Seaside Sowing
Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23
July 12, 2020
Rev. Elizabeth Mangham Lott
St. Charles Ave. Baptist Church

That same day Jesus went out of the house and sat beside the sea. 2 Such great crowds gathered around him that he got into a boat and sat there, while the whole crowd stood on the beach. 3 And he told them many things in parables, saying: “Listen! A sower went out to sow. 4 And as he sowed, some seeds fell on the path, and the birds came and ate them up. 5 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. 6 But when the sun rose, they were scorched; and since they had no root, they withered away. 7 Other seeds fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked them. 8 Other seeds fell on good soil and brought forth grain, some a hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty. 9 Let anyone with ears[a]listen!”

“Hear then the parable of the sower. 19 When anyone hears the word of the kingdom and does not understand it, the evil one comes and snatches away what is sown in the heart; this is what was sown on the path. 20 As for what was sown on rocky ground, this is the one who hears the word and immediately receives it with joy; 21 yet such a person has no root, but endures only for a while, and when trouble or persecution arises on account of the word, that person immediately falls away.[a] 22 As for what was sown among thorns, this is the one who hears the word, but the cares of the world and the lure of wealth choke the word, and it yields nothing. 23 But as for what was sown on good soil, this is the one who hears the word and understands it, who indeed bears fruit and yields, in one case a hundredfold, in another sixty, and in another thirty.”

As co-opted as Jesus has been in this country, as much as he has been commercialized and made into a brand, as much as I resist the Hobby Lobby “hang it on your wall” Jesus motif…the Jesus of the gospels is still so utterly compelling to me. Why begin with a caveat like that? I suppose I feel it’s somewhat dangerous these days, in our culture in this moment, to align yourself with Jesus and not specify which one. 

So the Jesus I am drawn to liked to hang out on the beach. He didn’t have personal wealth, and we never read about him owning his own home, but he somehow managed to be hosted by all kinds of folks, especially the ones whose front doors opened up right onto the sea. 

As Matthew 13 opens, we read that Jesus goes out from the house to sit beside the sea “that same day.” There’s certainly enough to play with in this passage without wondering what else happened on that same day, but we need to know. We need to know what had gone on within this man leading up to some rest in that house and a fleeting moment of solitude beside the sea.

The scenes leading up to 13:1 are robust and intense. Plucking wheat on the sabbath leads to an argument with Pharisees, healing a man in the synagogue leads to a plot against Jesus toward his ultimate destruction. He knows this and leaves, but crowds follow him. And the crowds bring a man who is suffering with myriad illnesses—physical, mental, and spiritual. Jesus heals him and them immediately gets slammed again by Pharisees who think he is the devil. Crowds who adore him and need his help and want his teaching are following him. Crowds who question him and suspect he is up to no good are following him and want to catch him in a trick or a lie or something that explains how he does what he does. In all of this, his mother and brothers come looking for him, and then he points to the chosen family around him and says he’s already with his family. The audacity of Jesus!

And that same day, he’s made his way to a house along the sea. I hope he took a good nap, the kind when you wake up and don’t remember what day it is or where you are or whether it’s night or morning. The kind with deep creases along your face from pillows and sheets crushed beneath you. I hope he splashed water on his face to refresh himself and return him to this moment. Then he walks outside to sit along the sea. That brief, quiet moment of listening to the birds, watching for fish as they jump across the water’s surface, watching boats make their way along the horizon. I hope he took in long, slow breaths of salty air and felt that good sea breeze across his skin.

Whatever he needed in that moment, I hope it was enough to center him and root him to his best and truest self because he would need all of that anchoring for the great crowds that find him.

I love a seaside Jesus because I am a seaside girl. I know the restoration and the solace that comes from even the briefest moment of sitting right there in that place, and I surely know the feeling of wanting to sit there alone for quite a long while but finding the time to never be long enough.

So he climbs into a boat to push out and get in front of this crowd that has now gathered on the beach, and he teaches them. He teaches in parables which is to say he teaches in metaphors and he teaches in poetry. If his actions and interactions already haven’t been enough of a lesson, then now he’ll teach in art and in wordplay. 

