Thought for the Day: 15th Sunday of Ordinary Time (Trinity 5) 12th July, 2020

Parable of the Sower by Graceful Illustrations

The parable of the sower and the seed must be one of the most well-known of all Jesus’ parables. It’s so well-known in fact that part of it, at least, has passed into everyday speech through that very well-known saying, ‘Some fell on stony ground’. Actually, in the context in which it’s normally meant in everyday language, that saying is incorrect because it’s normally taken to imply that what’s been heard has been ignored or disregarded, and that corresponds more with the word in the parable that is sown on the path, than with the word that’s sown on stony ground. Nevertheless, that any of the parable has become part of everyday speech is an indication of just how well-known this parable is. 

Having said that people misuse this parable in everyday speech though, I think that even those who know this parable well from their reading of the Scriptures can still miss out on part of it’s meaning for us. That’s because when we read this parable, our attention is drawn towards where the seed is sown, and what happens to it after it’s been sown. In other words, our attention is drawn towards the people who hear the word, the Gospel, and what they do after hearing it.

As we know, Jesus gives us four examples to consider. There is the seed that’s sown on the path which is eaten by birds. This relates to those who hear the Gospel but don’t really listen; these are the people who, for various reasons, don’t take any notice of the Gospel. Then there is the seed which is sown on stony, or rocky, ground; the seed that sprouts quickly but withers just as quickly because it has no depth of soil in which to take root; this relates to those who hear the Gospel and seem to really take its message to heart but whom, as soon as any kind of difficulty comes along that makes actually living the Gospel hard, lapse back into their former ways. Then there is the seed that falls amongst thorns and is choked by them; this relates to those who hear the Gospel but who care too much for worldly things for the Gospel to make any difference in their lives. And finally, there is the seed that falls on good soil and produces fruit; this relates to those who hear the Gospel and take it to heart, and who become committed disciples of Christ.

I’m sure that, when we read this parable, we’re often reminded of people we’ve met, and people we know, who fall into all these various categories. And we must know people like this because, whilst Jesus presents them in the parable as distinct groups or types of people, the truth is that we’re all a mixture of these four types; each and every one of us have, to varying degrees, the characteristics of the types of people Jesus describes in the parable. So, if we think about ourselves honestly and objectively, as Christians should, this parable will have related to us, at various times in our lives, and probably still does relate to us, at times in our lives today. And I think it’s when we do think about how this parable relates to us, that we can miss out on a very important aspect of this parable.

We know this parable as the parable of the Sower and the Seeds but, I think we tend to concentrate so much on the seeds and what happens to them after they’ve been sown, that we forget all about the one who sows the seeds, we don’t pay enough attention to the sower. But the sower is a very important character in the parable and, again, one we can, and should, relate to in our own lives and in our Christian discipleship.

Although we may well possess characteristics of all four types of people Jesus describes in the parable, as Christians, our predominant characteristic should be that of the fourth group, those who have heard the word, have taken it to heart, and who are producing fruit. And if that’s not our predominant characteristic now, it should, at least, be the one we’re aiming to make our predominant characteristic in the future. But we know that, before his Ascension, Jesus asked his disciples to take the Gospel to all people and so one of the most important things we can do as Christians, one of the very best ways of producing the kind of fruit Jesus is speaking about in this parable, is to spread the word, to proclaim the Gospel or, to use the same terminology that  Jesus used in this parable, to sow the seed. And that means that, as well as being amongst those Jesus speaks of as hearers of the word, we’re also proclaimers of the word; we’re called to be the sowers of the seed. So, we need to look at ourselves in relation to the sower in the parable too.

I don’t think there can be any doubt though, that some of the things that prevent us from being as good a hearer of the word as we should be, also prevent us from being as good a sower of the word as we could be. It’s quite obvious that we’re going to be hindered in sowing the seed of word if we don’t have at least some good soil within us. And so, we have to overcome the pathways and rocky ground and thorns within ourselves, because if we try to sow the seed of the word while we’re full of those things, we’ll simply be accused of hypocrisy. And perhaps one of the biggest obstacles we have to overcome as sowers of the word, is the world itself, the compromises we sometimes feel we have to make between what the Gospel teaches us to do, and what the world wants and expects us to do. And we have to overcome our fear of the world and our fear of ridicule and rejection by the world.

