 Rev. Lisa McIlvenna |
Where
The Roots Run Deep
Sermon:
Scripture: |
“They that have
ears, let them hear…”
There
is a story about a new preacher who had just begun his first
sermon. He was nervous. He was afraid that he would forget his
lines and he wasn’t sure how the congregation would respond
to some of the words that he had to say. He began to get more
and more nervous because the congregation didn’t seem to be
responding. About
ten minutes into the talk, his mind went blank and he
remembered what he had been taught in seminary. “When a
situation like this arises, just remember to repeat the last
point that you made. Often repeating the last point will help
you to remember what comes next.” So
he gave it a try. He said, “Behold, I come quickly.” Still
his mind went blank and he could not remember what came next.
He tried it again. He said, “Behold I come quickly.” And
still he couldn’t remember what came next. So he tried
again, “Behold I come quickly.” And as he did, he knocked
over the pulpit, tripped over a potted plant, and landed in
the lap of a lady sitting in the first pew. The young preacher
was embarrassed and apologized to the lady. The lady said,
“That’s all right young man. It was my fault. I should
have gotten out of the way. You told me three times that you
were coming.” As
a preacher, I must admit that there have been times when I
preached and I wondered if what I said was heard. If I had
knocked over a potted plant, would anyone have known that I
was coming? And I have been amazed at the things that have
been heard that I didn’t think I had said. As
parents and spouses, we often wonder about it in our families.
“Oh, you wanted bread and milk? I only heard you say
milk!” “Oh, I thought when you said to be home by 10 p.m.,
you meant just don’t stay out too late.” “Oh, I heard
you say that you had a meeting that lasted until late in the
evening. I didn’t hear you say anything about putting the
kids to bed.” How is it that we hear some things and miss
others? In my house, I refer to it as “selective
listening!” We hear the things that we want to hear and are
deaf to what we couldn’t care less about or don’t want to
hear. In
the gospels, there were many times when large crowds gathered
to hear Jesus preach. Many were drawn by the excitement of
what he had to say. But what Jesus really had to say and
“letting it take root” were altogether different. Often people would hear and try to
apply only half of what Jesus was saying, and many of those
differed on what half they had
heard and/or chose to emphasize. Others simply drifted
away once the
excitement was over, and nothing seemed to stay with them at
all. In today’s gospel, such a crowd had gathered. As the
disciples stood by and watched the crowd’s confusion, many
drifted away as the excitement wore into the evening. You
might imagine them wondering, “Why does Jesus waste his
time?” If
I am honest as a preacher, I will admit there are times when I
feel as if no one hears or “allows to take root” what I am
saying. Or as a mother, I feel like I have repeatedly asked my
children to do the same thing for days and weeks and they
still act as if this is the first time that they have heard
it. I wonder why I bother. Why did I give so much energy to
those things? I begin to feel critical and resentful. There
are times when we wrestle as a church and as individuals in
relationships with others beyond our families. “Why bother
sending supplies and people to inner cities? They won’t make
a difference.” “Why bother helping that family? They
won’t appreciate it.” “Why bother having Sunday School
when only one person shows up? She won’t remember what is
said.” “Why bother preparing a sermon for the Fourth of
July weekend when only the already-converted will be there?”
