7 Pentecost

 
July 12, 2026

 Matthew 13:1-9,18-23

 I am not a garden person.

 I just have never been the kind of person who likes to spend time in a garden, planting seeds and watching things grow.

 I’ve tried.

 I once tried to start an herb garden years and years ago.

 But there came this point when I couldn’t tell the difference between hat was a weed and what was an herb.

 So, I just let it go.

 And you can guess how that ended.

 So, all this talk today in our Gospel reading about sowers and seeds is kind of lost on me.

 I will say this, though.

 At first glance, the parable of the sower is one of those stories that sounds simple.

 I kind of get it.

 But then, we realize, that’s not the way Jesus does things.

 Nothing is ever really simple.

 And as we all know, Jesus refuses to explain everything away.

 In this parable, he speaks of seed scattered everywhere.

 Some fall on the path.

 Some on rocky ground.

 Some among thorns.

 Some on good soil.

 And then he simply says:

 “Let anyone with ears listen.”

 What a strange thing to say!

 It leaves us wondering.

 For us, no doubt we start asking ourselves, What kind of soil am I?

 But perhaps maybe that’s not the real first question we should be asking.

 Maybe the first thing we should do is notice how extravagance the sower is.

 Again, not an expert here, but. . .

 I don’t think a careful farmer would scatter seed on a hard path or among rocks and thorns. 

Even I know that!

 It would be a waste.

 It would be a waste of time.

 And it would be a waste of money.

 But you know who does sow like this?

 God does.

 Because, the kingdom of God is to be announced everywhere.

 Even on the hard path.

 Even among rocks and thorns.

 Grace—this wonderful un-asked for gift from God--the very seed of that Kindom of God,  is scattered wherever.

 Without calculation.

 God’s grace is offered to everyone—to saints and doubters, to the faithful and the indifferent, to those who are ready and to those who are not.

 God, as I hope we all realize, is astonishingly generous.

 And only after this talk of seeds and sowing does Jesus speak about the soil.

 And that is where the parable quietly becomes uncomfortable.

 Because good soil doesn’t always just happen.

 Or rather, good soil can be made in places where we thought it couldn’t.

 A hard path can be broken open.

 Rocky ground can be cleared.

 Thorns can be pulled.

 Good soil is cultivated.

 Following Jesus is not about pretending our hearts are already fertile.

 It is about allowing God, often painfully, to prepare us for what has always been freely given.

 Certainly, most of us know exactly what thorns feel like.

 Anxiety.

 Depression.

 Endless distraction.

 The desire to acquire just a little more.

 The need to always be right.

 The fear that there will never be enough.

 Jesus tells us that these things choke the seed before it can bear fruit.

 Notice he doesn’t say that they destroy the seed.

 They simply keep it from growing.

 And perhaps that is the greater danger.

 Maybe the greater danger is becoming so crowded with other concerns that we no longer have room for God’s grace to take hold in our lives and flourish.

 But, we have to be clear before we start to despair over this parable.

 This parable is actually full of hope.

 The seed itself is alive.

 Its power doesn’t come from us.

 Our task isn’t to manufacture life.

 Our task is simply to remain open to the One who never stops sowing.

 Every Sunday, the Word is scattered again.

 Every Eucharist, grace is scattered again.

 Every morning, God begins again in us.

 The Sower has not given up on the field.

 Or on us.

 And that’s the real message of this parable.

 Amen.