We know that, in the society we live in, we can come in for a great deal of criticism for being Christians, and whether that’s being made fun of for our faith or going to church, or being accused of hypocrisy, that’s not very nice to have to put up with. It can also be very difficult to have to endure the tedious lectures and tirades of the ‘You don’t have to go to church to be a Christian’ brigade, and of those who never tire of expounding the superiority of science over faith but who know little, if anything, about the Christian faith, and usually little more, if any more at all, about the science they put so much store in. But, in addition to the ridicule we get from such people, we also suffer rejection by them because they’re not likely to be good hearers of the word we sow. And this ‘double-whammy’ of ridicule and rejection can make it very difficult for us to carry on sowing the seed: it’s one thing to put up with opposition and ridicule if we think we might get somewhere in the end; it’s quite another to put up with those things in full knowledge that our efforts are very unlikely to bear fruit. But this is why we need to look closely at the character of the sower in this parable.  

When we read this parable, we find that the sower is quite indiscriminate in sowing the seed, he doesn’t pick and choose where to sow the seed, rather, he scatters seeds on the path, on rocky ground, and among thorns, as well as in good soil. We also notice that, once the sower has scattered the seeds, he disappears from the story, his work is done. And as it is with the sower in the parable, so it should be for us in our lives as disciples of Christ. We should simply sow the seed, spread the word, regardless of how we think the word will be received by those we speak it to. And, once we have sowed the seed, our work, in one sense, is done. How the people we’ve spoken to respond to hearing the word is their business, ours is to sow the seed and then move on to sow more seed in other places. Of course, if the seed we sow happens to fall in to good soil, we may very well be called to nurture it and help it to grow to fruition, but that’s not our initial purpose in sowing the seed of the word. And, just as sowing seeds is a physical rather than verbal action, so we can sow the seed through our actions too. We can sow the seed through our acts of Christian charity in the world, just as much as through our words to those we meet, and perhaps more so in many ways because our words will be all the more powerful, and they’re usually taken more seriously, if they’re supported by actions.

So, as we think about this parable, by all means let’s look at ourselves as the hearers of the word and do all we can to make sure that we’re full of good soil so that the Gospel will bear fruit in us. But let’s also look at ourselves as sowers of the word and follow the example of the sower in the parable by sowing the seed of the word wherever we are and to whomever we meet. And let’s try not be put off by the pathways, the rocky ground and thorns we often sow the seed in; that is not our fault and, just as the sower in the parable wasn’t held responsible for the poor growth of some of the seed he sowed, as long as we are full of good soil ourselves so that our efforts are not hindered by accusations of hypocrisy, neither will we be held responsible for any lack of growth from the seed we sow. That is the responsibility of the hearer. Our responsibility is simply to sow the seed.

Amen.


You will find the Propers for the 15th Sunday of Ordinary Time (Trinity 5) here.

Thought for the Day: 14th Sunday in Ordinary Time (Trinity 4) 5th July, 2020

Photo by Roger van de Kimmenade on Unsplash

This morning’s Gospel reading can, I think, unless we pay close attention to what Jesus is saying, present us with something of a puzzle. In the teaching we read this morning, Jesus promises to give “rest” to those who come to him, in other words to give rest to his disciples, to Christians, to us. He asks us to “shoulder his yoke” which is another way of telling us to take up our cross and follow him. And at the end of his teaching, Jesus tells us that his “yoke is easy” and his “burden light.” This seems to imply that being a disciple of Jesus is something of a doddle, and yet we know from the Church’s history and our own experience, that being a Christian is very far from being a doddle. In fact, being a Christian can be very difficult, and whether it’s in terms of our own personal discipleship, and living a good, Christian life, or in terms of the ridicule, oppression and persecution that the Church, and individual Christians, have had to endure throughout the Church’s history, and still do endure today, it can be extremely difficult to be a disciple of Jesus. So how do we reconcile this seeming contradiction between what Jesus says about being a Christian in this morning’s Gospel, and our own knowledge and experience of being one? 

