Scatter
Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23
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Not long before our nation declared its independence from the British crown, a baby was born to Nathaniel and Elizabeth Chapman of Leominster, Massachusetts, their second. They named him John. By the time John Chapman died some seventy years later in Ft. Wayne, Indiana, most people knew him only by the name that accompanied his legend. They called him, “Johnny Appleseed.” Stories abound of him traveling far and wide to populate the frontiers of Ohio, Illinois and Indiana with apple trees. Growing up, I can remember hearing those stories about him randomly distributing apple seeds everywhere he went. Whenever I hear this parable that Jesus told, about a sower going out to sow some seeds, I think of Johnny Appleseed; because the two appear to have the same approach to their work. After a few minutes of research on the internet, however, I discovered that there is a far distance between the legend that is “Johnny Appleseed,” and the actual horticultural legacy of John Chapman. It is true that he spent his life traveling around with a particular interest in the planting of apple trees. But he didn’t do that by randomly scattering seeds. No, what he did was establish nurseries where apple trees could be cultivated and then planted. He did that because everyone knows that if you want something to grow, you have to pay attention to where you plant your seed. That’s certainly what it sounds like Jesus is telling the crowds as they listen to his teaching about the Kingdom of Heaven- the realm of God’s active presence at work in the world and what it looks like. That’s the thing that Jesus teaches us to pray for; for the coming of that kingdom on earth, as it is in heaven. Would you know it if you saw it? Just what does that mean? How does that work?
To be honest it can sound like a pretty abstract idea, which I suppose is why it’s easily misunderstood as code for afterlife, instead of this life; later, instead the urgency of now. So, Jesus tells a series of stories, grounded in the here and now, using the familiar stuff of existence: seeds, and weeds, and yeast, treasure, pearls, and fish. He lays his hands on the things we know in order to point to the ways in which God’s heaven is breaking through, how God’s will gets done on earth. As the crowds gather, Jesus climbs into a boat and starts with the parable that we heard this morning about a sower who goes out to sow seed. He’s not too careful, this sower. Some of the seed gets eaten by birds before it even gets a chance to do its thing. Some of it springs up quickly enough, and then withers just as quickly because the roots are pretty shallow. Some of it gets choked out by the competition. And some of it finds good soil, producing impressive results. Now, our reading skips over something fairly critical to this whole parable-fest of Jesus, because like everyone else, the people who have been following Jesus can’t understand why he doesn’t just give it to them straight. What don’t you just tell people what’s what, they ask, instead of beating around the bush? Can’t you use more concise language?
Not long ago I was reading about an adaptation of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s classic novel, The Great Gatsby. Some would say it is THE great American novel. The particular adaptation that I read about is one re-written for intermediate readers. The original is not too terribly long, only about 182 pages. This re-written version shaves that down to a slim 67 pages, and rescues readers from having to work through the more difficult language of the book. Of course, it also completely eviscerates anything about the work that makes it worth reading. As the late Roger Ebert observed about this shortened version, “Fitzgerald’s novel is not about a story. It is about how the story is told.” Jesus pretty much says the same to his disciples when they press him about his parables. There’s nothing to boil down here. These stories aren’t really about farming or fishing at all. They’re about how God’s story unfolds right in front of us, if we have the eyes to see it. Only that isn’t something anyone is likely to see looking at it straight on. God’s story is more often one that you catch a glimpse of out of the corner of your eye, when your attention is fixed on something else- like farming, or fishing. Things get a little complicated, then, when Jesus caves and give them an explanation about this parable’s meaning.
The seed is like the good news, he says, about how God’s Kingdom is right here among us. Sometimes people can’t understand that because the news lands in a place where it’s easy for evil to snatch it away. Look around. The world is a pretty horrific place. Natural and unnatural disasters take place all the time. They destroy lives. Pandemics, and police violence. Wildfires and floods. Addiction, isolation, and injustice that seems baked into the mix. The simple fact of evil can be enough to snatch away our capacity to grasp the idea that God is present and at work in the world. Really!? Because it doesn’t always look like it.