Among the parables he told that day, he spoke about this one who went out sowing seeds. 

“some seeds fell on the path, and the birds came and ate them up. 5 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. 6 But when the sun rose, they were scorched; and since they had no root, they withered away. 7 Other seeds fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked them. 8 Other seeds fell on good soil and brought forth grain”

I love seaside Jesus for never being concerned about over-committing to a teaching image as he returns to the work of a gardener once again.

A full four months of work-from-home life, and Nathan and I have been able to give quite a lot of attention and energy to seeds and soil around our home. We’re in the midst of a pretty large-scale plan to take up around 600 square feet of concrete with plans to retain storm water on our property and increase the number of native plants that might attract more birds and reptiles and all sorts of wildlife. Nathan has made remarkable drawings with plant lists and images. He’s marked out cisterns and downspouts and ways to capture rain water for later use.

As we have studied muhly grasses and agapanthus and passion flower vines, we’ve turned again to Monty Don, the great gardening teacher and expert. We are watching Gardener’s World each week, all the way across the pond from the BBC. And in watching Monty at work, we recognize we may know quite a bit about plants and dreaming gardens into being, but we have much to learn about soil. Plants need certain conditions to thrive, and Monty knows how to tend the soil. He knows how to make a comfrey tea to nourish blooms, he makes compost and works it into the soil as he goes. There is no popping into Lowe’s to buy a few things and then see what lives more than a couple of weeks. His work in his garden is deliberate and reflects an intimate connection not just to the trees and shrubs and grasses and fruit and veg but to the soil itself.

Sitting along the seaside, floating in a boat, breeze blowing across their skin, Jesus talks to the crowd about soil. There is a sower who is tossing seeds left and right, which Monty Don would never do, but New Testament scholar Holly Hearan notes, “Scattering seed was (and in some places still is) a relatively efficient way to plant a large field of grain.” The teachers in the Jesus Way are like this kind of ancient farmer walking the rows of a field, tossing out seed and hoping enough of it hits in the right places that it takes hold to grow. 

I am pretty sure I have long been taught this parable speaks to us as sowers, partners in Jesus’ work, not in control of where the good word lands but responsible for sending it out nevertheless.

But as I learn more and more about soil, as I get quieter and quieter in these months at home, I believe my work (our work) is in tending the soil of our lives that we create the right conditions for the ways of Jesus to grow in us.

The soil of my life is not automatically great for growing the good tree that produces good fruit, as Jesus describes in Matthew 12. I am quickly overcome with weeds and rocks and distractions and petty thoughts. 

When I cultivate a contemplative practice of sitting in silence and purposefully stilling my mind, spirit, and body, it is comfrey tea for my soul. When I return to my yoga mat and train my breath to drop all the way to the bottom of my lungs, it is turning compost into the hard soil of my muscles and joints. When I soak in the sun, splash in the water, sweat in the garden, walk in the neighborhood, get my hands dirty in the earth, I am tending the soil of my life. And only then can the words of seaside Jesus, the one I love from these gospel stories, really have any hope of growing in me and shaping me into the ways of the Christ.

There is so much we want to do and accomplish and push to make happen in our world. We are doing and accomplishing and pushing all the time, and most of that effort is really, really good work. But just as it is my hope that Jesus took a nap that day in the seaside house, it is my hope that you hear the whole calling of who Jesus is inviting you to be. Accomplishing, pushing, making good in this world is balanced against that seaside sitting, soul resting, and soil nourishing. This too is part of our calling.

And if the notion of slowing down to nurture the soil of your soul sounds like impossible work, take comfort in this reminder from Holly Hearon, “While we set about cultivating good soil, we are not without hope. It is true that seeds landing on hard or rocky ground stand less of a chance of gaining root and thriving but it does, sometimes, happen. There are remarkable pictures of trees growing out of rocks and flowers that push up through the pavement. These tenacious plants offer signs that the word of the kin(g)dom will continue to find a way to grow even on the days when we feel beaten down, or overcome by thorns, or at our rockiest.”

Amen.