat to Tarshish. There’s been some debate over where exactly Tarshish was, but all of the possibilities have this in common: it was very far away in the opposite direction from where God had directed Jonah to go. In fact, the text describes it as “away from the presence of the Lord,” as if such a thing were possible. But that’s certainly where Jonah wishes he could go: beyond God’s reach. 

He finds out quickly, though, that he can’t escape God. Jonah gets on a ship that is immediately caught up in a storm of God’s crafting. The sailors try to figure out what to do, and discover Jonah’s disobedience is the cause of the storm. Jonah instructs them to throw him into the sea, since he knows he’s the troublemaker, and they comply, eager to save their lives. And Jonah is then swallowed up by a big fish which the text tells us “God provides.” The big fish is God’s way of rescuing Jonah. Jonah gives thanks to God, and after three days, Jonah gets spit back out of the big fish, and he heads, finally, to Nineveh. 

Once there, he walks across the city, shouting, “Forty days more, and Nineveh shall be overthrown!” If there was more to his message, we don’t get to hear it. But there was enough, apparently, because the people of Nineveh believe the message from God and begin to make many signs of repentance: they fast, they sit in ashes, and everyone, the king, the people, even animals put on sackcloth. The king declares, “All shall turn from their evil ways and from the violence that is in their hands. Who knows? God may relent and change course; God may turn from God’s fierce anger. so that we do not perish.” And indeed, God sees that they’ve repented so completely and immediately, and God relents, and brings no punishment on the people. It’s really astonishing all around: most prophets in the Bible seem to be preaching to an unhearing audience. They warn and warn and warn, but no one listens, and when God acts to bring about justice, the people are devastated. Normally, prophets and their messages are unwelcome and unheeded. But for once, as soon as the people hear the words from God through Jonah, they repent. (1) 

That brings us to our chapter for today. If you thought Jonah was going to be delighted that he’s turned out to be such an effective prophet, you’ll be sadly disappointed. Jonah prays to God with complete honesty: “God, this is exactly what I said was going to happen, exactly why I tried to run the other way instead of going to Nineveh. I know that you’re gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love. I know how often you relent from punishing. God, just let me die already. I’d rather die than live knowing that you let these people off the hook!” And Jonah, sulking, goes and sits down just outside of Nineveh to watch and see what happens, apparently hoping that God will go back to plan A and smite them all. 

As Jonah sits and sulks, God makes a plant, a bush, grow where Jonah is, all in one day, so that it will give Jonah shade in the sun. Jonah is pouting, but he’s happy about the bush. He continues to watch and wait. But the next day, God sends a worm that attacks the bush and between the worm and the hot sun and wind, the plant dies. Jonah is so hot and parched that he again complains to God, “It’s better for me to die than to live.” 

God says to Jonah, “Is it right for you to be upset about this plant, this bush?” In one translation that I like God asks, “Are you so deeply grieved about the plant?” (1) Jonah insists he is - “Angry enough[, grieving enough] to die,” in fact. You can hear the dramatic tone, can’t you? And God says: You care about this plant, this bush, so much, even though you didn’t grow it or work for it, and it existed for just a day. But I’m not supposed to care about a great city of more than 120,000 people and animals? And with that, abruptly, the book of Jonah comes to an end. Does Jonah see it God’s way after this exchange? Does he sit there pouting for longer? Does God use him as a prophet again in the future? We don’t know the answers to any of these questions. But we have plenty to reflect on and ask of ourselves. 

Why, do you think, is Jonah so upset that God relents and forgives the Ninehvites? Aren’t we supposed to be excited and relieved that God is gracious, merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love? Isn’t that a relief to us? What on earth would I do if God wasn’t gracious and loving? I’d be lost! Why is Jonah so upset by this? It helps us understand a bit if we think a little bit more about who the Ninehvites were and when the book of Jonah is written. Again, Nineveh was the capital of Assyria. And Assyria is the nation that eventually conquers and destroys Israel, setting off one of the most painful periods in Israel’s history. The events in the book of Jonah take place about 50 years before Assyria conquers Israel, but the book of Jonah isn’t written until after these events take place, after Israel is conquered, after Israel and Judah spend time in exile in Assyria and Babylon and finally are able to return home and rebuild. So, Assyria is responsible for the worst collective time the Israelites have as a people since they were slaves in Egypt. How well-liked do you think the Assyrians were by the readers of the book of Jonah? So, are we glad that God is gracious and loving? Of course we are! But when we remember that God is also gracious and loving to our very worst enemies, not just people we dislike but gracious and loving to those who have sought to hurt and destroy and devastate us? Well, maybe pouting and complaining doesn’t sound so dramatic after all. 

