Good Seed, Good Soil

by Barry Pollard

(Based on Matt 13:1-9,18-23; Ro 8:1-11; Ps 119:105-112)

When I saw that the Gospel reading today came complete with its own built-in explanation I was pleased. I often struggle to give learned and coherent reflections so I thought I could just read the Gospel twice and everyone could go home full of knowledge!

The message Jesus was giving was easily grasped, wasn’t it? He told a parable and then explained it. Easy. He often told a parable and walked away! But everything Jesus did was according to God’s plan. Despite how we sometimes see things, Jesus was not remiss or random. He followed the plan, whatever was called for.
He worked this way, Jeremiah tells us (Jeremiah 29:11), because he had plans for us, plans to prosper us, not harm us, plans to give us a hope and a future.

Now, I am a person who likes plans. As my life has progressed I have come to realise that I function best with a plan, having learned a thing or two about my foibles in the last couple of decades. But our plans sometimes (often) don’t lead us to the desired outcomes.
In our house, many plans are made. Keri calls them “new regimes” and they usually involve getting more exercise, eating and drinking less, saving money, and the like, and often coincide with the start of a new month. Many plans are abandoned, however. It isn’t as if I don’t want to be fitter, slimmer, healthier and ready for retirement, but things get in the way, don’t they? The weather is too wet to get outside, the work-day has left us worn out, the bargain was too good to miss …  It may be similar in your house.
Don’t get me wrong, though. Having a plan is still a good thing.

My preferred approach to making a plan is something I learned in my school life. It is based on first principles. What is it that we are trying to achieve? was the question we asked as we entered any planning session. Once that had been established, the steps needed to get to our target were easier to identify, implement and monitor.

Applying this to the parable today, what Jesus wants us to achieve is to hear and understand God’s word, and use it to grow the Kingdom: The seed that fell on good soil represents those who truly hear and understand God’s word and produce a harvest of thirty, sixty, or even a hundred times as much as had been planted (v 23).
If we hear and understand, we can produce a harvest, and not just a measly one!

So, how do we carry this out?
To me, ‘hear and understand’ are things that require our attention and action. Jesus and others in the Bible exhort us regularly to listen (hear) and understand. They even explain that we suffer from hard or dull hearts when we fail to get their message.

The beauty of Scripture is that it is often (some might say, always) multilayered. I can usually discern the surface meaning but others seem to be able to peel off many other layers and relate them to their wider faith understanding. Today I have gone straight to the surface point – Jesus wants us to be the seed that falls in the good soil and goes on to produce a great harvest.
But in saying that he also gave us helpful advice that we should be aware of as we endeavour to follow his plan. He gave examples of seeds being scattered into various places: on a footpath, in rocky soil, among the thorns, and in fertile soil. His explanations of the effects of landing in each of these places actually show us the things we need to be aware of as we follow the plan.
The seed that lands on the footpath represents the people who hear but don’t understand. For them nothing develops. The seed that lands in the rocky soil represents those who hear but don’t develop roots to keep things stable, and they fall away. The seed that lands among the thorns represents those who hear but can’t separate from the influence of the world, and they too fall away. But the seed that lands in the good soil represents those who hear and understand, and it is they who grow to produce the plentiful harvest!

I see all this in terms of disposition. How keen are we to be fruitful in our faith life? Disposition is described as a person’s inherent qualities of mind and character. Some people are described as having a sunny disposition, for example, reflecting the way they think and feel about things. They are upbeat, see the glass half full, and cheer those around them. Dispositions change as we grow and experience life. Some things may drag us down, others cheer us up. But generally over time we show a consistency of mind and character.

One’s disposition is not a static state. We can actively work at changing how we think, react, relate and so on. Consider how we act as parents and compare that to how we act as grandparents, as an example. On the one hand we are concerned about providing for our children, making sure they behave, do well at school and later in work, teaching them to be responsible and productive, and so on. Most of which causes us anxiety. On the other hand, when we are dealing with the grandchildren, we don’t have these responsibilities hanging over us and we are often seen as generous and interesting and fun! We can fill them up with treats and send them home with no real come-back. Our disposition to raising our own is different to being a grandparent to theirs.

