I’ve had a lot of comments on the message I gave last Sunday. I had hoped to get it up in audio format, but didn’t have a chance to do it this week. So here it is in written format!

If you have any thoughts, I’d love to hear them – please leave a comment!

- Jon

———————————–

Once upon a time, there was a farmer who lived on a farm a little ways from here… but not too far.

He loved farming and had done it his whole life.  He didn’t have a lot of fancy equipment, no expensive chemicals.  Instead of a calendar or an almanac, he watched the skies and other plants.  The farmer used old-fashioned and time-tested methods that he had learned from his father.  He just worked his small plot of land with his hands, a few tools, a pickup truck, his John Deere tractor, and his old hunting dog named Brown.

It was the early springtime of the year – right at planting time.  Already the spring had been hot, and there hadn’t been much rain.  So the farmer knew he would have to choose his planting time carefully.  He prepared his seeds and tools, plowed up the soil, and waited for a good rain.

He got his rain late one evening – just enough to get the soil moist, but not enough to make it hard.  He woke before dawn the next morning, and he and Brown had a big breakfast.  Then as the sun was coming up, he shouldered his heavy seed bag and the two set off into the field.

This farmer knew the truth about seeds, especially in the old-fashioned way he farmed – some seeds will make it, and some won’t.  That’s just a fact of life.  He did everything he could to make sure that as many of those seeds as possible would make it.  He scattered the seed generously and widely, his practiced hands distributing seed to just the right places.

The Path

As the sun got higher in the sky, the birds began to wake and make noise.  It was still early spring, and food was hard to come by.  So when the birds saw those seeds flying through the air, they swooped down from the trees to get a little breakfast.

This is where Old Brown came in – he ran through the field, barking and making a ruckus, chasing those birds away as best he could.  He ran to and fro, and the farmer watched with laughing eyes as the old hunting dog had his fun.

Brown was mostly successful.  He kept the birds at bay while the seeds were being scattered.  A gentle rain later that day washed most of the seeds into the softened soil.

But a few were still vulnerable.  They had fallen on the places where the ground had been packed down – in the farmer’s footprints in the mud, for instance;  in the tracks left by the tractor;  or on the hard-packed trail around the field where the farmer drove his pickup truck.

You see, this soil wasn’t vulnerable.  It was hard and packed tight.  It wasn’t about to let anything in – good, bad or indifferent.  This soil had experienced the hard times of life – had been pushed, shoved and hurt.  The dirt had hardened itself so those hard times wouldn’t hurt as much.  It refused to trust, refused to accept, refused to see things in a new way, or to believe in things it couldn’t see.  It’s just as well the seed didn’t try to take root here, because the ground was packed so tightly that no nutrients had gotten into it for a long time.  It might as well just have been a rock.

So the seeds that landed here simply sat on top of the ground.  And after the farmer and the dog left the field, the birds swooped down and had their fill.  Not a single seed was left in these hard places.

The Rocks

Over those first few weeks, the weather turned more hospitable, so the seeds found a good home in good soil.  They germinated and began to grow – slowly at first, putting out roots and barely peeking above the ground.  The nights were still cold sometimes, so those seeds did most of their work under the ground.  In fact, if you didn’t look closely, you might think those seeds weren’t doing a thing.

But as the days got warmer, the seeds began to come up into the sun and they grew quickly, reaching for the sky.  Sometimes, it seemed to the farmer that the plants would grow a foot in a single day.  This is just what he’d hoped for – the seeds he’d put out had found a good home in the soil, and they were beginning to do their work.

Some of these seeds still had trouble, however.  They had not landed on the hardest ground, to be sure.  But they had found some areas that didn’t have enough good soil to support them.  Along the edge of the field, for instance, where the ground was somewhat soft on top but was hard underneath.  Some had landed on the gravel driveway that ran between the field and the house.

This soil looked promising at first, and the seeds seemed to have found a good home.  Like many of the other plants, these began gently peeking above the ground, then shot up toward the sky as the days got warmer.  In some places, these seeds grew up even faster. From above the ground, you couldn’t tell much of a difference between these plants and the ones that were actually in the field.

No matter how good things looked in this soil, however, there was still a serious problem.  The soil in these places was shallow.  Like all soil at first, this soil had once been packed tight.  But now it had been gently loosened by the movement of the tractor nearby, buy the feet of the farmer, or by the gravel which had been pushed into it.  It readily accepted the seeds that landed on it – no birds were going to get this seed!

But while this soil had all the appearances of a good place to plant, and while the seeds there sprouted and began to grow, the problem was under the ground where you couldn’t see.  This soil was glad to seem accepting and open, but it only allowed those seeds to penetrate a little ways down.  After all, you can let things in… but not TOO far.  Who knows what would happen if you let this strange seed send its roots all the way down??  It might attract bugs, grubs or moles – the soil couldn’t let that happen!  It had to protect itself.

So it kept its soft façade, but it was only a façade.  This soil could look the part on the outside, but it never really let the plant take deep root all the way down deep – where those roots could get the water and nutrients that would sustain the plant for the difficult months to come.

Those seeds germinated and sprouted.  They peeked above the earth and shot up toward the sky.  But as soon as the rainy season stopped, their shallow roots betrayed them.  While the other plants nearby continued to draw water and food from the soil deep down, these plants in the shallow soil had nothing to draw from.   After a couple of days without rain, they began to wilt.  The morning dew might revive them for a few hours, but not for long.  And after a week with no rain and hot sun, the plants were brown and dead.  The seeds had been wasted.

