May
we all flourish under your care, O God, that we may grow like the palms and
cedars, producing fruits of righteousness and proclaiming your goodness like
healthy, green leaves, in our lives. Amen.
This is yet another service where I
hear the famed (or infamous) Parable of the Sower. I can’t tell you how many
times I have heard this parable, especially being read in the (usually) boring
ways that people of the collar are wont to do. I can’t tell you how many times
I have heard the exact same sermon being read, probably because Jesus provides
preachers with enough clues about what to say. As a music director, when
planning for the next few Sundays, I was upset to see that this exhausted
reading was coming up. When reading through the Gospels, I oftentimes read the
first few phrases and skip it to get to something that hasn’t been beaten to
death in pulpits, auditoriums, or even blog posts. In fact, for me, this
parable falls on me like a seed that falls upon a bed of clay.
“We
are the soil…” These are words that I have heard in pretty much every single
one of these ruminations on this parable, probably because that is what one can
draw from reading Jesus’ explanation of this parable. But, as far as I know,
soil does not fix itself. As Paul wrote in 1 Corinthians 3:7, “God…gives the
growth.” And at the time, people probably didn’t understand the specific
details about mycorrhizal structures and the nutrients, but they knew that God
provided what was needed in the soil in order for crops to thrive. In fact, in
the Pentateuch, or the Torah, God commands the Israelites to be careful with
exhausting the soil, commanding something along the lines of crop rotations.
But this is all to say that we
are responsible for the soil. If we say and understand that we are the soil, it
might seem impossible for us to conceive being able to prepare our minds and
hearts to receive the word of God.
I have been gardening for over a year and a half
now, and I still consider myself a beginner. However, just by starting on this
journey, the different metaphors in the Bible speak to me in different ways. Now,
this parable focuses on the soil, a substance that has been on my mind this
whole time. When I read and watch videos about how to start gardening, it is
often described as something very plain and simple: dig a hole, plant a seed or
starter, and water when it needs it. However, the soil all around my house is dense,
compacted, exhausted, clay. Shoving a shovel into the ground is a chore all
on its own, and when it rains (a very frequent occasion here in Houston), the
shovel sticks to the clay, and the clay piles on. Oftentimes, in order to dig
anything, I need yet another tool, a trowel, to dig and scrape off the clay
from the shovel! After trying to get some gardening started around my house, I
started to wonder, “why is all this soil clay‽” I just couldn’t stand the fact that I had to do so
much extra work in order to get this garden started.
Much of my gardening has required me to do one of
three things: dig out the clay and replace it with new soil, add new soil above
the clay, or plant in pots. The former two add up quite a bit (I can’t believe
how expensive soil is!), and the latter is pretty good, unless I want a shrub
or tree to grow quickly, and it still requires me to buy new soil. This past
week, my dad was asking me what I wanted for my birthday, and he jokingly
suggested he’d get a truckload of dirt delivered to my house, and I responded,
“actually, that would be a great gift!”
This past winter, I tried planting some bulbs, and
after being fed up with having to deal with the clay soil, I decided to dig up
the clay, toss it around a little to break up the clumps, and just place the
bulbs wherever and hope for the best. I probably planted 50 bulbs, but I ended
up with 3 flowers.
Again, I ask, “why is all this soil clay‽” But
then, I have learned that in order to build houses, in order to give them a
good foundation, there has to be clay. Otherwise, the house would become
unsettled, and the walls would probably start cracking, among many other
problems. And, I thank God that our house has been fine for the most part. So,
having to deal with the clay doesn’t feel as mindless. But, it is still work
that I have to do in order to tend to a garden.
As I said before, this Parable of the Sower has
begun to feel like a seed sown in clay. The nutrients have been taken out, the
soil has been abandoned, and now there is a resistance to this seed, to the
point that it can suffocate if it even tried to germinate and grow. But what do
we need to do in order for this clay to be hospitable to the word?
For one, I would really appreciate if people would
give a better effort to reading the Word of God out loud. From my understanding
of the history of the Scriptures, all of these were spoken words first before
being written down, and they have always been meant to be read out loud.
Unfortunately, what I have found in most Episcopal churches is that people will
read the Bible in a monotone, oftentimes glossing over punctuation, phrasing,
and emotions. When I read through the Bible, it usually seems that people were
excited whenever they proclaimed their words, and oftentimes the writers of the
Bible describe those emotions. Prophets often made fools of themselves just to
make a point to anybody who would listen. Royalty would yell at subjects to
keep them down. Jesus would proclaim in different places a radical message that
was meant to challenge those in power, oftentimes calling out everything that
was comfortable. Paul’s language and word choice in his writings are very
pointed, and yet I have heard readers just act as if they were reading off some
sort of shopping list to a congregation. We need that same energy to come from
our readers.
I’ve been an Episcopalian my whole life, and I have
heard many Bible stories, especially during Sunday school. I remember one day I
was in a retreat on racial reconciliation, and Kathy Culmer was retelling the
story of creation, something I had grown up hearing time and again. Yet, when
she recited it, she spoke with so much emotion, so much urgency, that I was
driven to tears. The words that I had heard so many times and had grown annoyed
with, all of a sudden, became something that struck me to my core. She had the
way to plant the word of God deep into my being.
Now to talk about this particular parable. What
does it mean to tend to the soil in order to nurture the seed, the Word of God?
Well, for one thing, we need to look deeply and honestly at what our soil even
is. When the construction workers of Sugar Land were trying to build a bunch of
houses in the middle of what used to be farmland, they made sure that there was
a foundational level of clay soil in order to support the new buildings. But,
when I wanted to plant some of my mom’s favorite flowers in that same soil, the
clay no longer cut it. I still have to amend the soil with fresh nutrients, the
waste of animals that forage on dead leaves, with mulch for the moisture, with
so many other things. What are the things that have become compacted and
exhausted of nutrients in our churches? How about the music? How about the
prayers?
