Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23

That same day Jesus went out of the house and sat beside the sea. Such great crowds gathered around him that he got into a boat and sat there, while the whole crowd stood on the beach. And he told them many things in parables, saying: "Listen! A sower went out to sow. And as he sowed, some seeds fell on the path, and the birds came and ate them up. Other seeds fell on rocky ground, where they did not have much soil, and they sprang up quickly, since they had no depth of soil. But when the sun rose, they were scorched; and since they had no root, they withered away. Other seeds fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked them. Other seeds fell on good soil and brought forth grain, some a hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty. Let anyone with ears listen!"

"Hear then the parable of the sower. When anyone hears the word of the kingdom and does not understand it, the evil one comes and snatches away what is sown in the heart; this is what was sown on the path. As for what was sown on rocky ground, this is the one who hears the word and immediately receives it with joy; yet such a person has no root, but endures only for a while, and when trouble or persecution arises on account of the word, that person immediately falls away. As for what was sown among thorns, this is the one who hears the word, but the cares of the world and the lure of wealth choke the word, and it yields nothing. But as for what was sown on good soil, this is the one who hears the word and understands it, who indeed bears fruit and yields, in one case a hundredfold, in another sixty, and in another thirty."

I can’t think of a better place to preach on Jesus’ parable of the sower than in the Grace Garden at Cross of Grace.

This summer my work in the church garden has taken on new significance as it is one of the few places besides my home where I have spent time during quarantine. This has been my vacation spot, my quiet place, my study, my gym, and, on occasion, my social hour. It is a place I can come to and feel like I’m doing good and necessary work growing food to be shared with people who are hungry.

One of the reasons I spend so much time in the garden, other than the obvious fact that gardening requires a lot of time, is that gardening is my favorite metaphor for spiritual life. I guess that’s one thing I have in common with Jesus, who often taught spiritual principles using garden imagery. In addition to using garden-related imagery as teaching illustrations, Jesus also prayed in gardens and was even mistaken for a gardener when he appeared to Mary after his resurrection, which I’ve always thought was an absolutely beautiful way to think about God’s promise of the resurrected life.

In today’s parable, Jesus hones in on soil as one particular aspect of gardening that is a metaphor for discipleship. Jesus tells us that God’s word is like seed sown indiscriminately on the soil of our hearts. Some heart-soil is impenetrable; the seeds sit on the surface and external threats steal the seeds away. Some heart-soil lacks the nutrients necessary for lasting and sustainable growth. Some heart-soil would rather do anything but care for the seed of God’s word. But other heart-soil is rich with nutrients; it pours its energy into allowing the seed of God’s word to take root, grow, and produce fruit for the world to enjoy.

In the Grace Garden, the soil doesn’t get to choose what kind of soil it will be. Although, it should be said, if this area were to be completely untouched for twenty years and allowed to grow without interference, the top inch or two of soil would be some of the richest and most incredible soil you could hope for. That’s because nature (i.e., God’s “good” creation) prevails.

When we started this garden three years ago, I took a soil sample and had it analyzed. It was exactly what you’d expect from soil that was near a construction site within the last decade. It was devoid of most necessary nutrients, couldn’t hold moisture, and was ill-suited to grow anything but weeds. New topsoil, minerals, and compost was added to the existing soil and crops were planted that would affix necessary nutrients back into the soil. Through the past three years the soil quality has steadily improved and now we can count on productive crop growth each summer. The soil was lacking; but some care and attention eventually enhanced its quality.

As we explore the spiritual metaphor, please understand I’m not saying we should obsess over analyzing the quality of our heart-soil or “doing” things in order to make our heart-soil more acceptable to God. Lutheran theology is absolutely clear on the fact that we cannot do anything to earn God’s grace and love. But where we sometimes sell ourselves short is in the realization we absolutely have things to do in response to God’s freely-given grace. There are ways to amend our heart-soil so that the fruits of the spirit can grow and be shared with the world. This is the task of discipleship. The fruit of the spirit is always a freely-given gift of grace, but God doesn’t grow fruit in soil that lacks the necessary spiritual nutrients.

