I’ve been letting Nadia Bolz-Weber’s sermon this week of The Parable of the Sower have room in my thoughts, mulling it around, giving it space to grow and to sit deep within. I have enjoyed this thinking space.
In her words, this parable is about “the lush and ludicrous image of how God extravagantly sows the Word of the Kingdom…wantonly and indiscriminately scattering it everywhere like God doesn’t understand our rules.”
Often the Parable is read in a judgmental way of how we are the soil, and there are so many soil-types out there who don’t have what we think it takes to receive the Good Word of God, and to grow.
But, to instead read this Parable as the radical generous Sower, scattering His word – wantonly and indiscriminately – has sat so good in my soul as I have given it thought today, like it is so right, it so who God is, and as I remind myself of the understanding I have that God is the Lover of our souls – of all humanity, no matter who, it just makes beautiful theology.
I shouldn’t be surprised at this Sower’s extravagant throw of seed, and that often it lands in the most surprising of places, soils, even to the people I never thought it would. People I may not want to have anything to do with. People who don’t fit my picture of who can receive this seed; the rules I have of who should and who shouldn’t receive it. People I don’t think deserving. People who grate me. People whose lives are different to mine – who I may even question their way of life or beliefs. He is after all, the see-er of the heart, the seeker of our company, the seed-sack-full-to-overflowing indiscriminate Sower.
Today I have been imagining him, wandering along the path, a joyful whistle heard, delight and pleasure seen etched across his face, reaching deep into his seed-sack, taking large handfuls of seed – seed that is bulging with the power of love and healing and wholeness and forgiveness and grace and mercy – and tossing it in all directions, laughing as it is scattered, and giving an excited shout as it lands and takes root and begins to grow. Walking amongst, tending, weeding, fertilizing, watching on expectantly and excitedly. Then, welcoming the harvest in with arms spread wide, wide, wide around the bundles gathered…bundles full of a mix of every race, colour, gender, position in life, lifestyle, economic status, religious bent, age…
Take a read of Nadia’s post https://nadiabolzweber.substack.com/p/gods-wastefulness. And then read this beautiful Joy Cowley poem –
The Sower went forth to sow
and some seed fell on the wayside
and the birds came and ate it.
But the sower went on sowing
and the next time round
the birds were not there
and the barren wayside blossomed.
Some of the seed fell on stony soil.
It sprang up but the sun burnt it
and it withered away to nothing.
But the sower went on sowing
and the next time it was raining
and the stony wilderness
produced a fine harvest.
Some of the seed fell amongst thistles
which grew up through it and choked it,
but the sower went on sowing
and in time it decayed
to form compost for another lot of seed
which grew in soil made richer
for having had weeds in it.
Some seed fell on fertile ground
and gave a good harvest
first time round, and that was fine,
but it made no difference to the sower
who owned all land with equal love,
the wayside, the stones, the thistle patch,
no less than the fertile ground,
who tended each one in its season
and according to its need,
so that each, in its own time,
produced an abundant crop.
And the sower goes on sowing.
This is the God I love. The extravagant, indiscriminate Sower. The One who sows again and again and again into our lives, no matter who we are. If the seed doesn’t take root this time around, it may the next. The one who never gives up. The one who knows when our hearts will be open to receive Your love-seed and what the need we have, is. The generous joyful Lover of our souls.
God, thank you for your revealing today; once again reminding me that you are our Lover. No one is exempt. Help me to continue this journey of discovery that includes all humanity. Help me rid my mind of the who’s in, who’s out, small exclusive pious way of thinking that I grew up with. That which discriminated against the soils. And instead, let my eyes see everyone around me, the same way you do – humans, people, equally dear, delighted in, pursued, loved extravagantly.