“Why knock ourselves out for just a handful of young singles
when they are too busy to appreciate it anyway and don’t
really give much back to the church?” “Why bother giving
so much energy and time to helping him find a job when his
social skills are such that he will probably lose it within a
month?” “Why bother to call on her when her illness is so
severe that it has affected her mind, so that she can’t
communicate anyway, and I’m not sure that she knows that I
am there?” “Why go to the trouble of setting up an
intervention program when he’s been in and out of a dozen
rehabs already, and each time he says he’s going to change
but ends up right back on drugs?” Yet,
despite the fact that it appears in today’s gospel that the
crowd is not understanding, Jesus doesn’t give up. Instead,
Jesus gets in a boat and begins to tell the crowd another
story. “A sower went out to sow some seeds. Some seeds fell
on a path and the birds came and ate them. Others fell on
rocky ground where they didn’t have much soil and they
sprang up quickly; but when the sun rose, they were scorched
because they had no roots and they withered away. Others fell
among the thorns and when the seed grew up, the thorns choked
them. And finally, some fell on good soil and brought forth
good grain: 100, 60 and 30 fold.” “Let
anyone who
has ears listen!!” In
my own “selective listening,” I have heard this parable as
one of judgment, suggesting that those who choose to accept
and follow God’s word will be rewarded. And those who choose
to live otherwise will be lost. However, a more recent and
careful study of this parable, in the context in which it is
written, has helped me to notice a couple of important things
about Jesus in the telling of this parable. I believe this can
help us better understand the dynamics of hearing and “being
moved to act on” what we hear. First, Jesus demonstrates an
understanding of what is happening to the crowd. Second, Jesus
tells why he is able to continue teaching the crowds without
becoming discouraged, feeling that it is a waste of time, or
giving up when they do not hear what he has to say or when
they do not allow it “to take root” in their lives. Let’s
begin by looking at what is happening in the story. Consider
the two cousins who got together for the summer. One lived in
the country and the other lived in the city. The country
cousin came to visit the cousin in the city. While walking
through the city, the cousin from the city heard a man drop
some coins. He quickly reached down to pick up the coins for
the man. But the other cousin, not having heard the coins,
wondered what the cousin from the city was doing. While
walking down the street, the cousin from the city began to
harass the other cousin about needing to get her ears checked
and possibly needing a hearing aid. “How could you not hear
the clanging of the coins as they hit the street?” said the
cousin from the city. As the cousin was harassing her, the
cousin from the country suddenly stopped and said, “Do you
hear that?” “Hear
what?” asked the cousin from the city. Then the cousin from
the country walked over and pointed to a cricket that was
chirping inside a trash can. What
does the story of these two cousins suggest about what is
happening with the crowd? Perhaps, often our inability to hear
or act upon certain things is more complicated than simply
choosing to listen or not listen. “Where our lives are
rooted” often determines what we hear and how we respond. If
we were to look at the text in the chapter preceding the story
of the sower, we would see several things. We would see that
the Pharisees’ lives were rooted in the laws, and so what
they heard on this particular day was that Jesus was
threatening to break the law and therefore they acted in
judgment. The lives of the demon possessed and the sick were
rooted in hardship and pain. To them the laws meant nothing;
but Jesus’ acts of compassion said something to them that
caused them to act impulsively. The disciples’ lives were
rooted in uncertainty and confusion, and they were feeling
tossed and turned by the wind of persuasion and influence of
others, so they acted in frustration. As for Jesus’ family,
their lives were rooted in something else. What they heard was
being choked out by their fear of being abandoned or
humiliated by Jesus, so they acted defensively. Jesus,
in the story of the parable, acknowledges the many types of
soil (many places that our lives “can be rooted”), saying
that when the seed falls upon ground that is fertile, it bears
much fruit. Perhaps it invites us to wonder about our own
lives. Is our soil fertile? Are we eager to hear and be moved
by God’s word, God’s grace, and God’s love? Are we
tilling the soil and making it ready by doing the following:
intentional and deeper prayer life, study of the scripture,
self reflection and assessment of our gifts and the way we use
our time, or the ways we open ourselves to experiencing the
wonder and growth of God’s grace in mission and outreach to
others? As
parents, we understand and preach to our teenagers: “The
crowd that you hang out with (in which you plant yourself),
more often than not, shapes who you become and what you do.”
And so we encourage them and pray that they will find rich
soil in which to plant themselves. We might wonder how much
richer our lives would be and how much more fruit our lives
would bear if we were as intentional and vigilant to receive
the seed of God’s word, God’s grace, or God’s love. In
fact, upon hearing this parable, we might expect to hear Jesus
tell us to “Therefore, become the fertile soil.” As
Christians, we are called to be the sower of the seeds and
should concentrate on sowing the seed in the fertile ground.
