July 23, 2000

When I was a child my mother gave me nasturtiums to plant. She handed me the seeds as I tilled the soil near the fence in our dirt box. This was where we played for hours as children, digging holes, making mud, forming roads and hillsides. But now it was also going to be the place I called “my garden.” Opening the packet of seeds I stuck my five or six year-old finger into the ground and dropped them in, one by one, a hand’s width apart. Then I watered and waited. After some weeks had gone by the long, gangly stems stretched out over the soil, their round leaves and orange and yellow blossoms adding color to that brown patch of dirt. My “garden” was a success. I had sowed the seeds well.

And yet I have to admit that I was never very happy with that planting. From the start those seeds were a disappointment to me. I can still remember opening that paper packet, taking them in my hands, surprised by their size. They were big, nearly as large as peanuts and I realized these were seeds for a child. I wasn’t going to be trusted with a tiny petunia seed, even if it meant a prettier flower. I had to plant nasturtiums. That was the seed handed to me on that springtime afternoon.

The apostle Paul once wrote to the church in Corinth, “When I was a child I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became an adult, I put an end to childish ways” (1 Corinthians 13: 11-12). Growing in emotional and spiritual understanding, we realize that we often don’t have a choice about the seeds we’re asked to sow. Like those nasturtium seeds given to me by my mother we remember that we’re continually asked by God to work with what we have, to apply our faith to the situation at hand. While we may not be facing the challenges of the church in ancient times, we still come in contact with a host of concerns that give us a chance to be true or false to our convictions, childish or adult in our thought and action. No matter what our age or occupation, our “level” of spiritual development or type of religious practice we’re all surrounded by opportunities to embrace God’s presence at the foundation of our lives. Are we faithful in the tasks we find before us? Or do we, as Paul implies of some of the men and women in Corinth, still perceive our situations with immaturity or lukewarm conviction? How is our faith sown in our day-to-day actions? Just what do we sow?

Looking at the parable before us this morning, we can see the wide variety of ways the soil of our faith can be tilled around the seeds of each moment in our lives. With Christ’s words pointing to the possibility of the gospel’s power being planted in this world, we remember the importance of allowing God’s presence to fill the mundane as well as the extraordinary events in our experience. Shared orally for nearly thirty years, this parable challenges us to till with hope, to sow in trust, to tend every aspect of our lives in the light of God’s presence. These words remind us of the ways our faith can have an impact on whatever seed is placed in our hands.

Take, for example, the first seed in this story. It’s the one that falls on the path, the one never given a chance to grow because the birds come and eat it up. Can’t we liken this seed to the tasks in our lives that don’t seem to be at all related to our faith? From the many interactions that fill our days, to routine chores and responsibilities that crowd our hours, the smallest moments can often be so mundane that they seem to have nothing to do with our relationship with God. But aren’t they powerfully related? Doesn’t the manner in which we handle these moments have a great impact on the practice and perception of our faith? Like a harvest never planted, ignoring these small events means missing many opportunities to practice Christian kindness, compassion and patience. Tossing them aside, as a seed on the path, means forgetting how God wants to be with us, in Spirit, in deed, throughout the day. Do we plant them and grow in faith, or do we let them fall to be eaten up by the birds?

Then there’s the seed that falls on rocky ground, the one that didn’t have much soil, making it an easy target for the sun’s damaging rays. This struggling plant can never thrive because of its shallow roots, offering a clear metaphor for one who commits to living the truth of Christ’s gospel with only lukewarm conviction, with only passive intent. Like the man who comes to church on Sunday but fails to integrate his faith throughout the week, like the woman who calls out to God only in times of crisis or despair, the example of this seed reveals the danger of setting our spiritual lives apart from our more secular responsibilities. Similar to the bird eating the fallen seed, the metaphor of rocky soil challenges us to offer each moment to God, seeking to plant our interactions and experiences in the rich soil of faithful love, devoted service.

Finally there’s that third seed that falls among the thorns. Remember Jesus’ words, the image he creates as this plant’s life is strangled by weeds? Prompting us to consider the countless concerns that fill our minds, this type of sowing once again reveals the importance of having our faith at the center of our lives, not as one of the many interests that fill our spare time but as the central focus of our days. Sowing the tasks at hand means focusing our attention on God, praying for guidance, seeking spiritual nourishment and community. Like the other seeds unable to grow this plant is endangered from the start.