One thing we always need to remember, whenever we read the Scriptures, is that we have to take a holistic view of what we read. We have to remember that the short passages of Scripture we tend to read are only a small part of a much bigger whole, and it’s only when we read and understand them as part of that bigger whole that we can really make sense of them. And that’s true even of the short passages we tend to read; we have to pay close attention to everything that we read, or we risk missing the real meaning of what we read. And that’s certainly true of the Gospel passage we read this morning because there are two key statements that Jesus makes in this teaching that help us unlock the secret of this Gospel passage.

First, we have to understand what Jesus means by ‘rest’. Normally when we think about rest, we’re thinking about relaxing and taking things easy, but that’s not the kind of rest Jesus is speaking about here. Jesus tells his disciples that they “will find rest for (their) souls.” Jesus isn’t talking about rest as relaxation or taking things easy here; he’s not promising his disciples an easy time, in fact elsewhere in the Gospels Jesus tells his disciples in no uncertain terms that they will have trouble and persecutions in the world. No, the rest Jesus is speaking about is an inner peace, an inner tranquillity, regardless of what’s happening in our lives or in the world around us.  

That kind of rest isn’t easy to achieve, but it’s something that’s often experienced by people who are terminally ill. Anyone who’s spent time with a terminally ill person will probably have found that, in spite of the terrible and extremely difficult time that person is going through, they seem to find an inner peace and tranquillity. And that comes from the knowledge that all the cares and concerns of daily life are not so important after all; they’re certainly no longer as important as they once seemed to be. One person I met who was suffering from terminal cancer told me that, once he’d come to terms with the diagnosis, he found it a very liberating experience, simply because he realised that all the things he used to worry about, weren’t important anymore, and so he stopped worrying about them. He, and others, have told me that they suddenly realised life was too short to worry about things like their career and how much money they were making. Life was too short to worry about their savings and their possessions. And, perhaps above all, they realised that life was too short to argue and fall out with people about these and other things that now seemed so trivial to them. Life was too short to bear grudges. But what did become important to them was happiness, and their relationships with other people. It became important that they mended broken relationships and let others know how much they loved them. And, for many I’ve met and spoken to, their relationship with God became very important to them too.

Of course, as the saying goes, realising that you have only a short time to live is very good for focussing the mind on what’s important and what isn’t. But how can we do that in everyday life, when we’re not faced with such extreme circumstances? How can we find that inner peace, that rest for our souls that Jesus promised his disciples, each and everyday of our lives, regardless of the situation we find ourselves in?

The answer to that lies in something else Jesus says in this morning’s Gospel:

“Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart”

And, perhaps above all, it is Jesus’ gentleness and humility that we need to learn and take on for ourselves if we’re ever going to find the rest for our souls that he promised.

If we think about the things we tend to concern ourselves with in life, the things we worry about and the things we argue and fall out about, isn’t it true that in almost every case, these things all boil down to pride, to a lack of humility? How often, for example, do we argue and fall out with people because we think they’ve treated us badly? Well, they might have done but, as Christians, aren’t we called to love such people anyway? We find that hard to do and, in large part, that usually has something to do with our pride. We’re offended by what they’ve done and so we want, or demand, an apology, or some other redress. And if we don’t get what we want, we’re inclined to fall out with those whom we think have wronged us and perhaps to bear a grudge against them. But very often, it’s our pride that’s wounded more than anything else in these situations, and it’s our pride that demands redress, it’s our pride that shouts, ‘How dare anyone treat me like this? Who do they think they are?’ And we want redress. We want an apology, at least, but how many of us are willing to apologise when we’ve been in the wrong? How often are we even willing to accept that we’ve been wrong? And it’s our pride that won’t allow us to apologise because our pride won’t us let admit, and very often, even see our own faults. But isn’t all this a very long way from shouldering the yoke of the one who was most terribly wronged by being put to death for our faults but who could still say,

“Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”?

