The Parable of the Four Soils

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 a 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. If you have ears, hear!”

“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 this age 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.”


Today we are going to be talking about soil; and at the very same time, we are going to be talking about our minds and imaginations. The activity of “cultivating” applies equally – quite poetically – to both. We have here in Matthew the very familiar parable of the sower; though perhaps is should be called more accurately “The Parable of Four Soils”.

Jesus says to the crowd, “a sower went out to sow, and lots of the seed did not find fertile ground and grow, or it germinated briefly but was not able to flourish. Some of the seed did find fertile ground, and in some places the soil was Excellent and the yield was 100 fold. In other places the soil was very good and the yield was 60 fold. In other places, the soil was pretty good and the yield was 30 fold.”

Jesus makes clear here that the seed is the Word of the kingdom of God. I love how this seed is spread indiscrimately. The sower does not focus their efforts merely on the excellent soil, but instead gives it away to all kinds of soils in all kinds of places. This is good news! Rejoice! The Word of God, Jesus Christ himself, is for all people.

The focus of this parable, though, is not on the seed or the sower. It is on the soils; it is a parable about reception, about receiving and bearing the fruit of the Kin-dom of God. Jesus describes four possible kinds of soils for us, that represent four different states of mind and heart.

The first three soils result in failed harvests:

1. The Path: The Word is not understood, so it is taken from us and has no effect.

2. The Rocky Soil: The Word is received with joy, and it takes root, but, alas, the roots of the Word are not deep enough to endure.

3. The Thorny Soil: Here the distractions of the world and money choke the Word of God out.

The Word is not able to grow and flourish in these three soils, or in people with these qualities of mind. Lets think for a min about why that might be:

The Path is too hard and inflexible, it has been treaded down solid – perhaps in our analogy between soil and mind, this is someone whose mind is made up. Nothing grows in the path because it is too compressed. Water rolls right off. Even if a plant springs up, it is crushed underfoot. There is no way into this ground.

The Rocky soil is too shallow – the quality of the soil might be fine, as we are told the seed germinates, but it is not deep enough or broad enough to sustain lasting and enduring growth. This is a mind that is perhaps open to be persuaded by new insights or welcomes different perspectives, but it does not go deep enough to bring forth fruitful and faithful action.

The Thorny Soil is too crowded – is obviously soil that can sustain an abundance of life – yet, it is not growing edibles but weeds. Thorns are rooted so deep and are so broadly plentiful in that there is no space for a new seed to grow, a new idea to flourish. This is a person who is distracted by life.

Then we have the fourth soil,

4. The Good Soil:

Jesus explains, “But as for what was sown on good soil, this is the one who hears the word and understands it, who indeed bears fruit”.

This soil or person hears the Word of God and, unlike the other three soils:

i. a) understands it,

ii. b) allows it to take deep root,

iii. c) grows and endures through the seasons, and

iv. d) bears fruit for harvest.

b. **the reception of the Word bears forth in growth, action, change. Good soil does not merely receive the seed, but creates the conditions for flourishing.

So obviously we want to be good soil; but what if we are not good soil? What if we are hard soil? Or shallow soil? Or crowded soil?

Something that I think can be overlooked in this passage is that the parable never says that the soil is destined to stay how it is described. As the gardeners and farmers in the room know, good soil can be cultivated.

It is slow, hard work. It depends on a multitude of other creatures and processes to assist the farmer’s or gardener’s efforts – the cycle of decay and renewal, the presence of bugs, worms and microbes breaking down organic materials, plants that add nutriance back into the soil, rainfall, and merely time. But it can be done.

I have a spot in my backyard, just under my kitchen window that is SOLID CLAY. Weeding this portion of the yard is tough and thus it is currently fully of weeds…because I have children. When it rains this section becomes a standing pond because the water does not penetrate easily.

Last fall, however, I did have one weekend to devote to a very small section of this clay. I spent two exhausting days digging up the bed, pulling out the seeming miles of weedy vines underground, sifting through it to pull up rocks, ammending the soil with manure. This summer, unlike the section right under my window, I have a three foot garden bed where my peonies are flourishing.

Similarly, this parable is calling the Christian disciple to do the hard work to become good soil. The Path need not stay compacted, the rocky soil can increase its depth, and the thorny soil can be weeded. Afterall, that is why Jesus calls us to become disciples, students; to learn and grow into his image by the power of the Spirit.

This summer we have been focusing on hearing God’s Word in New ways, but not just from this pulpit: we have also been doing individual work of plowing and tilling our imaginations to understand the implications of the gospel in light of the current racial and economic disparities in our country. Pastor Cogan, for example, just began a book study this last week on the book Caste. A group of you attended racial equity training. Many others have picked up a great variety of adult and children’s books from the Narthex.

