The Parable of the Sower–Proper 10, Year A, July 10, 2011

Proper 10, Yr A

July 10, 2011

Well, it’s summer in Madison. Life has slowed down just a bit, except on the square where summer means a never-ending succession of events that disrupt parking and help to keep attendance down at Grace. Though, truth be told, we use it as a convenient excuse, that and the heat. Chances are, even if there were plenty of parking for anyone who wanted a spot, our attendance would still be lower in the summer than in the rest of the year. That’s the way it works in pretty much every other church.

It’s summer, and we have entered, at last, the long months of what in the Catholic liturgical calendar, is called ordinary time. From now until the beginning of Advent, we will be paying close attention to Jesus’ ministry as recounted in the Gospel of Matthew. We will also be hearing, week by week, stories from the Hebrew Bible, where this week, we hear of the birth of Jacob.

Summer, Ordinary Time, also means that we will hear a number of Jesus’ parables, beginning with the familiar one we heard today. Because we will be reading a number of the parables over the course of the next months, it might be helpful to remind ourselves of what the parables are and why they are important. Parables are stories that Jesus used to explain the nature of the Kingdom or Reign of God. In fact, he introduces several of them by saying the “Reign of God is like… and then goes on to tell the story. So the first thing to note is that the parables are meant to teach Jesus’ listeners, what the reign of God is like.

The second thing to note is that the parables are meant to be surprising; they are meant to challenge the listener to look at the world from a completely different perspective. This may be difficult for us, because many of us have heard these stories countless times, we could probably tell some of them by heart. But it’s important for us to try to recapture the strangeness of the parables in order to make them live again, and in order to discover what Jesus meant by preaching the Reign of God.

To do this, I am going to tell you the story of the sower again; this time without the editorial context in which Matthew put it, and without the second half of the story, the interpretation that Jesus offered his disciples when they asked him what it meant. It’s likely that these words of interpretation were not said by Jesus himself, but were the attempt of Christians a generation or two later, to understand the story and to put it in a meaningful context for this new community of faith.

So here is probably what the parable sounded like in its original form:

“Listen! A sower went out to sow. And as he sowed, some seeds fell on the 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. Let anyone with ears listen!”

Now, hearing the story in this way should raise numerous questions, but in case you think its meaning is obvious, let me ask you two questions. The first is, are any of you vegetable gardeners? If so, would any of you behave the way the sower does in this parable?

I could ask it another way. Are any of you farmers; well unless we have visitors, I know the answer to that question; but since we’re in Wisconsin, I assume most of you have some familiarity with modern agricultural practices, and you know that no farmer even in this day and age would act quite like the sower does in this parable. But do you know how farmers in the days before modern agribusiness did their work? I’ve heard stories about how my grandfather carefully selected his seed corn from the biggest ears, so I know how important that seed was to him and farmers before WW II. I’m also a historian, so I’ve read about how European peasants, and yes, Palestinian peasants in the Roman period operated. Of course the seed for next year’s planting came out of this year’s harvest, and even when harvests were relatively good, there was a difficult choice to make between having enough grain to make flour to feed one’s family, or saving enough seed to make sure you would be able to plant a crop in the next season.

In other words, this sower is behaving in completely non-sensical ways. Given the value of the seeds, he would not be so careless as to allow seed to go to waste by flinging it on rocks, or on a compacted path, or among weeds.

The sheer profligacy of the sower’s actions only become clear when we interpret it against this backdrop of subsistence farming and the annual reality that there might not be enough grain to feed one’s family or to sow the next year’s crop. Seen this way, the sower’s actions are so out of character, so unpredictable and unnatural that we can begin to tease out the parable’s meaning from those very actions.

For it is the case, that seen in this light, there is often, perhaps almost always, unexpected and unpredicted behavior in the parables. Yet, this reality may not bring us any closer to their meaning. Jesus often introduces his parables by saying, “the kingdom of God is like…” So how is the kingdom of God like a sower who acts irrationally and unexpectedly, with such extravagance and profligacy? Or, to put it another way, what does this parable tell us about God, God’s vision for the world and for human community?

Asked in this way, the parable invites us to imagine, to believe in a God who acts in ways completely counter to our values and expectations. We live in a world in which religion, especially Christianity, seems to be consumed with establishing barriers between those who are in and those who are out, between true and false belief, moral and immoral action. Many of us may be repulsed by such forms of Christianity, but that is the public face of our faith. Yet the God of Jesus Christ is not a God who puts barriers between us and them. Far from it. Jesus Christ preached a gospel of inclusion and welcome; the kingdom of God he proclaimed imagines a world in which all creation is embraced by God’s love.

As hard as that is for us to conceive as we look out at a broken and hurting world, it is often even more difficult to imagine when we look inside ourselves. We are often apt to hear words of judgment on our selves, our actions, know our own broken and hurting selves, and assume that God rejects us. But that’s not the case either. Whatever we have done in the past, all of the hurt and brokenness we have caused, indeed all of the hurt and brokenness that we experience in our own lives, all of that we can bring to God, and find love and acceptance.

To experience that love is what God’s reign is all about; to know, and love a God whose love towards us is as profligate and expansive as the seed thrown by the sower on good and bad soil, to love that God is what our faith proclaims. That message, God’s expansive love and accepting love, is also our duty to proclaim and share in this broken and hurting world.

 

The International House of Prayer?