I’ve been thinking about loyalty, love, and enemies. I’ve told you before that if I want to look for God’s style of unconditional love modeled in the world, I look to my mother. My mom is great at unconditional love. I’m not saying my mom and I have never argued, but I can’t remember a single time when I’ve wondered, “Does mom really love me? Does mom still love me?” I know she does. I know there’s nothing I could do that would make her stop loving me. And I also know that if someone hurts one of her kids, you’re on my mom’s list. She might seem nice and sweet and gentle, and 95% of the time, she is. But if you hurt one of her kids? My mom has a great death stare. She might not be able to smite like God, but she can try! And I think we feel this way as a family: we’re very loyal to each other. We want to protect and defend our loved ones from “enemies.”  

And that’s what I think Jonah is upset about. Sure, Jonah doesn’t yet know that the Assyrians will be responsible for the destruction of Israel. But the nations were definitely already enemies. And Jonah probably speaks for the then-present-day hearers of the story of Jonah, who certainly would have felt like he did: God is showing mercy to our enemies? If God really loves us, how can God also love the people who hurt us? How can God forgive people who have devastated our lives? That’s the hard to swallow news of the book of Jonah: God really and truly loves our enemies, and it stinks! 

So, what can we do in response to this text other than sit with Jonah and lament that sometimes we don't like God’s gifts of love and grace as much as we think? Truly, friends, it is not an easy question to answer. I only know that at the end of the story, everyone has had a change of heart except for Jonah. God changed direction. The Ninehvites changed direction - king, people, and animals all. But Jonah has had no change of heart. Jonah is pretty entrenched in his sense of rightness, and because of that, he seems not only to begrudge his enemies from getting God’s love and grace, he also doesn’t seem able to absorb any of it for himself. What a shame, what a loss! 

  I think the heartache in Jonah comes, in part, from our expecting God to behave like us instead of seeking after how we can follow in the example of God, imitators of Jesus. As Don Schuessler said in our Bible Study this week, we want to think that we are right and that God is on our side. Jonah seems very certain about what justice would look like - the destruction of Nineveh. But what if, instead, we seek to be on God’s side? Our perspective as humans is always limited. We can’t always see the situation clearly. Our vision isn’t good enough. But God can see into hearts and minds. God’s vision is perfect. God’s understanding is beyond our imagining. And so while we’re sure of what is right and what would constitute justice for our enemies, we really don’t have the skills to make that call. After all, it is entirely possible that we are the enemy of someone else, that they are wondering how God can forgive and love us. We, too, are sinners. And perhaps someone can’t understand how God loves us still, relents against punishing us. Where would I be, though, without God’s grace and love? I would be utterly lost. God doesn’t want us to be lost. God seeks after us relentlessly - the Ninehvites, our enemies, Jonah fleeing to Tarshish, and you and me.    

I think as we experience resurrection and life, as we really experience being new creations in Christ, we learn to see more and more of what God sees. We learn to seek after God’s side, God’s vision, God’s understanding, even when, and maybe especially when  it crashes up against our own. God can change hearts. God changes even the hearts of our enemies. God changes even our hearts. God is loving, gracious, slow to anger, quick to forgive, abounding in enduring love. Sometimes we hear that as a challenge. Sometimes we hear that and grieve! But I promise, it is good news, for your enemies ... and for you! Maybe when it comes to loving our enemies, we’re just works in progress, with no easy answers. But when it comes to God loving and forgiving our enemies? Let’s start with trusting that God’s side is always the right one. Amen.  

1. Chan, Michael J., “Commentary on Jonah 3:10-4:11,” The Working Preaching, https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=2011.

