July 13, 2008
Ninth Sunday after Pentecost
Pastor Anita Hill
Matthew 13:1-9
Grace and peace to you from God our Creator, Christ, and Holy Spirit. Amen
We have a huge cottonwood tree in our backyard. Some years the white fluffy puffs that carry the seeds make our whole neighborhood look like a spring snow shower in June. It’s beautiful. And it’s a big mess. But is accomplishes its goal of spreading life abundantly through its seeds. That cottonwood tree is determined to spread its seeds far and wide. Let them land where they may. The tree and the wind do what they can to spread them.
Jesus’ parable of the sower, the seed, and the kinds of soil provide us with a glimpse of the immensity of God’s grace, and the willingness of God to spread the seeds of new life, of hope, of promise in as wild a way as the Scriptures describe that the rains fall on the just and the unjust alike.
Our tree is like that. It produces a ka-zillion seeds every year. Some of them begin to grow in our gardens and in the grass. Most don’t survive the whirring of the lawn mower blades. Many are pulled up by my neighbors, who are more attentive to pulling weeds than I’ll ever be.
But it doesn’t matter that the vast majority of the seeds do not become trees. The huge cottonwood tree keeps on producing seeds year after year. That tree is a metaphor for me of the vastness of God’s love, and of the lengths God goes to year after year, day after day, to let us know we are loved. God’s love just keeps on coming.
Some of the seeds are quickly eaten up by birds. These seeds may have a better chance of growing up because the birds deposit them farther from the tree, with their own splat of moisture and fertilizer to help them on their way. Sometimes it’s messy.
That’s how the Spirit is in our midst. Sometimes it’s messy. Last week, at the Hearts on Fire Assembly of Lutherans Concerned in San Francisco, Episcopal Bishop Gene Robinson gave a keynote speech. In it, he told us about a pastor in Florida who wanted to make a point on Pentecost Sunday. The pastor got one of those big fans from one of on those flat-bottomed airboats used in the Everglades. He and his Deacon installed it securely on the balcony railing. They gave it a test run on Saturday afternoon and the effect of the wind blowing was spectacular, including the roaring sound it made. They were pleased with their big surprise.
On Pentecost morning, at the appropriate moment in the reading from Acts, the Deacon started up the motor. The sound was startling and the wind began to blow. But this time the church was full of people. The balcony held the choir members and all their music. Pages went flying out across the congregation like parade confetti. A toupee, whipped forward to the chancel. It wasn’t the only hairpiece to stand on end. Anything that was not securely fastened went flying through the sanctuary above a startles congregation. Sometimes the workings of the Spirit are messy, indeed.
Might I offer one more garden example? This is the first summer that we’ve have had a compost bin. I’m aware more than ever that it can be a messy and sometimes stinky process to make good soil! We use the things considered “throw-aways” like banana peels, eggshells, apple cores, the rind of cantaloupe and watermelon. We add in grass clippings, leaves, and the weeds we pull from the garden. And in a few months, we will find good soil at the bottom of the compost bin that we can use to make our gardens better.
This reminds me that even when we’ve done things that make us feel like we are nothing more than “throw- aways” that should belong in the compost heap, God can make something useful of us. When we’ve struggled with addictions, dealt with grief; been held captive by mental illness, fought with terminal illness, lost our home, our job, our spouse, we are still precious in the heart and mind of God. When we allow ourselves to be heated up in the compost of our lives, stirred with Word of God, and blown by the Holy Spirit, we become good soil. When we open our senses to the seeds God plants in us and in our community every week, we become good soil.
God sows seeds everywhere. So what if some fall on the path? Get eaten by birds? Fall on rocky ground? Land on shallow people or places? God’s grace comes to us all, deserving or not (because, no one is really deserving, nor can we earn God’s grace). That’s one of the bases of our Lutheran faith. The confirmation quote says: “We are justified by grace through faith.” There is nothing we can do to earn God’s grace. It is pure gift from God offered to us without exception.
When we tell someone how we’ve experienced God in our lives, when we share how we see God in creation, when we care for our neighbors in the world, we join the Cosmic Sower of the seeds of God’s promise. As we live our lives of prayer and service, we become good soil ready for the calling God plants in us and our congregation.
In Jesus’ parable, the farmer tosses out seed even where common sense says it’s useless. Even so, God brings about amazing abundance: a harvest of thirty, sixty, and a hundred times what he sowed. God’s goodness and mercy is infinite. God’s gift of grace is extravagant and free.
The kingdom of God has come among us. God has blessed us richly, and God’s people have been entrusted with that which is most precious in the world. We are simply asked to spread the seed we’ve been given. The sower of creation casts the seed wide and far.
Martin Luther taught us we are all simultaneously saint and sinner. We can’t tell who will receive God as good soil, as rocky ground, or hardened path. We are to treat every person as a beloved child of God because that’s what God does. We are to care for our neighbor and to love them as we love ourselves.
We are called to spread God’s justice; called to share God’s blessing. We are called to spread these precious gifts as if they came from a vast supply. That’s because they do. They really do come from God’s limitless grace. Such is the wisdom of God.
Like the confetti flying across that Florida church, God spreads seeds of hope.
Like the blanket of June snow from the cottonwood tree, God covers us with love.
Such is the promise of God. Amen