The parable of the Sower is so well known to us that we might switch off when it is read. This is not a reflection on Arthur’s reading today! It is a reflection of that old adage “familiarity breeds contempt.” We have heard it so many times – from Sunday school days into adulthood – that it has lost its power.
The story itself is a little alien because not many of us are farmers. We are distanced from the process of sowing and reaping and growing our food. Mass production and mechanisation has changed everything. Gardening is the closest we get. Last year it was reported that almost 30% of children aged 5-7 think fruit and vegetables grow on supermarket shelves.
I grew up in a different world. And the parable of the sower brings me memories of rice growing in paddy fields. We lived in a house overlooking a river and flooded paddy fields. Sitting on the veranda, or walking the paths through the fields, we grew familiar with the seasons of paddy growing. Buffaloes ploughed the fields, and wallowed in the gleaming mud. The water-filled fields, reflecting the blue of the sky, lay fallow for a couple of weeks awaiting the scattering of seeds. The farmer arrived with paddy (that’s rice seeds) in a cloth sack, tied around his waist. With a graceful arc of his hand, he flung out the seed. The wind carried it before it fell in the water or on the nearby path; and the birds, closely following the farmer, fluttered and settled on the path behind him, devouring the stray grains. Later we watched the first faint fuzz of fresh green plants emerge. As they grew, the farmer’s family converged to transplant the seedlings into another field. That gave them more space to grow, and a good start on any weeds because small farmers didn’t use pesticides. When the ripening rice turned light gold, it was harvested, weeds and all.
So the parable of the sower is a vivid story. Jesus, who often walked through wheat fields was familiar with the sowing, growing and harvesting of grain. It was familiar to Jesus’ audience too.
But this is also a timeless story. Timeless because it is about God and humans who hear his voice – about Christ who speaks to us through all time. Timeless because it warns us of the noisy busy world crowding out the words of God. In first century Palestine, and today, the world distracts people from what matters most – what Jesus calls the pearl of great price – the Kingdom of Heaven. So this timeless parable talks of us and our world, and how we respond to the words of Christ we hear from time to time.
I have a recurring fight with Paul because sometimes – after I have been talking to him for a while – he removes earphones and says, “were you saying something?” We are all a bit like that, sometimes – barely hearing Christ speak to us.
So this parable is one we should revisit regularly for a spiritual overhaul of our lives – to ask ourselves where we stand, in our relationship with Christ? Because there are a few options in the parable.
The first is the path where birds devour the sown seeds. Are we those people whose lives have become so spiritually barren that we haven’t time to pause and listen to God at all?
Or
Are we rocky ground? We receive Christ’s words and respond to him. But our lives remain so spiritually sterile – so spiritually rootless – when our faith meets difficulties, we wither.
Or
Are we those in whose lives thorns choke Christ’s words? The cares of the world, and the deceitfulness of riches kick in to overwhelm us and our faith. The illusion that money, success and keeping up appearances will bring happiness. These things can become burdens that weigh us down, burdens we might be happier without. In our 21st century world there are many distinctive thorns: our world is filled with distractions, work overrunning our lives, addiction to screens, doom-scrolling news, and the lure of social media.
During my teenage years, we were given dire warnings about “backsliding through worldliness.” It made me feel that the Christian life was a long series of prohibitions. I violated the prohibitions back then, and earned the wrath of Christian leaders. Ironically God and I got on just fine – but I was tired of a joyless Christianity where everything appeared to be forbidden.
But is not what Jesus is talking about. The weeds are the things in our lives that we permit to crowd him out. The great evils are not a glass of whisky or gin, or dancing at a party – “lounge bars, dance halls, picture houses, and dens of iniquity,” as Paul’s church used to call them. We need to remember that Jesus enjoyed life and was accused of being a glutton and drunkard. The great evil is the creeping insidiousness of the busy world that keeps us, day by day, week by week, away from God. And most of us, if we are honest, are afflicted by this.
But there is hope. Freedom from slavery to the world and its cares.
Finally, the parable talks of the good soil; a life open to Christ’s words – hearing, understanding and bearing fruit. Our relationship with God fluctuates through different stages of our lives and I think God understands that. But our constant goal should be to be the good soil – where the God’s can take root and flourish.
Jesus repeatedly talks of “hearing the word” – the word of the Kingdom of Heaven. But how can we hear Christ speak?
Christ’s words arerecorded for us in the Gospels – in stories and parables he tells. And in the Sermon on the Mount – which I call the Manifesto of the Kingdom of Heaven. It challenges us with so much. Be Salt and Light in the World – bring flavour, banish darkness. Anger is as bad as murder. If our right eye causes us to sin, pluck it out – deal with the things that are wrong in our lives. Love our enemies. Do not demand “an eye for an eye,” instead, be gracious and generous. Give to those who need. Pray and draw near to God. Fast and discover spiritual depth (Jesus fasted, and I find it fascinating that the church pays so little attention to this). Do not worry about tomorrow. Do not be anxious. Do not judge. If we pick even one or two of these to live by each week, we might find our lives transformed.
How will we know if God’s words are taking root in our lives? Jesus gives us a barometer – are we loving God and our neighbour. We should ask ourselves if we are bearing the fruit Jesus talks of in the parable? What fruit. St Paul’s in Galatians talks of the fruit of the Spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. In other words, are we Christ-like?
Something I read recently wonderfully echoes our relationship with Christ, and his words.
Maddie Mortimer writes (in the Guardian) about losing her mother and discovering her mother’s diaries written for 25 years, until her death. Although her mother was no longer around to explain herself, she had obtained godlike status; “her word was gospel.” For us, living twenty-one centuries after Christ lived on earth, his words are Gospel. Maddie also says, “my mother’s life story unfolded before me…The diaries were becoming more than places I could retreat into in order to feel her near; they were my scriptures, and I was convinced they contained the secrets – the instructions – to a full and good and interesting life.”
Jesus’ parables, like this one, draw us deeper into our faith in him. If we want to know Christ and become fertile good soil where his words take root – read through the gospels regularly – they bring Christ and his words to us.
If we feel about the Gospels, the way Maddie feels about her mum’s diaries, our lives will be transformed by Christ’s words. Like Maddie, we will “discover the secrets to a full and good and interesting life,” in Christ.