2. Odell, Margaret, , “Commentary on Jonah 3:10-4:11,” The Working Preaching, https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=1015.

Sermon, "Planting Seeds: The Parable of the Wheat and the Weeds," Matthew 13:24-30

Sermon 5/3/20

Matthew 13:24-30

Planting Seeds: Wheat and Weeds

We’re back today in chapter 13 of the gospel of Matthew with another parable of Jesus as we continue our sermon series on planting seeds. Two weeks ago, we talked about the Parable of the Sower, and today we’re reading the Parable of the Wheat and the Weeds, or the Parable of the Wheat and the Tares. It’s still part of the same series of teaching from Jesus. He’d been first sitting outside the house where he’d been staying, by the lake, and eventually, because the crowds were getting so large, he started teaching from a boat put out just a bit from shore, to give him space and a better platform perhaps while the crowds listened from the beach. So while we hear and are studying these parables one by one, Jesus’s audience heard them all, tried to absorb them all in quick succession. 

Parables are a specific type of teaching tool of Jesus. The word parable literally means to bring one thing alongside something else. A parable brings one thing parallel with another so they can be compared. The idea is that by bringing a more familiar thing alongside a perhaps less familiar thing, you’ll learn something about the less familiar thing by your understanding of the more familiar thing. Jesus’ parables, as I mentioned, are almost always about the Kingdom of God, the kingdom of heaven, God’s reign, God’s way of things on earth and in eternity. Jesus wants us to know what things are like in the way that God operates. What is God’s reign, fully realized, come to fruition, like? Jesus explains using parables, bringing something that might seem beyond our understanding - God’s rule and reign and hoped-for way of things - alongside something his audience did understand very well: stories about agriculture, farming, everyday items and situations they had experience with. Of course, for us, for today’s hearers of Jesus’ parables, we don’t always know much about either thing Jesus is talking about! We’re trying to learn about the Kingdom of God, but we also have to learn about farming or agriculture or whatever other first-century practices Jesus mentions in his parable that don’t always translate directly into how we do things today thousands of years later. Perhaps we need a parable that uses Facebook or TikTok in comparison to the reign of God. But in the absence of that(!), we work together to understand.

Jesus’ parables about God’s reign also serve to highlight how God’s reign is markedly different than the reign and rule of the human rulers the people were used to. Jesus’ first-century audience was living under occupation of the Roman Empire. They were ruled by the emperor and agents of the emperor who generally looked on them with disdain. They were heavily taxed. Their religious practices were sometimes curtailed and oppressed. They were afraid. And even their own leaders were sometimes working in collaboration with the Roman government. Corruption and greed and violence were all around. When Jesus talks about the kingdom of God, then, it sounds a sharp contrast to the kingdom, the empire of Rome. When we hear the parables, that’s another thing we listen for: how does this paint a picture that suggests that God’s ways are markedly different than the ways of the Roman Empire, than the corrupt ways of power-hungry human leadership? The parables paint an alternative, longed-for vision of the way things can be when we let God’s rule guide us fully.  

In today’s text, Jesus says that God’s reign is like this: Someone sows good seed – wheat – in his field. But while everyone is asleep, an enemy comes and sows weeds with the wheat. When the plants start growing, and the weeds are discovered with the grain, the slaves of the sower seem shocked, and go to the sower saying, “Master, didn’t you sow good seed here? Why then are there weeds? Where did they come from?” The master replies that an enemy sowed the weeds. So the slaves offer to pull the weeds up. “No,” the master replies, “for in gathering the weeds you would uproot the wheat along with them.” Both wheat and weeds have to grow together until harvest time, when the wheat will be harvested by reapers, gathered into the barn, and the weeds will be bundled and burned.     

Like with the Parable of the Sower, Jesus offers an explanation later in the chapter, but today we’re using our own imagination to look at the parable in different ways. What do we wonder about when we hear this parable? I wonder, for example, about the enemy that comes and sows weeds in the night among the good seed planted by the sower. I’ve never thought, outside of reading this parable, about someone intentionally planting weeds. Weeds hardly seem to need the help, do they? I have a big planter outside my door at the parsonage. I got it. intending to use it to repot my giant Christmas Cactus, but I couldn’t manage it, so the planter sat, full of soil, outside with nothing in it. But it still didn’t take long for weeds to start growing in the planter, as various seeds were dropped into the soil by the wind over time. No special planting required for weeds to abound. It’s striking, then, in Jesus’ story that an enemy intentionally plants weeds among the wheat. 

