Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23
Gospel Reading for the Seventh Sunday after Pentecost (Year A)
Sundays are hard. That is just the reality of my life right now. It used to be my favorite day; a time when I got to to do what I love. Now the day is salt in the wound. This difficult season has put a great strain on my faith. Strong in the initial weeks after stepping down, I find myself spiritually struggling. I feel alone; uncertain of whether there is a place for me. There is a spark of hope and sacred mischief that, for the time being, has been extinguished.
So when Parable of the Sower began to be read this morning at church, I braced myself for the wave of guilt. In this wilderness season, I am the rocky soil, the soil among thorns, the soil patrolled by a Hitchcockian number of birds. How on earth can something good take root when I feel like crap?
While I prepared for a guilt trip, I heard our assistant rector Rev. Sides say this, “Jesus doesn’t use parables to shame.” She said that the point is not for us to hear these words and feel like failures. We contain all four types of soil. We need to be aware of the areas of our life that our rocky or thorny and clear the land the best that we can. Yet Jesus is still going to graciously sow seeds.
That was a word that I needed to hear today. Maybe it’s one you needed too.
Back when I played very basic bass guitar at summer camps, one of my favorite songs was “Beautiful Things.” Its message stuck with me so much that it was one of the songs that I asked to be played at my ordination service. Apparently, I still need to hear those words.
All this pain
I wonder if I'll ever find my way
I wonder if my life could really change, at all
All this earth
Could all that is lost ever be found?
Could a garden come out from this ground, at all?
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us
All around,
Hope is springing up from this old ground
Out of chaos life is being found, in you
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us