And isn’t our ambition for position and status very often fuelled by a desire for the power and authority those things give us? And what is that but an expression of our pride?  But Jesus said,

“You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones exercise authority over them. It shall not be so among you. But whoever would be great among you must be your servant, and whoever would be first among you must be your slave, even as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” 

But, in our pride, don’t we very often try to ‘lord it’ over others? Doesn’t our pride very often demand that others should do as we say, that they should be our servants, while we would be slaves to no one?

And what is our greed for wealth and possessions other than a desire to surround ourselves with very visible symbols of our status, a desire to show others just how well we’ve done for ourselves. But we read about the folly of this in the Gospels too:

“And I will say to my soul, Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry. But God said to him, ‘Fool! This night your soul is required of you, and the things you have prepared, whose will they be?’ So is the one who lays up treasure for himself and is not rich towards God.”

This is also a form of pride, the pride of the Rich Fool which Jesus warned his disciples to beware of. And how often do we act like rich fools?

Of course, there’s nothing wrong with speaking out against wrongdoing, either in general terms or if we have been wronged ourselves in some way. As many people have said, for evil to triumph it only requires good people to look on and do nothing about it. There’s nothing inherently wrong either, with wanting to improve our life and lot in worldly terms because, despite what many people think, the Scriptures do not say that money is the root of all evil; they say it is the love of money that is the root of all evil.  But we do have to be very careful that we don’t allow pride to dictate how we go about these things. If we allow pride to rule our lives, we’ll never have the rest that Jesus promised because we’ll see offence where there is none, insult where there is none is intended, we’ll be unable to let go of petty grievances, we’ll bear grudges because we’ll be unforgiving and lacking in love, and  so our relationships with other people, and with God, will suffer. And we’ll be driven towards greed, perhaps even avarice, and find ourselves in a constant game of one-upmanship with others. There can be no rest for our souls, no inner peace for us, if we live like that. So let’s turn to Jesus, and learn from him how to unburden ourselves of the cares and concerns that our own selfish pride brings into our lives, and exchange them for his easy yoke so that we can find his promised rest for our souls.

Amen.


You will find the Propers for the 14th Sunday in Ordinary Time (Trinity 4) here.

Thought for the Day: St Peter and St Paul Sunday 28th June, 2020

One of the things I’ve spoken about from time to time, is the misunderstanding so many people seem to have about holiness. For many people, holiness means nothing less than spiritual and moral perfection, but that really isn’t what it means to be holy. Holiness has nothing to do with perfection, of any kind; it has everything to do with dedication to God. And we can see that if we look at the Greek word agios.

Anyone who’s been to a Greek speaking part of the world will no doubt have noticed that the churches there are called Agios, followed by the name of a saint. So, whereas we would call a church St Peter’s, for example, the Greek’s would call it Agios Petros.  So, in the Greek language, agios means ‘saint’. But agios is also the Greek word for ‘holy’ so, in Greek, the word for ‘saint’ and ‘holy’ is the same, and this means that in Greek, and therefore also in the New Testament, which was originally written in Greek, saints are holy people. That might not sound so surprising but, when we read about the people whom we call saints, we very quickly find that the saints, these holy people, were far from perfect.

A very common human trait is to idealise, if not actually idolise, the people we look up to, and that happens in the Church just as much as in any other area of human life. In the Church, we look up to the saints as examples of how to live good, Christian lives: we look up to them as examples of holiness, in fact. And so, we have a tendency to idealise them. But the saints were not perfect, they were not flawless marble statues, they were human beings with faults and failings, just like us. What makes the saints examples of Christian living for us, what makes them holy, is that they were dedicated to God in spite of their faults and failings. They’re examples to us, not because they managed to eradicate their faults, but because they learned how to be dedicated to God in spite of them. And we can see that in the lives of perhaps the two greatest saints of all, the saints whose lives and example we celebrate today, Saint Peter, and St Paul.

