Sermon Pentecost 6

7/12/20

(Genesis 25:19-34; Ps. 119:105-112; Romans 8:1-11; Matthew 13:1-9. 18-23)

            I think the vast majority of people who don’t go to church think they pretty much know already what it is that we do in here and they just don’t buy it.  (And if what we do in here were in fact what they think it is, I doubt any of us would buy it either.)  One friend, whom I’ve known for many years and who’s smart and lives a life of service to others, once earnestly put it to me this way: she said, “Jack, how could you possibly subscribe to a reward and punishment system of thinking?” 

            Well, of course I said I don’t, that’s not what we do.  But the painful truth is that for much of the church, for much of its history, that has been the dominant mindset: rules-based, looking to a specific reward at the end of life.  This is a distortion of what Jesus preached – as someone once put it, Christianity is not an exit strategy for this world – and I think it stems in large part from a simple misunderstanding of something fundamental to the Christian gospel.

            From the beginning of his ministry to the end, Jesus preached essentially one sermon, in many different ways, by word and example: that the kingdom of heaven has “come near”; is “at hand”.  (Matthew uses the term “kingdom of heaven”; other gospels call it the “kingdom of God”; it’s the same thing.)  In Matthew’s gospel the heart of Jesus’ teaching about the kingdom of heaven, mostly by means of parables, is in chapter 13, which today’s gospel reading is from, and which in this lectionary cycle we will hear over the next two weeks.   

              Here’s the misunderstanding.  When Jesus talks about the kingdom of heaven, he’s not talking about the place where we go after we die if we’ve been good, and follow the rules.  No.  Jesus is talking about the life of God that is here on earth and that is available to us, a life of joy and peace and justice, and true communion with each other, which God wants us to have.  This life that God offers us is the only true life – which constantly creates new life, which is in fact eternal – and which most of the time we’re just too stupidly self-absorbed to be aware of.  

            Jesus begins this teaching on the kingdom of heaven with what we heard today, the parable of the sower.   That’s how it’s commonly referred to, but in fact in the parable Jesus barely mentions the sower at all: his focus is on the seed, and the ground that is to receive it, the ground which the seed needs to take root and grow in.  The story Jesus wants to get across is the new life that is constantly being offered the Holy Spirit.   

            Now, in this parable it sounds as though Jesus is talking about four distinct kinds of people who hear the word, kinds of people for whom he is preparing his disciples, people they will encounter as they go out and preach the gospel themselves.  The first three of these are plainly negative examples, the ground that won’t grow the seed, and Jesus appears to be warning the disciples about these people – you’re going to be running across these folks, but don’t be discouraged, just be ready.

            And then the final example is the positive one, the good soil, in which the seed can take root and bear fruit: the one who truly hears and understands the word, so the word can bring about new life in that person: new life that bears fruit – that creates new life itself – a hundredfold, sixtyfold, thirtyfold.  So this is a kind of person, apparently, the disciples can look forward to.

            But I think Jesus is doing something more than all that, in this teaching.  Again, it seems to us that Jesus is talking about the people his disciples will encounter in their ministry, and we will encounter in our lives as Christians: those people, out there.  And that understanding is partially correct.  But I think, in each of these metaphors, Jesus is also talking to the disciples, and to us, about what we need to be aware of , as we prepare ourselves to receive the word.    

            He first speaks of the path: some seeds fall on the path, and they just sit there, and the birds come and pick them off.  This is the metaphor for those who hear the word but don’t understand it, it makes no impression on them, it doesn’t sink in.   A path is a well-trodden way, it’s beaten smooth and hard.  It’s where we know others have been before; it’s where we have been before, and we know where it’s going to take us.  So we don’t have to think about where we are, and where we’re going.  So we don’t think about it.  So we deaden our capacity to be surprised.  We blunt our ability to wonder.  We hedge against the possibility that we might experience  anything new, that we might allow the Holy Spirit really to work in us.  It’s easy, on the path, just to trudge along, oblivious to the new things that are happening right where we are.   In this way we may hear the word, but we don’t understand it; we don’t hear it as the Word, we are numb to its radical invitation.   

            Jesus speaks then of the seed sown on rocky ground, which has only a thin layer of soil, so the plant can’t grow roots. This is the metaphor for the one who hears the word and, Jesus tells us, “immediately receives it with joy” – which is not the same thing as understanding it – but who, just as immediately, withers away when trouble or persecution occurs.

            Roots: the means by which a plant gets sustenance, what it needs to keep it alive and growing.  And roots are underground, so we don’t see them.  This stands for the growth in faith that we are not conscious of, growth which occurs as we cultivate good spiritual practices.  And I’m not just talking about prayer, reading Scripture, the things we do in church.  I’m talking about living the Golden Rule, about being thankful in all circumstances, about letting all we do be done in love.  In trying to live our lives this way we create room for the Holy Spirit to do its work, under our radar.  Jesus knows that trouble is going to occur, our faith is going to be challenged, that’s inevitable, given the broken world we live in, the gulf between ourselves and God. When those times come, the root system is there to give us stability – to keep us in place – and to continue feeding us, just as it always has.   Growing those roots needs continual attention.

            Jesus identifies the seed sown among thorns as the metaphor for the one who hears the word, but it’s choked out by “the cares of the world and the lure of wealth.”  Well, this certainly seems like familiar territory, we’re all well rehearsed in the danger of greed, and so we check it off.

            But think about the cares of the world that are justified, the cares with which we rightly and properly concern ourselves: to provide for ourselves and our families, to care for our children and teach them about what’s important in life, to do well in school, to do a good job, to be honorable and conscientious in our occupations, to do proper honor to the gifts that God gives us.  These are all cares of the world that we should be attending to.

            But they are truly and rightly done only in the awareness of the kingdom of heaven, only as the fruit of the Holy Spirit. It’s easy – I do it all the time – to allow the cares of the world to fill up all our time and attention, to allow them to choke out the Word.  We lose the connection between what we do and how it is that we are truly able to do it. If we allow the cares of the world to crowd out the Spirit, then we can’t attend to those cares with the clarity, and energy, and joy, that they need, and that God intends.  This is the kingdom of heaven: the true source of our life and strength.

            So Jesus is not just talking about them, out there: he’s talking about all of us.   Which means that he’s also including us in the last example: the one who hears and understands and bears fruit, and yields.  And notice the way he puts it: yields in one case a hundredfold, in another sixty, and in another thirty.  That’s the reverse of the progression we’d expect, from little to great. Because for God, it’s not about quantity: the important thing is how each of us responds truthfully to God’s presence among us.  That’s providing good ground for the seed; which takes root and grows and bears fruit, infinitely more than we can ask or imagine.  That’s the kingdom of heaven.  Thanks be to God.