Then there are those who hear the news and seem to get it right away. They are just so enthusiastic about the whole thing, thank you, Jesus! If you’ve ever experienced, or been around someone like that, you know how overwhelming it can be. Of course, it’s hard to sustain that kind of enthusiasm. It can be like an infatuation. The feeling is almost like a high. Over time it begins to lose its effect. The bloom is off the rose. Just about the time that the giddiness goes way, the heat of a bad day, or a bad week, or a really bad year comes along and kills whatever faith a person might have had.
Some people hear the good news and it begins to grow in their lives, but there are other things growing there as well; things that compete for their time, attention, and loyalty. It can be hard to care what God is doing in the world when you are more interested in how the market is doing, or where you team is in the standings, or what’s on sale at the mall. Funny how this pandemic has taken some of those distractions away, only to replace them with others about re-openings and rates of infection. It can be hard to understand what difference any of this God stuff makes when there are bills to pay and you’re not sure where the money is going to come from.
Finally, there are those who get. It germinates and takes root in their lives and bears all kinds of fruit; more than they ever could have imagined. As we listen to Jesus’ explanation, our wheels start spinning. Which one am I, we ask? There are four options, leaving only a one in four chance that we’re in the right category. Birds, rocks, thorns- they’re everywhere. How do we cultivate good soil, the kind that will bear much fruit? That’s generally what folks take away from this parable; all the while forgetting that Jesus isn’t telling a story about soil- he’s telling us about a sower.
A sower, who it has to be said, sounds like the absolute worst sower in the world because he just seems to waste seed. I once talked to a farmer in Iowa about this parable. He started by pointing out that over the long haul of history wealth has generally been measured in terms of two constant commodities: gold, and grain (most specifically, wheat). While gold is a shiny, precious metal, you can’t make bread out of it. You might be able to feed your family with it, if you can find someone who will take your gold in exchange for food- but you can’t eat it. Because grain is so valuable, nothing is more valuable than the seed that gives you grain. As that same farmer told me- seed is everything. Good seed can be the difference between living and starving. He then went on to talk about the world’s seed banks, safe houses in remote locations that hold hundreds of sample seeds in case of some catastrophic global event. Because seed is so valuable, modern farm technology goes to great lengths to get the most out of it. Computerized combines are able to do soil analysis so that farmers can adjust the seed population in their fields to match the soil profile. The chemical process of germination requires very specific conditions, and good seed is far too valuable to waste.
So, a sower who just goes out and throws seed anywhere and everywhere, regardless of the conditions where it lands, regardless of the soil profile, sounds like a fool. Or God. Which may just be what Jesus wants us to glimpse out of the corner of our eye, while we’re worrying about what our own soil profile looks like. We may be worrying about that, but the sower sure isn’t. The sower is simply casting that seed wherever it might fall. Because the truth is that there isn’t a person alive that is one kind of anything. Things change. Conditions on the ground change. People can change. This isn’t a one-time thing. One day the evil in this world may get the better of you, the next you might be on fire for God only to have that fire extinguished at the first sign of trouble, the next the stress, worry and anxiety of the world, your job situation, your family, or your health may be enough to choke the faith right out of you. And that’s okay. It really is okay, because the sower is out there scattering great handfuls of seed, each one a unit of epic smallness that has the potential to become something abundantly fruitful. The sower isn’t stressing about the condition of the field, or being stingy about where the seed goes. Eventually- eventually some of that seed is going to find a patch of good soil. Eventually it will take root and bear fruit- but it won’t be because we’ve been cultivating the soil. It will be because of the generous- some might even say wasteful- nature of a sower who keeps casting the good news about what God is up to in the world out of deep and endless grace and abundance.
There is a word for us here, if we have the ears to hear it. There is a word that recognizes the conditions on the ground- conditions that aren’t always favorable to understanding just what God is up to. But there is also a word about a sower whose words of favor and blessing for a broken world are thrown far and wide with wild abandon in the hopes that one day those words will take root to grow and feed a hungry world. Who knows? Maybe today is that day. Alleluia, amen.