Another example: my disposition at work is different to my disposition when I am around friends. I alter my thoughts, words and behaviour to suit the circumstances or environment that I find myself in.

So, the disposition we have to growing in good soil and producing a great harvest can be worked at. We can go from being lukewarm to red hot about our faith.

If the essential lesson from this parable is that we should aspire to be like the seeds that fall in the good soil, how then does that work? And is aspiration enough?
To fall in the good soil we have to know where the good soil is and how we can access it. If you were raised in a Christian home you were likely close to the good soil and your ‘farmers’ (your parents) provided teaching and reinforcement, providing understanding where and when it was needed. If this is you, you are very lucky indeed! I am pretty sure that if my Mum hadn’t brought us up in the church as children I would not be here today.

But what if you didn’t have a childhood faith experience? Where do you start? Where do you find good soil? Where do you find good farmers? And what can inspire you to seek after being planted and productive?
I’m not sure exactly what brings unbelieving individuals to Christ, but it happens. Some new believers have said that the lives of Christians they knew had an attraction that their own did not, leading them to explore. Some reached a crisis point in their lives and blindly reached out to God for help, which of course was answered. Others still have been won over by the sense Scripture makes in their lives. Others have found the friendship and fellowship among the children of God irresistible. So, it happens!

So, now I’ll ask: are you growing in the good soil, with your foundations deep and stable, producing the bountiful harvest that is the benefit of hearing and understanding? Yes? Then you can nod off now and I’ll address those of us who still have work to do.

For us, the desire to really hear and understand is vital. We need to be seriously disposed to the task. If we take ourselves away from the people and places where we are exposed to the word of God then we are sure to miss out altogether. How easily and quickly we can lose our direction, purpose and faith. We need to stay engaged.

Because God has a plan to prosper us and give us hope and a future, he includes in the plan a reference book and a personal tutor. We have been given lots of help and direction through Scripture.  We just have to remember it and follow it. He gave us the Holy Spirit to teach and guide us “into all truth”, to help us hear and understand. Through the power of the Holy Spirit we are saved, filled, sealed, and sanctified. And God has also placed us in a faith community, among strong encouraging believers. We just have to seek them out and engage with them.

Our Romans reading points to the power of the Holy Spirit as he works in our lives. Paul explains that the power of the Spirit overcomes the power of sin. The outline he gives is: because of our sinful nature we failed to live up to the law, so Jesus came as the sacrifice needed to overcome sin’s control. By accepting Jesus we have the Holy Spirit living in us and we can choose to follow the Spirit instead of sin. This leads to life and peace! This plants us and grows us in the good soil. And this comes with benefits!

Verse 105 of Psalm 119 resonates with these thoughts: Your word is a lamp to guide my feet and a light for my path. God’s word guides us and leads us in our faith journey, enriching the soil, nourishing the seed, and producing the rich yield. The Psalm amplifies the disposition we need to follow through. It is also a testament to the benefits of growing in that good soil: being deep rooted, steady and unshakeable.
Similarly, our Collect today praises the Lord for working through his plans for us. It praises his energy in creation. It praises his Spirit in our thinking. It calls us to seek new discoveries, to acknowledge the sacred in all things and to live with the hope of success.

We have a part to play in his plans. We have to turn ourselves towards the direction in which the plan is moving. We have to be active participants. The least we can do is make every effort to hear and understand.

Prayer:
Lord, your Word is a lamp to guide our feet and a light for our paths.
We seek to follow your Word, to hear clearly what you are saying and to understand what it means for us.
Help us to be disposed towards you and your truth always.
Help us, Lord, when the influence of worldly things tries to divert or deter us.
Let us produce the richest of harvests for the glory of your Kingdom!
Amen, let it be.

