Fertility Facts
Stories
Lectionary Tales For The Pulpit
Series VI, Cycle A
Object:
Bible scholars tell us Matthew's gospel was compiled and distributed around 85 AD. The early church had expanded beyond Jerusalem through the missionary efforts of Paul and others but was still rather minuscule in terms of numbers and influence. There was opposition and even some persecution at the hands of political and religious establishments. It was a time when discouragement could have easily overcome that small band of believers.
These were the people for whom Matthew was writing, and this section of the gospel was organized just for them. In chapter 11, Jesus confronts political opposition as Herod arrests and murders John the Baptist. In chapter 12, he faces religious opposition as the scribes and Pharisees challenge him and even suggest he is in league with the devil himself. Now we come to chapter 13 and a series of parables. The order of arrangement is no accident -- coming on the heels of these accounts of continuous opposition, the stories were meant to address that concern.
This first one, the parable of the sower, is the most familiar, (although considering the emphasis of the story, it should probably be called the parable of the soils). It uses imagery that is familiar in agricultural Palestine. It offers an automatic four-point outline. And finally, for those who fear offering an incorrect interpretation, there is (supposedly) Jesus' own explanation of the meaning of the four types of soil (but most scholars insist that the explanation is an addendum provided by a later editor).
Start with the imagery. As Jesus sat in that boat, he may well have seen a farmer off in the distance going about his work, scattering seed by hand. The field would have been one of many long narrow strips with the ground between serving as a right-of-way, a three-foot wide common path, beaten as hard as pavement by the feet of countless passers-by. If seed fell there, and some was bound to, there was no more chance of its penetrating into the earth than if it had fallen on concrete.
Then there was rocky ground, a thin skin of earth on top of an underlying shelf of limestone rock. The earth might be only a few inches deep before the rock was reached. Seed could certainly germinate, because the ground would grow warm quickly with the heat of the sun. But there was no depth of earth and when a plant sent down its roots in search of nourishment and moisture, it would meet only the rock. It would swiftly starve, shrivel, and die.
Thorny ground? Deceptive. When the sower was sowing, the ground would look clean enough. It is easy to make a garden look clean by simply turning it over, but in the ground still lay the fibrous roots of the all the perennial weedy pests, ready to spring to life again. Every gardener knows that the weeds grow with a speed and strength that few good seeds can equal. The result was that the good seed and the dormant weeds grew together, but the weeds were so strong that they throttled the life out of the seed.
Finally, the good ground, deep and clean and soft. The seed could gain an entry, find nourishment, and grow unchecked. In the good ground, the seed brought forth an abundant harvest.
Suddenly the preacher thunders, "And what type of soil are you?" (Isn't that the way it is supposed to go?) First, there are those whose minds are shut, those into whom the seed of an idea has no more chance of taking root than the seed that falls onto a path beaten hard by many feet. Is that you? Then there is the one whose mind is like the shallow ground, someone who follows the fads, responds to the emotion of the moment, who takes something up quickly and just as quickly drops it. Is that you? Or there is that busy, busy, busy individual who has so many irons in the fire, so many interests in life, that often the most important things get crowded out. Is that you? Finally, the good ground, the fertile mind -- like good soil, it is open, deep, and uncluttered. A word from the Lord will take root there and bear an abundant harvest. Is that you?
Well, to be painfully honest, I am all of them. There are times when someone speaks to me that they may as well be talking to a wall. For whatever reason, I do not hear what they are saying. The seed is falling on the path. There are times when an idea comes that I latch right on with enthusiasm but there is no follow-through. It dies away, as on rocky ground. My life is busy, as is yours. Everyone knows we have far less leisure time than we used to. Good ideas come, and they begin to take root, but with so many competing claims on me, they fade and eventually wither. Thorny ground. Finally, yes, there are times when something comes along that takes root -- it grows and blossoms and produces abundantly. I wish that such were always the case, but....
Frankly, we could listen to 1,000 sermons on these soil types and still be the same mixtures as we are -- part and parcel of being human. That is one of the things that convinces me that Jesus had something else in mind when he told this story.
Another is the placement of the parable in the gospel narrative. This is right after accounts of opposition, and the first in a series of vignettes that describe the sure and certain victory of the kingdom of God.
One more thing convinces me: Jesus was a good storyteller, and good storytellers know that you cannot make a multitude of points in a story and have any hope of your listeners remembering them. Jesus had a point to make here, not a whole list of them.
For Matthew's audience of good church people who, for various and sundry reasons, might be a bit discouraged, the point comes right at the end. The harvest -- the amazing harvest. Thirtyfold, sixtyfold, a hundredfold, a harvest of four- to tenfold was considered normal, with a harvest of fifteen times what was sown being exceptionally good. Who was responsible for such a thing? The sower? Of course not. It could be none other than God, it always has been, it always will be. Even when we figure it is all up to us. Fertility facts of the kingdom.