Around 500 years ago, when electricity was just the
anger and whim of God, the organ rose as a marvel of technology and
architecture. As churches wanted to show off their wealth, they built organs.
Both outside and inside the churches, short, repetitive tunes, became popular
ways of singing poetry—hymns, if I may. As the tastes in classical music began
to embrace different timbres and different instruments, people added onto the
organs to make them appeal to this variety of sounds. Choirs grew, and the
style of music began to become more measured, just like how much of the music
outside the churches did. I wish I could point out what happened in the 20th
century, but I do not understand why church music began to depart from the other
tastes in music that were popular outside the church walls. However, when Negro
Spirituals and jazz roots began to influence Gospel music, many Episcopal
churches said “No!”. When African rhythms, Indigenous instruments, and other
languages, especially Spanish, began to give rise to new sacred music, many
Episcopal churches said, “No!”. When Asian Christians went into the Christian
communities all across East and Southeast Asia and brought back the music that
had become integral to their worship, informing the communities here in the US,
many Episcopal churches said “No!”. When Christian musicians, born and raised
in the US, learned to sing music, to dance, to play it on guitars, banjos,
different percussion instruments, and who knows what else, many Episcopal
churches said “No!”. We have a nearly 40 year old Hymnal that is filled with
“No!” to other cultures, but “Yes!” to Anglocentrism—yes to British folk tunes,
yes to Lutheran dance melodies, yes to American pseudo-chants. Our voices, the
voices of the oppressed, have been canceled
throughout this Church’s history! That is a clay soil we need to fix.
Also,
about 500 years ago, a number of theologians started wondering, “what would
happen if we started to worship in our vernacular languages? What would happen
if we started to worship with our own culture represented?” Some of those
theologians began a project that became the Book of Common Prayer. Yet,
nowadays, after having a tradition of revisions for nearly 400 years, and after
relying on the same one for over 40 years, we are so resistant to incorporating
prayers from other cultures. I hear time and again, “If we allow for this
prayer/feast/language to happen, it will open up the floodgates.” Let me tell
you, the floodgates only burst open like that when they have been shut for much
too long. If we have been building this Church on a floodplain that has been
devoid of water that comes from just on the other side of the floodgates, the
water that becomes toxic to those upriver because it has nowhere else to go. If
we rely on shutting all of that out, then definitely, it’s time to flood the
Church with all that has been missing this whole time. Racism holds up the
floods of people who need Jesus. Homophobia holds up the floods of people
feeling that they are born just to be condemned to Hell. Transphobia holds up
the floods of people who seek communion with God. The plutocracy within this
Church has been holding up the floods of people who cannot have a voice just
because they are poor.
In
fact, of all the things that Jesus points to in this parable, the most concrete
image is that of wealth. It is the lure of wealth that chokes out the word of
God, and I know that the lure of wealth has been choking this Church for years.
Now is the time to give to those who need it. Now is the time to open up the
floodgates. Now is the time to break the soil that has been compacted by
hording up wealth, privileging people with certain theologies or influences,
and really tend to the soil. Now is the time to scrape our hands against the
thorns that cover the soil, now is the time for us to bleed as we clear the way
for the rich nutrients, and, even more so, for the good seeds of God’s Word.
We
have become too comfortable as a Church to the point that there is very little
that can grow in the soil that we have control over. When we have programs for
evangelism led by white people, made in an institution headed by white people,
in order for mostly white people to learn how to minister to white people, only
the same white plant will grow. It will take root at the surface, flower for a
moment, and then die away; a yield of just onefold.
When
we have theology that involves just talking to white people about issues of
racism, sexism, homophobia, and a host of other issues, we will just get the
same white answer. Even now, we have people of color who are trying to blend in
with this theology by accepting the white model. Rather than inculturate and bring
our experiences to the meeting tables, the ones in those fancy hotels or
neo-gothic buildings, where money just seems to be in the air we breathe, some
of us are just accepting this white, exclusive model in order to make it in
this institution. It’s so difficult to survive in an institution where racism
and classism are key. However, when we take a moment to start tearing this
down, when we take time to tend to the soil, cut off the weeds and thorns, when
we take time to dig deep and really fix the underlying problems that restrict
all sorts of growth, then we will be able to witness the growth.
You
see, there are already people doing the work, the arduous work of cracking the
clay, of mixing in the nutrients, of adding that good soil that others have
created, of renewing all that we need for this garden to thrive. There are
people calling out racism, calling for change, and there are people who are
actually explaining what exactly to do! There are books out there, podcasts,
videos, sermons, workshops, that are already out there to help make this all
happen. However, when we receive these seeds, we need to tend to our own soil,
to all that we have allowed to happen. Do we know if the soil in our lives is
exhausted? We have to look at what we do. Are we doing the same thing, reading
the same passages, reciting the same prayers, preaching the same sermons? Even
in Jesus’ lifetime, in the three year period of the Gospels, we read that Jesus
had to teach those who were already “in the know” in so many different ways.
There are parables, like the one we read today, and there are exhortations,
condemnations, calls to action, healings, miracles, and so many other things: all
in three years. Now let’s look at our own lives. Are we doing the same
thing over and over again? Perhaps we need to refresh our soil. Perhaps we need
to find the shovels and trowels to dig deep. This will never be a one time
thing. Let us remember that our faith is living, and the Sower continues to
sow. It is time for us to prepare our soil for the Word.