We also might be surprised that the Master tells the slaves not to pull up the weeds. If you do any gardening, you probably know that gardening includes the seemingly endless task of weeding. After all, when we read the Parable of the Sower, we were reminded that weeds can choke the life out of good healthy plants. But if you weed your garden, your healthy plants have a better chance of thriving. It’s hard work, pulling weeds. I remember getting away with leaving most of the weeding to my grandfather in my childhood gardening days. But growing wheat is a little different than growing carrots and beans and tomatoes. There are a few kinds of weeds that are candidates for what Jesus means in this parable - they look so extremely similar to the wheat, and they grow in so closely intermingled with the wheat that it is hard to tell them apart or safely remove the weeds without simultaneously uprooting the good wheat at the same time. You have to wait until both plants are mature to separate them.   

Where are we in this parable? What roles can we try on for ourselves? Typically, the wheat and weeds are seen as the people of the world, and we want to find ourselves among the wheat, the healthy, maturing plant, a product of good seed, ready for the harvest. I certainly think that’s what God intends for us. I can tell you for sure that everything God created God called good. Go back and read Genesis 1. “And God saw that it was good” is the theme of creation. We are good seed. I believe that deeply. But even if we can play around with different roles we might take in the parable, I think sometimes we want to take all the roles at once, and make the parable a one-person show. Ok, maybe we want to play every part except the weeds. We want to be the good seed, and we want to be the slaves and the reapers, eager to identify the weeds, ready to pull it up, and even if we have to wait, ready to throw the weeds into the fire at the first opportunity. Perhaps you read this parable and quickly think of people who are “weeds” in your life, in the world. If I’m honest, I know I could make a list: people I’ve experienced as weeds. 

But if we’re wheat, we’re not also the Master, the sower. If we’re wheat, even if we’re sure who the weeds are, it is not our responsibility to do the weeding. That job belongs to the sower and the reapers, and we can’t be all the roles at once, try as we might. Years ago, I volunteered at the Matthew 25 Farm in Tully, a farm dedicated to feeding hungry people, serving the community. The day I volunteered, I was assigned to picking peas. The farmer told me that a group of students had been helping harvest the day before, and they’d been so overzealous in their harvest, that they uprooted several healthy plants when they carelessly picked the peas. Friends, even if we’re right about who is wheat and who is a weed, our attempts to weed seem to end up like the overeager harvesters at the Matthew 25 Farm. In our attempt to pull out weeds, we uproot healthy plants, and find delicate blossoms that could have become good plants to harvest withering without roots. If we’re the wheat, it is not our responsibility to figure out and pull out weeds. Sometimes we really want it to be our job. But if we’re wheat, we don’t have the perspective of the sower. We can’t see everything clearly. And we don’t need to. If we’re wheat, we’ve got plenty to do trying to grow and mature. 

Where are we in this parable? What if, sometimes, we’re the enemy, sowing weeds in the night? I think this is a hard question to ask of ourselves: am I responsible for sowing weeds? Since we are humans who sin and fall short of the glory of God, our honest answer has to be, “yes.” Sometimes, we’re sowing weeds in the garden around us. It’s really hard to take an unflinching look at our behaviors and actions and attitudes and confront our own sinfulness. It’s really hard to own up to the things we’ve done wrong. But take courage: God’s grace and forgiveness can’t be exhausted. God is so ready to hear our confession and help us sow good seed instead. I think this season in our life together is a time to be particularly attentive to how we might find ourselves sowing weeds. As these days of disruption to our “normal” wear on, I think the stress and strain makes us vulnerable to behaving in ways that don’t reflect the servant hearts God seeks to find in us. We’re stressed. We’re anxious and afraid. We get cranky and irritable. We start to snap at each other. We’re quick to blame and judge. We get a little desperate. We’re sad and unhappy and we start to find it easier to spread all those feelings than to wrestle through them. If you’re feeling any of these things, you’re not alone. I’ve felt them too. But I don’t want to sow weeds. I know you don’t either. If you find you’ve been sowing weeds, what can you do? Ask for help! Ask God. Ask a trusted friend. Ask a dear family member. Ask your pastor. Ask for help. And trust that God’s help, God’s love, God’s forgiveness, God’s promise of new life - God’s gifts are there, ready for you to receive.   