These were the people for whom Matthew was writing, and this section of the gospel was organized just for them. In chapter 11, Jesus confronts political opposition as Herod arrests and murders John the Baptist. In chapter 12, he faces religious opposition as the scribes and Pharisees challenge him and even suggest he is in league with the devil himself. Now we come to chapter 13 and a series of parables. The order of arrangement is no accident -- coming on the heels of these accounts of continuous opposition, the stories were meant to address that concern.
This first one, the parable of the sower, is the most familiar, (although considering the emphasis of the story, it should probably be called the parable of the soils). It uses imagery that is familiar in agricultural Palestine. It offers an automatic four-point outline. And finally, for those who fear offering an incorrect interpretation, there is (supposedly) Jesus' own explanation of the meaning of the four types of soil (but most scholars insist that the explanation is an addendum provided by a later editor).
Start with the imagery. As Jesus sat in that boat, he may well have seen a farmer off in the distance going about his work, scattering seed by hand. The field would have been one of many long narrow strips with the ground between serving as a right-of-way, a three-foot wide common path, beaten as hard as pavement by the feet of countless passers-by. If seed fell there, and some was bound to, there was no more chance of its penetrating into the earth than if it had fallen on concrete.
Then there was rocky ground, a thin skin of earth on top of an underlying shelf of limestone rock. The earth might be only a few inches deep before the rock was reached. Seed could certainly germinate, because the ground would grow warm quickly with the heat of the sun. But there was no depth of earth and when a plant sent down its roots in search of nourishment and moisture, it would meet only the rock. It would swiftly starve, shrivel, and die.
Thorny ground? Deceptive. When the sower was sowing, the ground would look clean enough. It is easy to make a garden look clean by simply turning it over, but in the ground still lay the fibrous roots of the all the perennial weedy pests, ready to spring to life again. Every gardener knows that the weeds grow with a speed and strength that few good seeds can equal. The result was that the good seed and the dormant weeds grew together, but the weeds were so strong that they throttled the life out of the seed.
Finally, the good ground, deep and clean and soft. The seed could gain an entry, find nourishment, and grow unchecked. In the good ground, the seed brought forth an abundant harvest.
Suddenly the preacher thunders, "And what type of soil are you?" (Isn't that the way it is supposed to go?) First, there are those whose minds are shut, those into whom the seed of an idea has no more chance of taking root than the seed that falls onto a path beaten hard by many feet. Is that you? Then there is the one whose mind is like the shallow ground, someone who follows the fads, responds to the emotion of the moment, who takes something up quickly and just as quickly drops it. Is that you? Or there is that busy, busy, busy individual who has so many irons in the fire, so many interests in life, that often the most important things get crowded out. Is that you? Finally, the good ground, the fertile mind -- like good soil, it is open, deep, and uncluttered. A word from the Lord will take root there and bear an abundant harvest. Is that you?
Well, to be painfully honest, I am all of them. There are times when someone speaks to me that they may as well be talking to a wall. For whatever reason, I do not hear what they are saying. The seed is falling on the path. There are times when an idea comes that I latch right on with enthusiasm but there is no follow-through. It dies away, as on rocky ground. My life is busy, as is yours. Everyone knows we have far less leisure time than we used to. Good ideas come, and they begin to take root, but with so many competing claims on me, they fade and eventually wither. Thorny ground. Finally, yes, there are times when something comes along that takes root -- it grows and blossoms and produces abundantly. I wish that such were always the case, but....
Frankly, we could listen to 1,000 sermons on these soil types and still be the same mixtures as we are -- part and parcel of being human. That is one of the things that convinces me that Jesus had something else in mind when he told this story.
Another is the placement of the parable in the gospel narrative. This is right after accounts of opposition, and the first in a series of vignettes that describe the sure and certain victory of the kingdom of God.
One more thing convinces me: Jesus was a good storyteller, and good storytellers know that you cannot make a multitude of points in a story and have any hope of your listeners remembering them. Jesus had a point to make here, not a whole list of them.
For Matthew's audience of good church people who, for various and sundry reasons, might be a bit discouraged, the point comes right at the end. The harvest -- the amazing harvest. Thirtyfold, sixtyfold, a hundredfold, a harvest of four- to tenfold was considered normal, with a harvest of fifteen times what was sown being exceptionally good. Who was responsible for such a thing? The sower? Of course not. It could be none other than God, it always has been, it always will be. Even when we figure it is all up to us. Fertility facts of the kingdom.