Falling Trees

I’ve had writer’s block.  Did you notice?  No shortage of topic, more a weariness of style.  Sometimes I feel too positive in my offerings, too relentlessly uplifting.  I’ve grown negative about my positivity, pessimistic about my optimism, discouraged in my encouragement.  And dulled by lack of reader response.  Time for furlough, methinks.  Hunker down.  Take refuge in other writing.

Which seems appropriate, given that we’ve just skirted UN Refugee Day.  June 20th each year, for no obvious reason.  This year’s theme: ‘Hope Away From Home’.

The plight of the refugee is especially moving and deserves our attention.  Refugees, says the UN Commission for Refugees, are “forcibly displaced people worldwide as a result of persecution, conflict, violence, human rights violations or events seriously disturbing public order”.
There’s an unlimited variety of forms of injustice in the world, of course – from systemic to familial to domestic to political, and all shades besides.  But refugeeism must be one of the most unfair, miserable of all injustices.  Not just unjust in itself, but anteroom to other shades of injustice, like abuse, mistreatment, neglect, trafficking; and the strong possibility of dying in the desert, in the snow, or on the ocean.  Imagine living a relatively normal life – even if impoverished and lacking opportunity or material favour – but calmish, safe, even happy.  Then, for absolutely no fault of your own, whatever you do have is wiped out.  Everything is lost and you are on the street, on the run, exposed, unprotected by any exterior cover, left entirely to your own perhaps non-existent resources.  Probably having witnessed or experienced things no human being should ever experience or witness, so that even if things improve, you will permanently live with the memory or the imagery or the scars of utter loss.  Loved ones, home, security, education … hope. 

People – men and women like you and me – among the most aggrieved and abandoned souls on our sorry planet.

Yet there is so little anyone can do, eh.  Even the UN, and other dedicated agencies.  For manifold reasons.  The record 110 million refugees (struck last week by an upsurge in Sudanese refugees) are virtually on their own.
New Zealand, regrettably, doesn’t pull its weight in the global refugee crisis.  We’re supposed to welcome 1500 refugees per year here.  A paltry number in the scheme of things, when places in Europe and the Middle East are overwhelmed with them.

More than half of all refugees come from Syria, Afghanistan and Ukraine (and 90% of Ukrainian refugees are unaccompanied women and children).  38% of refugees are hosted in just five countries: Turkey, Iran, Columbia, Germany and Pakistan.  Turkey hosts 3.6 million.  Lebanon hosts the largest number of refugees per capita and per square kilometre in the world, with an estimated 1.5 million Syrian refugees on top of their own 5 million indigenous population.  Think of that – same population as Aotearoa New Zealand, in a much smaller land area, and they’ve got 1.5 million refugees.  We receive 1500!  There are nearly a million in Bangladesh – Rohingya people – and Bangladesh, half the size of New Zealand, has 160 million of its own citizens!

Such a blight on noble humankind.

Yet, still only a subset of the innocent at large.  The innocenti.  The innocent are the vast swathes of people – individuals and groups – who lack basic need or basic rights, freedom or health, warmth or comfort, sustenance or shelter, human love – or humanity itself.  People who, through no fault of their own, suffer without relief:

  • the child of an alcoholic father
  • the wife of a fallen Ukrainian soldier
  • the Afghan woman hiding in a hessian-walled outhouse
  • the teenager in an Iranian prison for not wearing a headscarf
  • the Gujarati woman unmarried because she has no dowry
  • the homeless veterans of futile wars
  • the father who’s just buried his son, dead of lymph sarcoma
  • the Filipino drug mule in a Singaporean prison cell
  • the American nurse in an ISIS cage
  • the Columbian family who’s lost everything in a mudslide, or a rebel raid
  • the Turkish man crushed and trapped under a pancaked apartment block
  • the newborn left on the church steps
  • the Yazidis, the Dalits, the Rohingya; or the rebels in Idlib or Chin State who just want a fair go
  • …..