When we read about St Peter in the New Testament, he appears as something of a well-meaning, but rather impetuous, fool. He was the kind of person who, to use a modern phrase, opened his mouth before his brain was in gear. And not only did he speak without thinking, he acted without thinking too. And he certainly wasn’t a man who could be relied upon in a crisis;  in Jesus’ time of greatest need, St Peter denied even knowing him, and this in spite of saying, just a few hours earlier, that he would die before he denied Jesus. And yet, in spite of all this, St Peter was the one whom Jesus chose to lead the Apostles and the early Church. The Acts of the Apostles show St Peter as the leader and spokesman of the Church, and as the first and greatest miracle worker among the Apostles. We know from St Paul’s letters that St Peter visited the Church in Antioch and probably Corinth too. And the writings of the Church Fathers in the late 1st and early 2nd Centuries tell us that St Peter, along with St Paul, was responsible for founding the Church in Rome. But, in spite of all this, St Peter still had his faults: chapter 2 of St Paul’s Letter to the Galatians make it clear that St Peter could be pressured into changing his mind and making poor decisions, that he could be hypocritical and, no doubt because of his status as the leader of the Apostles, he led others astray because of his hypocrisy. Nevertheless, the Church has always regarded St Peter as one of the greatest of the saints, one of the greatest of God’s holy ones, because of all he did in leading the early Church and proclaiming the Gospel, in spite of his faults.

In that second chapter of his Letter to the Galatians, St Paul speaks about opposing Cephas (St Peter) “to his face” because of St Peter’s hypocrisy, but St Paul himself was far from perfect. We know that, prior to his conversion to Christianity, he was a great persecutor of the early Church. And even though he did all he could to make amends for his earlier actions, he still had his faults after his conversion to Christianity. It’s quite clear from his letters in the New Testament that St Paul was convinced of the correctness of his own views and opinions, and it’s equally clear that he didn’t appear to suffer fools, or perhaps those whom he regarded as fools, those who disagreed with him, gladly. Judging from his letters, St Paul appears, at times, to be have been arrogant and abrasive, acerbic in his comments about or criticism of those he disagreed with or he felt had wronged him. He seems to have been argumentative and perhaps quite hot-tempered. And we know that St Paul was tormented by a “thorn in the flesh, a messenger of Satan” that was given to “harass” him and keep him “from becoming conceited”. We don’t know what this was, it may have been some kind of psychological problem or unpleasant character trait, it may have been an external problem, such as his own enemies and persecutors, or it may have been some kind of physical ailment. But whatever it was, it was clearly something St Paul would rather not have had because “three times” he “pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave (him)” but it didn’t. So, just like St Peter, St Paul had his problems and faults too, and yet it’s doubtful if anyone has ever done as much as St Paul to spread the Gospel, or has ever been more holy, more dedicated to God, than he was.

So, as we look at the lives and example of these two great saints, and indeed of any of those the Church regards as saints, we find that they didn’t become saints because they had no faults, they became saints because they were holy; they became saints because they managed to dedicate their lives to God, in spite of their faults. And that’s why they are such great examples to us: because we’re called to be just like them.

We know that Jesus called us “to be perfect”, and that is what we should aim to be, but we also know that we’re sinners with faults and failings, but those faults and failings don’t mean that we can’t be holy people who’ve dedicated our lives to God. So, let’s be saints ourselves. Let’s be the holy people we’re called to be. And if we think our faults and failings are holding us back from being holy, let’s simply remember the example of people like St Peter and St Paul and dedicate ourselves to God, nevertheless. And let’s remember too that, when St Paul prayed that his “thorn in the flesh” would be taken away, God’s answer was,

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”

And if God will not allow our ‘thorns in the flesh’, our faults and failings to prevent us from becoming saints, from being holy people, why should we?

Amen.  


You’ll find the Propers for St Peter and St Paul here.