Where are we in this parable? What if, sometimes, we’re the sower? The focus of the sower in this parable is simply on the wheat. The sower sows good seed, makes sure it grows, and harvests it. There are weeds, yes, but that’s not the focus of the sower. The sower’s purpose is to plant, grow and harvest an abundant crop of good wheat. If we’re the sower, let’s make sure that’s our purpose too. Where can we plant good seed in the world? How can we cultivate it? What fruit are we producing? What’s the harvest? I encourage you, in the weeks ahead, to think about where you are and where you can plant some good seed in the world, and then act. If you get a chance, you should look into a movement called “guerrilla gardening.” (Guerrilla as in fighters, not as in monkeys and apes.) Guerrilla gardening, despite the name, is a peaceful movement of people engaging in secret planting projects. A while back I read about a group of folks who thought it was silly that their city was planting a bunch of ornamental trees that didn’t bear fruit when so many people were hungry. So they started secretly grafting branches of fruit trees onto the ornamental trees, and posting signs: “Free food.” (1) I love the creativity, the determination of the movement. How determined are we to sow seeds of goodness, to sow seeds that produce fruit? Where can we surprise the world with abundant life? How can we be sowers of the reign of God? 

The kingdom of heaven is like this: God sows good seed with love everywhere, all around. An enemy tries to work against God’s vision of abundant life. But despite the weeds, God’s good seed can’t be, won’t be stopped. The wheat can thrive in abundance, undeterred, until the Lord of the harvest gathers it in again. Thanks be to God. Amen.

1. One example is here:

https://www.treehugger.com/sustainable-agriculture/i-joined-guerilla-mission-turn-city-trees-fruit-trees.html

Sermon, "Planting Seeds: The Parable of the Sower," Matthew 13:1-9

Sermon 4/19/20

Matthew 13:1-9

Planting Seeds: The Sower

As is the case with many things, these days, preaching on Planting Seeds wasn’t my first plan for our post-Easter Sunday sermon series. In fact, I think it’s the third or fourth sermon series I had scheduled for this time slot, before feeling like I’d found the right fit for the right season. We celebrated Easter Sunday last week, but it’s still Easter. The season of Easter lasts for 50 days, representing the time between Jesus’ resurrection and between when we celebrate Pentecost, a day when the disciples received the gift of the Holy Spirit and were empowered for ministry by it. For 50 days, we celebrate Easter. In fact, as I’ve mentioned before, all Sundays are considered mini-Easters. We’re always people who live in the joy and knowledge that life can’t conquer death, and that new life is ours for the receiving. But in this season of Easter, resurrection and new life are our main focus. And I think that’s good news, that we get to experience both the abruptness that new life can mean sometimes - Jesus was dead and now he’s alive - and the slow way new life can sometimes work its way into our hearts. Sometimes bringing forth life takes time, doesn’t it? Reviving something from the brink of death isn’t always an instantaneous prospect. Resurrection sometimes takes time, and so this Easter season, we’re taking our time with resurrection. 

We’re focusing on planting seeds. There’s a lot of people trying out gardening right now - planting seedlings, looking to produce vegetables or herbs or flowers at home. Some of us have the time, now, that we don’t normally have. And I think many of us are drawn to the way planting seeds is an act of hope. Planting seeds means even when things are difficult now, even when we see people in pain, suffering, even when we are struggling, we believe there’s a future in which the seeds we plant will grow and produce and be ready for harvest. Planting seeds is a hopeful act, an act of resurrection and new life. I think it makes us feel like our time right now is not just useless. It’s not just a pause. This time is valuable. These days count, they matter. And maybe we’ll come out at the other side with an abundant harvest instead of overwhelmed by loss. 

