I spent the summers of my late teens and early twenties working for a large farming operation. My particular division was crop production, where we produced wheat, barley, alfalfa, soybean, hay, and, of course, corn. There were times (like harvest) when it was really quite exciting; but in reality most of my summers were spent preparing soil for planting, which meant picking rocks; hours and hours of picking rocks, walking through acres and acres of freshly plowed fields. In an area famous for its limestone quarries, you can imagine just how many rocks a freshly plowed field can produce. With all the modern technology available today for field preparation (tractors, plows, discs), guess what? Rocks still have to be picked up by hand!
The parable before us today (Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23) is typically known as the “Parable of the Sower.” Yet perhaps it would be more appropriate to call it the “Parable of the Soils,” because what is really interesting about this story are the various conditions of each of the soils.
The first soil we encounter is the soil of a beaten-down path, the kind one can still imagine surrounding crop fields even today. The soil is hardened, not open to life. You can well imagine a sower casting seed into a field by hand (as was common in ancient times), and some happens to fall onto the pathway beside it. Obviously it does not provide a nurturing environment for seed. Yet even this kind of soil has its usefulness: it's good for walking on!
The second soil in our parable is the “rocky ground.” For obvious reasons, this is my favorite. Back in my rock-picking days, it was quite easy to see which parts of a field were picked properly. As soon as the seed-corn germinated, the seed in rocky ground sprang up quickly because rocks hold moisture, especially after a good rain. But over time the parts of a field that are rocky tend to be sparse, while the clean parts of a field flourish and produce more corn. This is because the moisture held by rocks quickly evaporates when the sun beats down on the soil causing the newly germinated plants to wither and die.
Our third soil reminds me of many an English countryside. Those who have ever traveled in England will surely remember the countless hedgerows that separate pastures and fields, marking off ancient boundary lines and providing barriers for pastoral animals like sheep and cattle. Obviously, any seed corn that would fall into a hedgerow, though protected from the sun’s menacing heat and provided with plenty of moisture, would be robbed of the nutrients that it needed to grow to maturity, having to compete with the thorns and thickets that make up hedgerows.
As Jesus explains to his disciples, each of these three soils represents a common response to the good news of the kingdom that the disciples would experience as they went out to sow the message of their Lord. We can readily see this truth for ourselves. Many are they who respond to the Gospel with the indifference of a well-trodden path that has just been seeded with corn. Even before the soil of their hearts has a chance to respond, "Satan" comes to snatch it away, never knowing the better. Then there are those who hear the Word, respond with the excitement of newfound discovery, only to have their faith wither and die because there is no depth in their experience. More frighteningly are those whose response is represented by the hedgerow. Their faith grows yet never comes to maturity as the strangling concerns of their lives rob them of essential nutrients.
But, my friends, there is a fourth soil – the good soil. And what is it that makes it good? Is it that the soil is any better than the other? Is there some special quality about it? Is it endowed with the principle of life while the other soils are not? Is there something supernatural in it, perhaps? No, any farmer (ancient or modern) can tell you that the difference between good soil and bad soil is not necessarily in what the soil is made of, but rather in how it is prepared. To produce a crop of a hundredfold, of sixty-fold or of thirty-fold takes much soil preparation. Back in my farming days, we had to fertilize, plow, pick rocks, disc, pick more rocks, rake, and pick even more rocks before we had a field of good soil.
It takes a lot of hard work to prepare a field for seed; it takes a lot of hard work to prepare a heart for the Gospel. Many of you know this from experience as no doubt you have friends and family members within whose hearts you have been picking rocks for years. And you know this corporately as parish as well. Good Shepherd has been working the ground of this community for many years, and has seen many fruitful harvests.
Yet even despite our best efforts, sometimes it seems that others come into the fields we've been working on for many years and proceed to tread them underfoot. Other times, it's as if the soil itself produces a fresh crop of rocks that need to be picked. And thorns and thistles are always looking for the right opportunity to invade a field to rob the rightful seed of its essential nutrients. But don't be disheartened. A farmer's work is never done. Each year we must continue to work the fields, pick the rocks, trim the hedgerows, and prepare the soil. Remember: the life is in the seed, not the soil. And every farmer knows that there really is no such thing as bad soil; just poor preparation.
Hey Sara! The comments are working now.
ReplyDelete