The Weeds

The other seeds did exceptionally well.  They grew deep roots so they could weather the long dry days.  They shot up toward the sky and began to put out leaves.  It looked like this was going to be a good year come harvest time!

But a few more seeds ran into problems.  Like the others, these seeds had excellent soil.  They grew deep roots and had the nutrients and water they needed.  But even though the farmer had turned over the soil, and all the weeds had been buried deep in the ground, a few persistent weeds remained asleep.  And as soon as the sun began to warm the earth, the weeds began to grow alongside the other plants – slowly at first.

You see this soil had allowed itself to be soft and vulnerable.  But it had not been selective about which seeds would take root – and, it had not decided which seeds were most important.  It allowed other things to come and share the water and nutrients with the good plants.  These old weeds had been here a long time – didn’t they have a right to grow and live, too?  And the bugs that came year after year to feed on those weeds, came to feed on the good plants as well.

The good plants had to compete for the things they needed – and being new plants, just growing roots, they couldn’t put up much of a fight.  Things would grow in this soil – but the things that grew were the wrong kinds of plants.

The farmer did his best to pull up the weeds, but in some places the soil was so full of them that he couldn’t keep up.  In these places, the weeds grew and reproduced, so that eventually the good plants could get none of the things they needed to thrive.  They slowly withered and died from lack of nourishment.

The Good Soil

Despite all these problems, the farmer did have a good crop come harvest time.  As the summer turned into fall, and the plants ripened into maturity, he prepared to go and collect the harvest.  He called in neighbors and friends, and one afternoon they came together.  Laughing and chatting, they swarmed into the small field and collected all the harvest.  Old Brown darted back and forth, loving all the attention he was getting.

That night when they were through, all the crowd gathered in the farmhouse alongside the farmer.  They gave thanks to God for the harvest they had collected.  Then they enjoyed a meal together – a meal that looked much like a banquet.

Even though some of the seed had been taken because the soil was too hard, even though some of the seed had withered because it couldn’t grow deep roots, even though some of the plants had been starved to death by the weeds – even then, the farmer’s efforts had not been wasted.  He had set out in the springtime with a small bag over his shoulder… and now, it took dozens of people to bring in the harvest.  Not only did he have enough seed to plant next year, but he also had enough to give him food through the winter.

Year after year this cycle was repeated.  The soil was prepared; the seeds were sown.  Some seeds were eaten up, some plants withered and died.  But never was the seed or the effort wasted, because the good soil more than made up for the few areas where the seed had died.

What About Us?

You already knew the story I told this morning.  In fact, I bet a lot of you recognized it when I was only a few lines into it.  It’s a parable Jesus told to the crowds and to his disciples one day – and that he later explained to his disciples.

I remember hearing this story growing up.  I remember hearing it in seminary and in sermons.  But it wasn’t until I moved here and experienced a little of this kind of life (and only a LITTLE), that I understood something different about the story.

I had always viewed this story as a one-time affair.  The soil is me.  The seeds are the gospel.  God is the farmer, and he wants to plant the seed in me.  I had chosen to accept the seed, let it take root.  Heck, I even let it take root deep enough that I went into ministry!  Surely, if anyone could claim to be the good soil, it’s me!

Ahh, but then around here, after a couple of years, I was made aware of something – something so basic that you probably understand it without even knowing.  But humor me as I share what I’ve been thinking about it.

This story is not a one-time event.  This story – like the planting of crops – is a cycle.  It happens every year, in seasons and at established times and places.  This story is played out time and again, over and over.

Of course, you say!  It’s a cycle, it happens again and again.  But do we look at this story that way?  I’m sure that you already do, but again – humor me.

What if this is an example of the cycle we go through?

What if our lives have seasons – seasons when we are dry and cold, seasons when we are warm and ready to be planted?

What if God is sowing seeds in us all the time?

What if the fact that we were the “good” soil the first time around, doesn’t mean that we are still the “good” soil today?

Again, I’m sure you already understood this, but humor me, please!

What I’ve realized about this passage is that I could be – and I HAVE BEEN – every one of these types of soil at different times in my life.  In fact, I might be different types of soil from day to day.

Some days, my heart is like the hard soil.  I don’t want anything to do with the seeds God is sowing in my life – “grow in me,” “be connected to the vine,” “nurture others who are in need.”  I know these seeds are there, but I refuse to let them grow.  I’ve had a long hard week, and I don’t really want anything to do with this stuff right now.

Some days, my heart is like the shallow soil.  I have to be “on” a lot, so I have to LOOK vulnerable – like the “good” soil.  But no matter how the seeds might start to grow, they will quickly wither and die because I haven’t let them take root deeply in my spirit and soul.

Some days, my heart is like the weedy soil.  I have so much going on in my life these days that it’s hard to pay attention to all of them.  All too often, I forget that the most important seeds I water are the ones God is sowing… no matter how important those other seeds may seem to me.

And some days – those rare, few days – my heart is like the good soil.  I take in God’s seeds – his word and his love.  I let them nourish and take root.  I let them grow throughout the day, and bear fruit that reaches to others.

Real soil takes months and years to cultivate.  But my soil can change almost instantly.

…

But I didn’t have to tell you all this.  You live out here among seeds and plants.  You all know exactly what I’m talking about, and you didn’t need to hear this story or this message.

But thanks for letting me tell it anyway – just for my sake, not for yours.

Let he or she that has ears, hear what God is telling us today.