This is an amazing start. It is timely for us, then, to hear this parable as the summer is coming to an end. In what condition is the ground of your mind and my mind? What will be the “harvest” of our congregation’s focused concern with race and racism? Will we have a harvest?

Will our congregation be like The Path, where these new perspectives “roll off like water on a rock?” Are we as a community compacted so tight that we cannot be opened up by new loves, new concerns? Will our congregation be like The Rocky ground where we receive these various books and sermons with joy, yet do not able to allow it to root deeply enough to endure over the long haul? Or will our congregation be like the Thorny Ground and eventually get distracted? Or bored? It is easy to feel fatigue wrestling with issues that feel impossibly large. Can we avoid it?

This summer is mainly about the first step towards becoming good soil – understanding this Word, hearing the gospel in voices from the margins, taking off the blinders of our minds and hearts. If by grace we are enabled to do this, we have successfully avoided become like the soil of The Path. We have been opened up and turned over, air and light and nutrients have been added in. But, will we allow it to penetrate deep into our community?

I have faith that if we continue to attempt to cultivate our minds, hearts and lives we can become good soil; this is because the grace of the Spirit to take our mere graspings and bear fruit for God’s kingdom. The Spirit of Christ is eager to partner with us in this truly life-long project. So when the books have been read and the summer class over, how do we continue to cultivate imaginations to be able to think expansively and inclusively from multiple perspectives? This will involve the typical suspects – volunteering, advocacy, voting, and serving our community – but it may also involve something you might not expect: stories.

I am a theologian by trade, and I research and teach various classes in theology, the arts, and the formation of the Christian imagination. Many theologians in my area of study have noted how our imagination is formed through many seemingly innocuous cultural habits and stories.

We become the people we are through the narratives we inhabit, the stories we tell ourselves about who we are, where we came from, and where we are going.

And the stories that most white North Americans inhabit are ordered by a white imagination; Even TV shows or books or movies that with characters of color may be reproducing a white racial ordering of the world – think of how so many of the black characters in TV or movies are treated as comic relief or as a support for the white hero.

So one answer to the question “what do we do when the books are read and the class is over?” is immerse yourself in the imagination of those who are not white.

There are non-white novelists, poets, painters, directors, and more that are producing excellent stories in every genera and media, from horror to romance to nature poetry to children’s books. Do you read poetry? Start reading the Black Indiana poet Ross Gay or Native American poet Joy Harjo. Do you like science fiction? Try reading Octavia Butler and other authors in Afrofuturism. Do you like visual art? Look up the monumental paintings of Kehinde Wiley who paints black subjects in epic and humanity-honoring images.

The deconstructive work that many of us have been doing is critically important – we need to take the blinders off to see the hurt and oppression in our society. But we also need stories about Black joy. Native American hope. Asian American Love. Indian American beauty. Pacific Islander flourishing. We need to hear, and see, and feel other people’s stories, to be able to imagine with them what a better future looks like for all.

Jesus calls us to imitate good soil: to receive God’s word, to tend it over the long haul, to improve our minds and hearts so that the Kingdom of God is embodied in our actions, our community, and our stories.

An Invitation for all the Amadeos

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 are 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.”


Amadeo was a deadbeat dad with a drinking problem, no job, and still living with his mom. He is the protagonist in Kristin Valdez Quade’s book The Five Wounds. It's a fictional story about a three-generation Mexican/American family living in small-town New Mexico. One day, Amadeo’s 15 year old daughter shows up on his doorstep, 8 months pregnant.

This was bad timing for Amadeo who's trying to get his life together, if even haphazardly. He joined the local catholic brotherhood and was about to play “Jesus” in the town’s passion parade. Amadeo marched the streets carrying the cross just like Jesus, with nails actually going through his hands, and thinking that act would atone for all his sins and put his life in order. The rest of the story is about Amadeo trying to be the man he so desperately wants to be for his daughter, his grandson, his mother, and himself.

There’s a part in the story where things might take a turn for the better. Amadeo’s stopped drinking and he’s even started his own business, repairing cracked windshields. After a few weeks of passing out flyers his daughter made, he got his first job: his mother’s boss, a big shot in the town. Amadeo thought this would be the moment that would change everything: if he could just fix the windshield of an expensive BMW, everyone would come to him for work, he’d have money to support his daughter and grandson, his mom would be so proud.