In these past few months of social unrest I’ve taken the spiritual metaphor of the garden to heart. I have felt a divine invitation to assess the quality of my heart-soil and take stock of what’s growing in my spiritual garden.

Are the seeds of God’s word able to penetrate the surface of my heart-soil? Or am I not receptive to the always-surprising and expansive scope of God’s grace?

Are the seeds of God’s word able to draw from a diversity of necessary nutrients in my heart-soil? Have I amended my heart-soil with the ideas and perspectives of others that are necessary heart-soil amendments if I hope to bear spiritual fruit? Or does my heart-soil consist only of my own ideas and preconceived notions?

Are the seeds of God’s word being tended to and nurtured in my heart-soil? Or am I too busy, preoccupied, or lazy to tend to them?

Contemplating the answers to these questions can be painful and embarrassing (trust me on that one); but is an absolutely essential step if you hope to bear the fruit of peace, joy, love, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. There will be no justice and no peace until we allow God’s word to penetrate our heart-soil and cooperate with the Spirit’s power to “let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream” (Amos 5:24).

My hope and prayer for you is that you will find a way into the garden of your heart. Maybe you will find that here in the Grace Garden, as I so often have. Maybe you need nothing more than the pages of scripture or the folded hands of prayer. But wherever you find access to your heart-soil, please be honest, brave, vulnerable with yourself as you take stock of what you have and what you lack. And above all, expect God to produce something beautiful and abundant in your life as you tend to your heart-soil.

Amen.

Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30

“But to what will I compare this generation? It is like children sitting in the marketplaces and calling to one another, ‘We played the flute for you and you did not dance; we wailed, and you did not mourn.’

“For John came, neither eating nor drinking, and they say, ‘He has a demon’; the Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, ‘Look a glutton and a drunkard; a friend of tax collectors and sinners!’ Yet, wisdom is vindicated by her deeds.”

At that time, Jesus said, “I thank you Father, Lord of heaven and earth because you have hidden these things from the wise and the intelligent and have revealed them to infants; yes, Father, for such was your gracious will. All things have been handed over to me by my Father; and no one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son, and anyone to whom the Son chooses to reveal him.

“Come to me all you who are weary and carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

I can hardly hear these words from Jesus on this Fourth of July weekend and not think of Emma Lazarus’ sonnet – “The New Colossus” – that sits on the pedestal of our Statue of Liberty – where she says, partly,

“Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

And remember what Jesus said, “Come to me all you who are weary and carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

I hope worship tonight feels like a bit of a home-coming for all of us. I know it’s not exactly how we would like it to be. And I know this is a one-shot deal for the time being. But it is good for us to be here. It is good for us to be together again. I’ve heard from a few of you who have had occasion to be at Cross of Grace and in the building here and there for odd jobs and small things say that “it just feels good” to be in the Church. And I’m glad for that. Sacred spaces are supposed to feel that way. Cross of Grace is supposed to feel that way, for those of us who call it ‘home.’

And I’m with Emma Lazarus, frankly, who described our nation with that warm, wide, welcome way back when – that we would and could and should be “home” for whoever needs a safe place to land, especially if they need a safe place to land in this world.

And I want the Church in the world – and I want our congregation at Cross of Grace – to represent and to be that kind of safe place to land – for those of us who already call it home, of course, but for anyone and everyone who is weary, and heavily burdened, in need of rest for their soul, as Jesus puts it. We, as a Church, as children of God, as believers in the “Good news of great joy for all people,” are called to be that kind of warm, wide welcome for anyone and everyone who needs it, beyond political lines and national boundaries and ethnic identities: for the tired, the poor, the huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of every teeming shore; the homeless, the tempest-tossed, and so on.

