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Proper 10

Matthew 13
That same day Jesus went out of the house and sat by the lake. 2 Such large crowds gathered around him that he got into a boat and sat in it, while all the people stood on the shore. 3 Then he told them many things in parables, saying: “A farmer went out to sow his seed. 4 As he was scattering the seed, some fell along the path, and the birds came and ate it up. 5 Some fell on rocky places, where it did not have much soil. It sprang up quickly, because the soil was shallow. 6 But when the sun came up, the plants were scorched, and they withered because they had no root. 7 Other seed fell among thorns, which grew up and choked the plants. 8 Still other seed fell on good soil, where it produced a crop—a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown. 9 Whoever has ears, let them hear.”


The great Benjamin Disraeli once said “Never complain, never explain.”

The equally great Agnes MacPhail said, “Never apologize. Never explain. Just get the thing done, and let them howl.”

And Mark Twain (or was it Samuel Clemens) said, "The more you explain it, the more I don’t understand it."

Clearly there is some issue with explaining yourself, and explaining things generally. Disraeli and MacPhail, both politicians, seem to be talking about power. In the political realm, explaining yourself can be seen as weakness—something your opponents will exploit.

The Twain quote ("The more you explain it, the more I don’t understand it”) is about clarity, and the extent to which lengthy explanations may be a sign that you weren't being clear in the first place. Or people couldn’t understand. Or both.

As writing tips go, it’s a good one. Unless you are being paid by the word (like Charles Dickens) you should try brevity and simplicity over the opposite. Taken another way, there is the possibility that an explanation will confuse the matter, or even distort the original meaning. And today, we have a case in point:

“Listen then to what the parable of the sower means: 19 When anyone hears the message about the kingdom and does not understand it, the evil one comes and snatches away what was sown in their heart. This is the seed sown along the path. 20 The seed falling on rocky ground refers to someone who hears the word and at once receives it with joy. 21 But since they have no root, they last only a short time. When trouble or persecution comes because of the word, they quickly fall away. 22 The seed falling among the thorns refers to someone who hears the word, but the worries of this life and the deceitfulness of wealth choke the word, making it unfruitful. 23 But the seed falling on good soil refers to someone who hears the word and understands it. This is the one who produces a crop, yielding a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown.”

This is the second half of today’s reading, Jesus’ interpretation of his own parable, explained for whoever has ears. The problem with the passage—and the reason I didn’t share it earlier—is that the follow-up has the effect of narrowing the ways we interpret this passage, closing off other ways of seeing. I’m not saying Jesus didn’t say it—only that there are problems with the interpretation that should give us pause. Within the liberal tradition we believe that context is important and that scripture judges scripture, two ideas I want to turn to now.

The first part of the context is Jesus own hesitation to offer explanations. In this sense, he was closer to Disraeli and MacPhail, especially MacPhail. He was a “get things done guy,” more than willing to act and then let them howl. Or rather, more than willing to share a seemingly oblique parable and let the audience sort it out.

In fact, only three of his many parables are given with explanations: today’s seed parable, the parable of the weeds, and the parable in defilement. All the others, including the biggies (prodigal son, workers in the vineyard) are offered without explanation.

The second part of the context is future persecution. It will cast a long shadow, even over the work of the later Gospel writers Matthew, Luke and John. The seed that falls on the path has no root, and so when “trouble or persecution comes because of the word, they quickly fall away.” That’s a lesson for fifty years later, and not for the day Jesus sat in his boat and shared the parable.

So then there is the idea that scripture judges scripture, that what we know about Jesus and his way can be the template we use to assess other parts of the story, even words that are attributed to Jesus. How does this work?

The people described in the explanation section first fail to understand, then fail in the face of trouble, then are consumed by the worries of this life. So who does this sound like? Who else was slow to understand, or fled in the face of trouble, or consumed by worry?

His disciples come to mind. Time and time again Jesus expresses frustration with the twelve, saying “O ye of little faith” and praising those unlike Thomas, those who don’t need to see his hands and his side. And at the end—as Matthew says so clearly—”all the disciples deserted him and fled.” Even the great Peter, the rock, would deny him three times. And worry? These are the ones who worry about the seats in glory, and who will be at the right hand of Jesus. They are consumed with worry, even in the storm with Jesus in the same boat.

So having gathered twelve imperfect people to him, and entrusted the future of this movement to them, how can Jesus condemn everyone who shows the same faults when seeds are being scattered? I would argue he can’t, and won’t since the church would be empty if we excluded everyone who is slow to understand, or flees in the face of trouble, or is consumed by worry. Yes, there are “good soil people” who hear and understand every time, but they are the saints of the church, and then there are the rest of us.

So let’s try another approach, listening to the parable again (and not the explanation), and focus your attention on the sower and not the soil:

“A farmer went out to sow his seed. 4 As he was scattering the seed, some fell along the path, and the birds came and ate it up. 5 Some fell on rocky places, where it did not have much soil. It sprang up quickly, because the soil was shallow. 6 But when the sun came up, the plants were scorched, and they withered because they had no root. 7 Other seed fell among thorns, which grew up and choked the plants. 8 Still other seed fell on good soil, where it produced a crop—a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown. 9 Whoever has ears, let them hear.”

Scattered and fell, scattered and fell. Our garden is filled with perennials, so there is very little sowing of seeds. But if we did, I expect it wouldn’t be a case of scattering and falling, more poking the earth and planting. Seeds are precious, and not something to be scattered about. So what if the parable is about the act of sowing, and the care we take as we share the word?

Case in point: the twelve, for all their faults, were carefully selected to perpetuate the act of sowing, to take this message of the kingdom of God out to whatever good soil they could find. They were trained and provisioned—told what to say and what to bring. The message was a simple one and the list of items needed was short. And the recurring theme, the advice that appears again and again is “shake the dust off your feet.”

In some ways, this sounds harsh to our ears, too judgmental for people who love second chances. But for Jesus, and the disciples who set this movement in motion, it was about stewardship of resources. When your message is welcomed, stay and share. When you meet a hostile crowd, leave town, and literally ‘shake the dust’ of that town off your feet. Find better soil.

Summer is not just peak growing season, it’s also peak travel and meet new people season. Routines are disrupted, invitations extended, and new places explored, even if it’s just the other side of town. Maybe you’ll find yourself on that long bus/train/plane ride sitting beside a stranger. Maybe you’ll meet some distant relation you never knew you had.

And when we get into longer conversations, this place may come up. I find that people are generally open to hearing about church, unless they’re not. Occasionally I will meet the person who’s openly hostile, or find the whole thing ridiculous. So we change topics, or I express regret for their experience. So ‘shaking the dust’ isn’t rude as the topic moves on, it’s just being polite.

But for the people who are open, who genuinely want to know more, we have discovered the good soil for sharing our story. And maybe they will simply come away with a better impression of the church and what we do. Or maybe we will act as a counter-narrative to all the negative (and often justified) stories in the media. Or sometimes a conversation will produce a crop—a hundred, sixty, of thirty times what was sown.

A life of faith begins when someone opens the door, literally or figuratively, and shares a message of the kingdom. This can happen through words or actions, intentional or unintentional, because the Spirit will blow where it wills. And our task, as sowers and disciples, is to look for good soil, the people seeking new life. The hard work belongs to God, the work of turning hearts to prayer. We can make the invitation, but God does the work.

We pray, then, for good soil and the opportunity to share a vision of God’s kingdom, of new life in Christ, and the movement of the Spirit, now and always. Amen.

posted by michael jacob kooiman @ 4:50 AM