And then like a trainwreck you can’t help but read, the job and Amadeo unravel in spectacular fashion. Amadeo pours too much resin on the crack; it begins oozing all over the windshield and down the hood. He runs to grab paper towel and as he attempts to wipe it off, he breaks the windshield further and fills the cracks with debris from the paper. The windshield is ruined, resin is stuck to the hood of the car, and Amadeo is in full panic. He has no idea how to fix it, and instead of confessing to his mistake, he runs as fast as he can to the nearest bar that’s open at 10am and begins to drink, leaving his mother to once again face the consequences of his mistakes. In the midst of all this,

Quade writes, “in his mind, his crime balloons to fit his shame. He can never catch a break, can never dig himself out of his hole he was born into, even though he tries. He was supposed to be past the shame and failure and the mistakes that hardly seem to be his own and that unravel beyond his control.”

I won’t give the ending away because its a story you should read. Amadeo is a hard character to like. I constantly found myself thinking, “why can’t you just get yourself together and do what you know is good or right”. Then, while reading Romans 7, I was reminded, harshly, that I am just like Amadeo. “I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate; I desire what is right, but I cannot do it. For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do.”

Don’t we all have that inner struggle of wanting to do one thing, yet somehow doing the opposite. You want to be a better friend, spouse, parent, child, or neighbor. You don’t want to lose your temper, or down that drink, or take that pill, or go to that website. You want to stand up for justice, to speak out against racism, read your Bible or pray more. And yet, somehow, we do the very thing we didn’t want to do.

Not a night goes by where I don’t think to myself, tomorrow is the day; tomorrow I will be more patient when Clive screams in his carseat; tomorrow I’ll eat better and walk more; tomorrow I’ll call that friend; I’ll be a better husband, a better pastor, a better Christian and I’ll do the good I desperately want to do. And without fail, the next day I do the opposite of what I wanted.

It's exhausting, is it not? To try and fail, try and fail, piling on more guilt and shame atop of the already crushing load you're carrying. If that is you this morning, if you are tired, weary, struggling with your own disappointment, hear Jesus' invitation to you: “Come to me, all you that are weary and carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest”.

Jesus takes our sin, our heavy loads, all the guilt we shoulder, and bears them on the cross, putting to death what we could not. In exchange, Jesus says, “Take my yoke (my teaching, my forgiveness, my grace) and learn from me (I know you want to live differently, let me show you how. I’ll not only show you, but I’ll empower you to do the good you long to do. And when you mess up or you don’t get it right, don’t fear or despair, rather hear the invitation to come to me afresh, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your soul through me.

But wait!, you say, “doesn’t Paul say that it's not me that's the problem but sin that dwells within me?!”. Yes, but this is not Biblical precedent to say “its just how I am”. Paul also writes, “Nothing good dwells within me, that is, in my flesh.” To be clear, one’s flesh is not the same as one’s body. There is enough bad theology out there that says our bodies are bad. No, our bodies are good and holy, created by God. Flesh, according to Paul, are the desires we have that go against the good we know, causing the inner struggle we are all too familiar with. Yet, only by the forgiveness and grace of God are we no longer enslaved to our flesh.

Perhaps some of you are wondering this morning, is this invitation for me? Maybe my burden isn’t heavy enough or I’ve not tried hard enough. Jesus gives no qualifiers on “weary” or “carrying heavy burdens”. He gives no further description, no criteria to be met. He doesn’t say you have to be this tired, your burden needs to weigh this much, or that you must carry your load for so long. Jesus simply says “you who are tired, weary, carrying a heavy load, come to me, all of you, no one is excluded from this invitation and no amount is too many.”

“How” you ask, “how can I come to Jesus?” First, if you are asking that question, I’m confident that the Holy Spirit is already at work in you. Secondly, in our cries for forgiveness, in our laments for help, in our coming to the table, we are responding to the invitation. But lastly, perhaps it’s not so much us “coming to Jesus” as it is Jesus coming to us.

As Soren Keirkegaard puts it, Jesus “does not merely stand and wait, he goes to seek the sinner as the shepherd sought the strayed sheep, as the woman sought the lost penny. He has walked infinitely farther than any shepherd and any woman. He walked the infinitely long way from being God to becoming a person, he walked all that way in order to seek us… so do not stand still and hesitate… even if it seems as if you could not succeed in taking one more step, could not keep on one moment longer without collapsing, Come. Yet, if there is someone so sorrowful that they cannot come, a sigh is enough; sighing for Jesus is to draw near.”

Hear and heed the invitation, whether you run, walk, crawl, or sigh: “Come to me, all of you, and I will give you rest.” Amen.