And so I wonder what it means to “find rest for your soul,” as Jesus says. Thank goodness this kind of rest is so much more than the many vacations and trips and travels that many of us have cancelled and been forced to miss out on this summer, thanks to the virus that has kept us quarantined. God knows we need that kind of rest and Sabbath, for sure. But because it’s Jesus talking – because Jesus is the one extending the invitation – I’m convinced this “rest for your soul,” is even better than a beach, a boat ride, a baseball game, or a trip to your favorite amusement park.

Now, back up with me a minute to the rest of tonight’s Gospel. We’ve got to do a little Bible study here, because all of these verses don’t seem to go together so well, at first.

What’s Jesus talking about with the children in the market place and with John not eating and drinking and with the Son of Man eating and drinking? What about the Father knowing the Son and the Son knowing the Father? And what about hiding things from the wise and the intelligent and revealing them to infants? Like I said, it’s a bunch of stuff that doesn’t make much sense to me, at first.

But check it out…

Jesus compares the people of his generation to little children, playing games in the marketplace. They didn’t like John the Baptist because he wouldn’t eat and drink like the rest of them. They didn’t like Jesus because he did. So, the people in Jesus’ day, played around with notions of what God was, with who the Messiah might be, with what salvation was supposed to look like, and who it was supposed to be for.

In other words, people were fickle. They were fair-weather fans. They had a limited vision of what God could do. They had low expectations of who God could be. They had a shallow concept of what salvation and freedom and love were supposed to look like. And they tried to dictate that for themselves and against each other.

And, sadly, not enough has changed. That’s still the case a lot of the time.

Ordained leaders in God’s Church are scaring people off and keeping people out by referring to Children of God as “maggots and parasites.” (Google “priest,” “maggots” and “parasites” and you’ll find what I’m talking about, if you haven’t already heard.)

We live in a world where Christian people debate and deny the value of God’s children because they were created to be gay or lesbian or transgender; or because they were created “Red or Yellow, Black or White,” no matter how many times they sung that song in Sunday School.

We live in a world where too many in our own country confuse political party and religious affiliation, too much of the time.

And Jesus understood all of this. Jesus understood that there would be competition for God’s time and influence in our lives. And he understood that we wouldn’t always choose God – or God’s ways as faithfully as we’d like. Jesus understood that there would be forces to pull people in all kinds of different directions. And he understood that we wouldn’t always end up facing heavenward. Jesus knew what it fickle followers looked like, he knew what it was to be tempted by fair weather, and to be enticed by bandwagons. And Jesus knew our allegiance to God’s word and will for us could blow in and out like the wind.

Most of all, Jesus understood how tiring and weary and burdensome life like this could be for people; and that when his followers and disciples get it wrong, we can make it even worse for the rest of God’s children to feel and to be safe and at peace in this world. And so he offers us something different.

“Come to me all you who are weary and carrying heavy burdens.” “Take my yoke upon you and learn from me.” “My yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

These are words of quiet confidence that speak louder – if we’ll let them – than all of the competing, contradictory voices out there in the world.

Tonight, Jesus is offering a cosmic sort of rest for the weary, for the broken, for the fearful, for the lonely, hungry, sick, lost and oppressed. And my prayer is always that that’s what we’re trying to offer here at Cross of Grace – for us and for anyone who dares to join us: a place that longs for and prays about and works toward justice, with humility; a place that feeds and fills people; a place that welcomes and comforts and calls people into community; a place that lifts people up and that holds people together, even when we have to do that separately.

Our call as God’s Church in the world is to be a still, solid, steady, consistent home for each other and for the world around us. Our call is to be the other option to the temptation, to be a safe haven in the midst of fair and foul weather, and to be a vessel for salvation that is stronger and more reliable than any bandwagon.

So welcome home tonight. It’s good to be with you again, in this way. I look forward to being able to do this more often, when it’s safe. But rest assured that God’s grace and mercy and hope and peace are enough to hold us, in the meantime.

Amen

Tending to Your Heart-Soil

Welcome Home for the Weary