The Parable of the Sower shows us what to sow and how to sow it. Putting before us the challenge of allowing the gospel of God’s love to grow in our lives, it encourages the cultivation of a healthy, active faith through the day-to-day experiences of our human existence. Rather than focusing on harvest this is a story that stresses the importance of process through the metaphor of planting. It shows us the way to live the truth of our Christian faith by applying it to all we do, surrounding ourselves, our seeds, with God’s nurturing presence and Christ’s sustaining salvation. Though we may not be working the land as so many men and women did in ancient times, this parable raises important questions for us to consider: What threatens to devour our faith like the birds? How do we harden our hearts to the presence of God, destroying the potential for spiritual roots? How do we constantly allow more worldly concerns, the many daily distractions, kill the best of our intentions? Just what do we sow?

Some of you may be familiar with the wisdom of Brother Lawrence, a Carmelite monk from the seventeenth century who asked these questions in a very real way. Corresponding with a colleague over a period of years, his letters were put down in the form we now call “The Practice of the Presence of God.” As the cook for his monastery in Paris he wrote about the possibility of inviting God into the little things in life: the dishwashing, the cooking, the cleaning. Like a woman I know who prays for the members of her family as she folds their items of cleaned laundry, Brother Lawrence sowed seeds of faith continually in all the tasks of his day. He put his faith into very real practice.

Like Brother Lawrence, the priest and spiritual writer Henri Nouwen appreciated the importance of bringing God into every aspect of our lives. In a book of devotions titled, Show Me the Way he describes the need to recognize God’s presence in all that surrounds us, writing, “Living a spiritual life requires a change of heart, a conversion…an inner experience of oneness. We realize that we are in the center, and that from there all that is and all that takes place can be seen and understood as part of the mystery of God’s life with us.” He continues:

Our conflicts and pains…our families and friends, our activities and projects… no longer appear to us as a fatiguing variety of things which we can barely keep together, but rather as affirmations and revelations of the new life of the Spirit in us. “All these other things,” which so occupied and preoccupied us, now come as gifts or challenges that strengthen and deepen the new life which we have discovered.

Holding the conviction that each and every moment is filled with the opportunity to see God at the center, to welcome the Spirit’s presence and power, we see how our actions can come to reflect the sowing of that final seed. Understanding how God’s grace leads us to apply our faith to all that we do we become immersed in rich and fertile soil. Whether we’re facing the realities of hardship or loss or simply following through on our routines, we remember that we can be led by Christ’s Spirit, filled with the grace of God each and every moment of our days. Like a faithful quip I recently came across, we grow to trust that,

Out of the seed, the flower;

out of the flower the seed;

out of the need the power;

out of the power the deed.

We may all remember the nursery rhyme, “Mistress Mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow? With silver bells and cockle shells and pretty maids all in a row.” Reflecting upon the Parable of the Sower this morning we realize that we’re constantly confronted by questions like that one in our walk as Christian disciples. We’re asked, What are we sowing? How does our garden grow? Appreciating the way that I was handed those nasturtium seeds as a little girl we need to trust that the seeds we’re given are ones filled with opportunity and promise. Through disappointment or fear, anxiety or life’s many obstacles we can trust that our planting can be inspired by God who seeks to surround us with nurture and strength, preparing us to live the gospel of Christ’s forgiveness and compassion. We may remember that gracious and loving hands are leading us to a harvest like the mustard seed.

And so I close with a blessing Paul offered members of the early church, saying, “May your roots go down deep into the soil of God’s marvelous love. And may you have the power to understand, as all God’s people should, how wide, how long, how high, and how deep [God’s] love really is” (Ephesians 3: 17-18).

Let us pray.

Most loving God, most merciful Creator, we give you thanks for being with us this day, for tending our lives with such care and compassion. Inspire us, we pray, that as we come to each situation in our lives we may see your presence in it. Help us to sow all that we are, all that we do in your loving Spirit.

Amen.

Scripture Reading

Mark 4: 1-9; 30-33

Again he began to teach beside the sea. Such a very large crowd gathered around him that he got into a boat on the sea and sat there, while the whole crowd was beside the sea on the land. He began to teach them many things in parables, and in his teaching he said to them: “Listen! A sower went out to sow. And as he sowed, some seed fell on the path, and the birds came and ate it up. Other seed fell on rocky ground, where it did not have much soil, and it sprang up quickly, since it had no depth of soil. And when the sun rose, it was scorched; and since it had no root, it withered away. Other seed fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked it, and it yielded no grain. Other seed fell into good soil and brought forth grain, growing up and increasing and yielding thirty and sixty and a hundredfold.” And he said, “Let anyone with ears to hear listen!”

He also said, ¡°With what can we compare the kingdom of God, or what parable will we use for it? It is like a mustard seed, which, when sown upon the ground, is the smallest of all the seeds on earth; yet when it is sown it grows up and becomes the greatest of all shrubs, and puts forth large branches, so that the birds of the air can make nests in its shade.¡±

With many such parables he spoke the word to them, as they were able to hear it.