The Parable of the Soil, the Seed, and the Sower: A Sermon for the 7th Week After Pentecost

Jesus loves to teach through story, but, if you ask me, none of his stories are straight forward. They are interpreted by the listener through their perspective and often different listeners gain different lessons. The parable of the sower is no exception.

 

When hearing the parable of the sower, do you see yourself as the soil, the seed, or the sower?

Scattering seed was (and in some places still is) a relatively efficient way to plant a large field of grain. The procedure described in the parable is faithful to the manner in which a Palestinian farmer would have gone about the work. A sower goes out to sow, scattering the seed wildly, not in neat little rows like how most people try to plant their garden.

 

In Palestine, the grain was harvested in June, and the field was left until the sowing time of November or December. The field might be plowed after the harvest, but it was not plowed again before the new crop was sowed. So, the sower was walking across stubble that had grown in the field after the last harvest. The farmer would throw the seeds across the ground, trying to cover as much area as possible. Then it was plowed quickly so that the birds did not eat the majority of the seed.

 

It makes sense then that some seed would fall on the walking path that would later be plowed, some eaten by the birds, some into the thistle bushes, and some onto hidden limestone in the soil.

The seed on the limestone would grow quickly but burn in the sun. The seed in the thistle bushes would be hidden from the sun and not grow at all. It could be quite discouraging for the farmer, but the seed that fell into the good soil would grow plentifully.

 

Planting is only part of the job. We cannot control the sunshine or the rain or see what is going on beneath the earth. But we trust that what we have planted will grow, bloom, and bring forth a harvest.

 

Are we the sower or the seeds? Are we planting or being planted?

 

There is a third angle at which we can view this parable – that we are neither the seed nor the sower, but instead we are the soil.

 

As every gardener knows, it’s all about the soil. Without good soil, worked with compost, seeds cannot flourish. The seed that lands where the soil has become hardened from being repeatedly walked on simply sits on the surface, waiting to become food for the birds. The seed that falls on rocky soil has difficulty taking root because the soil inhibits the growth of roots, necessary for plants to access the nutrients in the soil. The seed that falls on ground covered in thorns must compete with already well-established, invasive plants and stands little chance. But the seed that falls on the soil that has been prepared, turned over and loosened until it is fine, replenished with nutrients from the decaying matter of leaves, thrives.

 

Rather than being about the planter of the word (as the sower), or the word itself (as the seed), perhaps the parable is about the soil, as the hearers of God’s word?

 

Soil, like human beings, is shaped by its environment. So, if soil is walked on over and over again, beaten down so that it becomes packed hard, it is no longer fit for the planting of seeds. We see this in the human community too. People who have been walked on over, and over, and over again often develop a hardened exterior to protect themselves.

 

Rocky soil, says Jesus, describes those who lack the staying power to deal with rocky ground. When the going gets rough, they go into retreat.

 

The soil filled with thorns easily translates into our overcrowded lives; there is no room in an already overplanted plot for anything more, even with double-digging the beds.

 

Good soil takes years to cultivate. It must be fed, nurtured by the remains of plants that have come and gone. It must be worked and reworked so that it becomes supple, but not worked so hard that its structure is broken down. And it must be replenished, as seeds grow and draw on its nutrients. Good soil can develop in nature, as years of leaves fall and dissolve into the earth. Good soil can also be the work of gardeners, who tend the soil as carefully as they tend the plants.

 

While we set about cultivating good soil, we are not without hope. It is true that seeds landing on hard or rocky ground stand less of a chance of gaining root and thriving, but it does, sometimes, happen.

 

So, it is with God’s Word, which we are to scatter wildly, telling people of the love and forgiveness that only comes from God. God directs the Word, opening hardened hearts to hear and drawing people near. God’s Word carries out the purposes God desires. It never returns empty. Just as the Spirit of God moved over the earth at Creation, so the Spirit of God continues to move in our lives, creating new life through God’s amazing Word of hope.

 

There are remarkable pictures of trees growing out of rocks and flowers that push up through the pavement. These tenacious plants offer signs that the word of God will continue to find a way to grow even on the days when we feel beaten down, or overcome by thorns, or at our rockiest.

Where might God be calling you to scatter seeds of love wildly today?

 

What does it mean to be good soil, prepared to receive the word of God?

 

How do we assess what kind of shape our soil is in?

 

What would we need to do for the seed to be able to take root in our bodies and souls?

 

How will we know if this is happening?

 

And how might we nurture good soil in those around us?

 

What a formidable responsibility on behalf of those waiting to hear God’s word! But we do not sow seed alone and we are not the only yard of soil in the ground.

 

Other disciples go with us sharing their unique gifts. The Holy Spirit empowers us to do God’s will and promises that the word of God we share will not return empty. This is the magnificent power and grace of God who produces a crop a hundred times more than what we expect.

 

So, are you the soil, the seed, or the sower?

 

Perhaps we are a little bit of all three.

 

Amen.