And so, in this season of Easter, we’re looking at passages of scripture that talk about seeds and planting and new life. Today, we start with the parable of the sower. Whenever we read the parables of Jesus, it helps us understand them if we remember that they’re meant to tell us something about what the kingdom of God is like, about what God’s reign is like. One of the things Jesus tried to communicate repeatedly in his teaching was that the kingdom of God was at hand - God’s reign was here, on earth already, just as it was also eternal. When we live into the values and characteristics of God’s ways right here and right now on earth, we’re experiencing God’s kingdom, God’s reign already, as well as preparing our hearts and souls and minds for life everlasting with God. So, whenever we read a parable of Jesus, we can ask ourselves, “What does this tell us about what the kingdom of God is like, here on earth and in eternity?” 

There are actually two sections to this parable, the parable of the sower: the one where Jesus tells it to the gathered crowd, and then a bit later where Jesus gives an explanation just to the disciples. In the explanation, Jesus says that the seed is the word of God, and the various kinds of ground on which the seed falls are those who hear the word of God. But sometimes when we go straight to the “explanation” of this parable, we forget how flexible parables are. We forget to envision ourselves in many roles in the story. We forget how imaginative and playful parables are. So today, we’re focusing on the first part of the text. Jesus tells us that a sower went out to sow. And as he sowed, some seeds fell on the path where birds gobbled them up. And others fell on rocky ground, and without soil depth, they started to grow but never really got rooted, and they were scorched in the sun. And other seeds fell among the thorns, and were choked by the weeds. But some, some seeds fell on good soil, and brought forth grain, and they yielded 30, 60, 100 fold. Jesus concludes, “Let anyone with ear listen!” What do we hear? 

I want us to think first about the sower. What do we think about the sower’s actions? I’ve gardened off and on over the years, but my earliest gardening experiences were under the direction of my grandpa, who had a real gift for it. Grandpa always gave me a little corner of his huge garden to plant my own things. Now, I was the kid whose bean in a Dixie cup in school never grew – the one kid with the dud seed that left the teacher trying to come up with something nice to say about how I could share in caring for someone else's plant or something. But somehow, under my grandfather's care, my garden always bloomed. He taught me tricks of the trade – how to hang empty pie tins up to scare away birds, how to plant corn: "One for the blackbird, one for the crow, one for the soil and one to grow," as the rhyme goes. How to space my seeds and pull weeds, and use chicken wire fences for tendrils of pea plants to curl around. I can tell you what my grandfather never did: He never just threw seeds here there and everywhere and hoped for the best. He didn’t throw seeds on rocky soil, or among thorns, or in the middle of a path. That would have been wasteful and foolish. Sure, maybe a stray seed or two goes where you don’t want it, but nearly all of the seed goes carefully into good soil which you’ve taken time to prepare.

But, this sower is extravagant with the seed. Reckless. Do they even have a plan? I think we can interpret the sower as being either extravagant and wasteful, or extravagant and generous. Is the sower foolish? Or just reveling in the abundance of seed, ready to risk it, spread the seed far and wide, and see what happens? The text doesn’t tell us who the sower is, even in the explanation of the parable that comes later. So let’s try a couple of options. Perhaps God is the sower. If God is the sower, our experience of God lends us to understand the actions of the sower differently. If God is the sower, I’m more inclined to see God’s extravagance as generous than foolish, aren’t you? If the parable is telling us something about the nature of God, we see a sower who seems to have plenty of seed, and a sower who sows seed everywhere. God has an abundance to give - love that doesn’t run out, grace with unlimited supply, forgiveness to spare, good news that’s without end, an offer of salvation, wholeness that’s for everyone, that can reach into every nook and cranny of the earth. Of course if God is the sower, God doesn’t need to worry about where the seed falls - our God of abundance never runs out of God’s gifts, and they never cost God too much to share with us. God is reckless with generosity.