There’s a profile in The New York Times of Mike Bickle and the International House of Prayer. New to me, apparently it is a ministry he began in 1999 that emphasizes around-the-clock prayer and worship. Those who come from across the country (and world?) find here the sort of direct experience of God, “visceral communion,” that they might not achieve elsewhere. Bickle claims to be non-political, but there are links between his group and Texas Governor Rick Perry’s planned day of prayer in Houston. Bickle believes that fervent prayer can accelerate the Second Coming, which he believes will occur within the next fifty years.

The International House of Pancakes has filed a trademark infringement suit.

It’s somewhat reassuring to know that America continues to be an incubator for new and unexpected forms of Christianity.

Predictably, the article also cites detractors and claims of “cult-like” behavior among participants and allusions to brainwashing (though that word is never used). The author also refers to past controversies in which Bickle was involved.

The google-fication of life

I read this post on Patheos about the effects of Google’s complex algorithms on our world. It turns out that our search results are constantly being recalibrated to conform more closely to our interests. In other words, if you and I put in the same search term into Google, we might get completely different results. It’s not just the Internet, of course. We do the same with other media, including the news. Commenters have lamented for some time that some people only watch Fox News, while others restrict themselves to CNN or MSNBC.

This reality came home to me this week, when numerous Facebook friends suddenly expressed their outrage over the not-guilty verdict in the Casey Anthony trial. I had no idea what they were talking about. Who’s she, I wondered. Apparently it was the trial of the century. I missed it, and more surprisingly, I missed the entire event, from its beginning.

The Internet has allowed me to become much more selective in what I read and follow. Google Reader keeps me up to date with all of the blogs and other sites I follow, and I don’t have to go fishing for information. I read what looks interesting to me and ignore the rest. I suppose on one level that’s not so different now than it was twenty-five years ago, when I got my news from NPR, the Boston Globe, the New York Times, and watched CNN only when there was some major event taking place. Still, even then I would have been aware of stories that caught the nation’s attention, even if I had little interest in it–like, say, the OJ Simpson trial.

 

First Monday in July

In July, our First Monday fell on the 4th. We entertained about 70 guests with bluegrass music, brats, sauerkraut, and poundcake with ice cream. Thanks to all of our volunteers, and to the vendors. The brats and buns came from Mad Dog’s Eatery on N. Henry St.; the sauerkraut came from Porchlight Products, and the ice cream was from Sassy Cow Creamery.

Thanks to everyone who helped out and those who were willing to volunteer but weren’t needed. See you next month!

Here are pictures:

For I do not do what I want: A sermon for the Third Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 9, Year A

Proper 9, Yr A

July 3, 2011

There’s a guy who comes by the church to see me on a regular basis; well, there are several guys, but I’m thinking of one in particular. He’s clearly an operator. He’s not really homeless, at least, not all of the time. For a few months I’ll see him regularly in the lineup or at the monthly meal, then when his 90 days runs out, he makes himself scarce—except to come by and see me. He always wants a bus ticket to Milwaukee, but there’s always a story involved. It’s never the same story, though. After the second time, I told him that I could only help him once every six months—that was a rule we had back in South Carolina, and it worked pretty well to keep the most annoying people at bay. So the six months came up this past week, and sure enough, he came back by the church, looking for money for a bus ticket to go to Milwaukee. We missed each other, but next time he comes by, I’ll tell him, he’s been to Milwaukee more often in the last two years, than I have, and that’s only if you count the trips I’ve paid for. Continue reading

More on Terence Malick’s “Tree of Life”

From The Guardian, an interview with Brad Pitt, and Michael Newton’s review.

It is a very rare talent to be able to show with equal power both the free places for which we yearn and the compromise and wickedness that makes their freedom impossible to achieve. At his best, Malick lets us share his humane, unironic and compassionate vision. He presents life as caught between a fragile innocence and an encroaching darkness.

 

One way to respond to the demonization of political opponents

I took a phone call from a reporter for a Madison media outlet a couple of weeks ago. He had recently returned to Madison after several years abroad and was shocked by the breakdown of community in Madison since he had left. Because of the developments in state government and the protests, deep fissures have arisen in Madison. Debate has given way to name-calling, and as he put it, everything seems black or white. I could do no more than concur with his assessment, having experienced myself that any attempt at nuance is often perceived as betrayal or attack.

For this, both sides share responsibility. The effects on our civic life will be felt for a very long time and our community may never be the same. But in the midst of this polarized and polarizing situation, there are signs of an alternative.

During the height of the protest, talk show hosts and others were quick to spew forth epithets. When one radio personality called police and firefighters who were protesting, “lousy, rotten people,” who used violence and intimidation, Lt. Laura Laurenzi of the Madison Fire Department challenged her to provide video proof of such behavior, or to make a substantial donation to a local charity. No proof was forthcoming.

Lt. Laurenzi wanted to make something good out of this, so she challenged members of Firefighters Local 311 to make a donation and promised that she would match their generosity. The firefighters donated $1000 to Porchlight. In return, Lt. Laurenzi wrote a check for $1000 to Grace’s Food Pantry. Her donation will help purchase food and other supplies for people suffering during these difficult economic times.

Lt. Laurenzi did something quite interesting. She demanded that her opponent examine the language she used; she attempted to open up a conversation with her opponent, and she demanded that she be treated as a human being. That her opponent didn’t respond is not suprising. What is surprising is that Lt. Laurenzi made something good out of a dehumanizing situation.

As the dust has settled on the budget, and the protests have diminished, we are left in a community and in a state that seems to be at war with itself. The hard work of reconciliation lies ahead. I wonder who will take the lead.