But Jesus doesn’t! The second thing that I notice about
Jesus in telling the parable, is his emphasis that the sower
should scatter
seed not just in fertile soil, but everywhere, in every
type of soil. In
ancient Palestine, farming practices were not like they are
today. You didn’t go into the field, plow up the land, and
scatter the seeds. Instead, the farmer scattered the seed in
the field, prior to plowing. Because of this, seeds fell
indiscriminately among weeds, rocks, on the path, and on the
good soil. When Jesus refers to God in this parable, as the
sower who scatters seed upon the unplowed field (or human
life), he speaks of a God who indiscriminately offers love to
all of human life; complete with its pathways that have been
worn down by experiences, people who have walked all over us,
feelings of defeat or damaged self-esteem. He offers his love
in the rocky places where jagged edges of divorce or broken
relationships or other sad losses and hurtful times have
cluttered life with stones. He offers his love in thorny
locations, where materialism, alcoholism, workaholism,
anger/resentment or illness have completely over-whelmed us.
And we can’t find God’s love anymore and our view is
shaded. Unlike
the disciples, we are inclined to look at the bareness of a
person’s life and his/her ability to hear and act positively
upon what we might offer. We often turn away in hopelessness.
But the Sower of the Seeds of Love refuses to give up on any
of his children. God recognizes and understands that there are
times, in all of our lives, when the ground is rocky, thorny,
heavily worn, and dry. God keeps throwing onto those lives
great big heaping handfuls of seed, trusting that one day, one
of those seeds will slip past the pathway, the rocky way, the
thorny way, and settle gently upon the deep, dark richness of
fertile ground. And then the seeds will sprout, spring to life
and bear fruit. God
knows that there is fertile soil somewhere in the life of
every person, despite the obvious presence of weeds and thorns
and hardened
ground. Our ability to hear, receive and be moved by the seed
is therefore dependent not only upon a fertile soil in which
the seed can take root, but also on God’s grace and
persistence in offering us the seed in whatever soil “we are
rooted.” Lastly,
the story is told of two men who spent time together in the
hospital. The first man, John, was a bright and cheerful man
who was dying of cancer. Every morning he would greet his
roommate, Charles, with a friendly smile and cheery, “Good
morning!” In response, Charles would grumble and say,
“What is so good about it? Tell me one thing that is good
about lying in a hospital bed, hooked up to an I.V. and
waiting to have your leg amputated. At least you are next to
the window and can look out.” Life had dealt harshly with
Charles, who served in Vietnam, had seen many deaths and ugly
scenes, and had come home a broken man. And shortly afterward,
his wife left him. Now the complications of his injuries from
Vietnam left him in the hospital, flat on his back, facing the
possibility of not only one leg being amputated, but two.
As
John watched Charles, and listened to his bitterness, he was
reminded of a time in his own life, not so long before, when
he too felt bitter toward his family, toward God, and toward
life. Learning
about his cancer and that he was dying, he had gone into a
deep depression and didn’t want to speak to anyone. He was
angered as they tried to tell him that he should celebrate the
life that he did have. But his wife waited patiently with him
through the depression and after a while he began to embrace
life again, recognizing that it was important to enjoy each
moment of every day.
John
wished that Charles could feel the way that he felt. But he
didn’t know how to reach him, because Charles was often
silent while staring at the wall. So John, after awhile, spent
part of the day chattering. While not speaking directly to
Charles, John looked out the window and chattered about what
he saw. John would talk about the beautiful pond where the
children gathered and played with their kites, about the young
ducklings that swam on the lake, about the children who
laughed and played, and about an old couple that sat on the
bench sharing lunch together. Every day he would chat about
what he saw out the window and he would notice that even
though Charles never said a word, Charles was listening. And
for those moments during the day, Charles seemed peaceful.
After
a while, John got progressively worse and died. While the
nurse was preparing the room for another roommate, Charles
asked if he could have the bed next to the window. The nurse
moved him by the window and there he lay. After a few minutes,
the new roommate arrived.
The roommate, housebound because of his health, had
just had back surgery. He asked Charles if the shades could be
drawn open and if he could tell him what he saw outside, if he
didn’t mind. Charles
grumbled, and agreed. The nurse threw the drapes open and
Charles pulled himself up onto the edge of the bed and looked
out the window. What he saw was a blank cement wall. Tears
came to Charles’ eyes. The roommate said, “What do you see
out there?” Charles began, “I see a park, and in the park
I see….” “Let those who have ears listen!!”
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