So what if we put ourselves in the place of the sower? If it is you and me who are spreading the seed, God’s word, the good news of Jesus' grace and love, the good news that God’s reign is right now, here on earth - what kind of sowers are we? Are we reckless and foolish? Are we extravagant risk-takers? Can we even get our heads around sowing in this way, or do we insist on counting out each seed and carefully placing it in the soil we already know is good? Truly, these are hard questions in these days when it is so easy to feel driven by scarcity instead of plenty. In days when suddenly you might find certain shelves empty in a grocery store that was once overflowing with options, when people are buying up anything and everything that someone mentions that might help us get through these challenging days, it’s maybe even harder than usual to imagine ourselves being so reckless with resources. It might be hard to imagine virtually throwing away seed by taking so little care for where it lands. 

And yet, just when we could be letting ourselves be ruled by fear, I am finding so many examples of people sowing seeds of hope in the same way God does - secure in the knowledge that that supply is limitless. I was talking this week with someone who has been working really hard to practice generosity in this season and to encourage generosity in others. And as she’s been trying to practice and encourage generosity, she’s been met with some resistance. Folks have suggested that perhaps some are taking advantage of the generosity. People might be getting help who don’t really need it. People are getting away with getting stuff they don’t really deserve. Sometimes I struggle with that too. I want to make sure people who need it most are getting what I have to share. I feel like that’s responsible stewardship of resources, some of which I have only in limited quantities. But I believe that God’s hope and aim for us is a life of generosity where we trust that we have enough to share. And if there are some resources we have in limited supply, there are others we have that are limitless. How extravagant are you with your love? How freely do you sow forgiveness? How much mercy can you give? How many times are you willing to share God’s love and the good news that Jesus brings? How many places will you share? With whom will you share? The kingdom of heaven, the reign of God is like a place where a sower sows knowing nothing ever runs out. If we want to see God’s reign embodied on earth, we sow like that, knowing there is enough of God and from God to share with everyone, everywhere. 

Once we have a picture of the character of the sower in mind, I find I can think about the seed and the soil with the same generous mindset. Jesus says that the seed is God’s word, God’s message to us, and the various places the seed lands are ways that we can receive God’s message. Obviously, we want to be good soil. There, God’s word, God’s message to us can take root, and grow, and be well-nourished, and produce magnificent results in our lives. But oh, sometimes my soul seems like a barren path, and sin gets in the way of responding to God as I’m called to. God’s message gets gobbled up by the other things I’ve given room in my heart, by the things I’ve let come first instead of God. Sometimes our souls are rocky ground, and when we’re facing struggles and challenges, when we’re in pain or suffering, we find it hard to hold on to God’s word, hard to trust, hard to hope, and our little bit of faith fades away. Even the Twelve disciples experienced that, falling away when Jesus was tried and crucified. Sometimes my soul is a thorny place, and tending to the “cares of the world” outweighs the attention I give to the ways of God, and so when I look for harvest, I find nothing. But when the soil of my soul is good - God can do amazing things in my life, in my heart, in the world when we receive God’s message and let it take root in our hearts.   

Jesus frequently repeats either verbatim or in essence the words with which he closes the telling of this parable: 30, 60, 100 fold results. His numbers sound extreme and grandiose. But they’re meant to. The kingdom of God, God’s reign on earth? What happens when we let God’s ways be our ways on earth? The results are more astonishing than we can possibly imagine. We get so much bang for our buck. The results are exponential. The return on investment is such that no savvy person should pass by the opportunity. In modern-day terms, the kingdom of God works like a meme you post on facebook that goes viral, shared over and over and over, reaching well-beyond your circle of friends. This is what God can do when we receive all that God offers to us and let it take root.   

We can help this happen by tending our soil as best we can. What are the practices you can keep that help create a spiritual soil that is ready for what God is planting? I encourage you to spend some time this week answering that question. Journal about it. Pray about it. If you’re watching live, you could post your ideas right now. What are the practices you can keep that help create a spiritual soil that is ready for what God is planting? But we can also help each other tend the soil. If God is the sower, then maybe we can be God’s helpers, helping to tend the garden. And maybe sometimes I can’t remove the rocks from my own life, because it seems to hopeless. But you could remove a rock for me. Maybe sometimes you can’t seem to pull out the weeds that are taking over your life, but I can help you. Together, we can care for God’s garden. 

A sower went out to sow, and the seed - it went everywhere. And the garden grew, and grew, and grew. Amen.