This is a shameful list.  Shameful just because the list exists.  In our world.  And it goes on without end.
These are the arenas of injustice that don’t get enough attention in liberal conversations about injustice, much less resolution. It’s these innocenti who are the (barely) living evidence that we humans, we homo sapiens, are uncivilised Barbarians, and we all jointly bear the guilt, by our membership of the species.
My heart aches helplessly for them, wishfully, and my soul prays without ceasing … for the innocents of our world.

Join me?

So, the tree falls in the forest.  For a time.  Did you hear it?

“If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?” The answer, according to Dr. George Berkeley, Anglican Bishop and philosopher (1685–1753), is that, “Yes, it did make a sound, because God heard it.”

Welcoming Challenges

by Ken Francis

(Based on Matt 10:40-42; Ps 13)

Three puzzling verses.

You might have noticed that this is the third Sunday we’ve been working out of Matthew 10 – the account of Jesus sending out his disciples in pairs to spread the message that ‘the kingdom of heaven is at hand’.  Today, the last three verses, which, frankly, are hard to explain!  Because, at the end of Jesus’s instructions – throughout this chapter – to his disciples, he now seems to be giving instructions to those people the disciples are going to visit.  To whom he’s not even speaking at this moment, and … how can we relate to that? When are we ever likely to have his disciples visit us?  “Welcome them,” he says.  “If you welcome a prophet as a prophet, you will receive a prophet’s reward”!  What does that mean?  Especially to me, here, now, in 2023?  Maybe the bit about a righteous person could apply: “If you welcome a righteous person as a righteous person, you will receive a righteous person’s reward.”  But, do we know any righteous persons?  Let alone get a chance to welcome them?!  And it’s not as if we get any evangelists or healers or drivers-out-of-demons passing through Tairua, so how can we look out for them and welcome them?

Are you a righteous person?  If you are, I’m keen to welcome you, because if I welcome you as a righteous person, I’m promised a righteous person’s reward!  Huh. I’m sure that’s not even the right motivation for welcoming a righteous person.

So, I’m a bit puzzled!

But …
I do have a couple of loosely related thoughts.
For one, have you ever felt unwelcome yourself?  How did it feel?  Have you ever been staying at someone’s place and felt unwelcome?  It’s awkward, eh.  What did you do?  What can you do?
And, let’s be honest.  Have you ever had someone staying with you, and you wish they weren’t?!  What did you do?  What can you do?

I know a man who, when I invite him in, say for a meal or a cup of tea, he never leaves.  He stays on and on until I have to come up with some subterfuge to move him on.  Like, well, I really must go, I have a dental appointment, or, look, it’s nearly time for breakfast – would you like to join us?  Ha-ha!  How unwelcoming is that though?

And family invasions!  I like that one-liner written on the step at the Pepe Cafe – have you seen it?  It says, “Happiness is a large, loving, caring, close-knit family – in another city”! (Credit George Burns, I think.)

Jesus had a sort of a perspective on this, and we can sense it in these three verses.  “Anyone who welcomes you welcomes me, and anyone who welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me.”  Not really a family scenario here, in Matthew 10, I know, but could be a way to manage these awkward situations.  Welcome the visitor, no matter how tricky, in the spirit of welcoming Jesus into our home.

Does Scripture say anything else about welcoming others?  Absolutely.  Have you come across Hebrews 13:2?  It says, “Be not forgetful to entertain [or welcome] strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.”  How about that.
And there are plenty of others.  For example, in the little letter to Philemon, Paul is urging Philemon to take back his runaway slave Onesimus: “So if you consider me a partner,” he writes, “welcome him as you would welcome me.  If he has done you any wrong or owes you anything, charge it to me …”

Welcoming.  Yes.
It seems to me it’s a two-way transaction.  It melts down to the guest being a good guest; and the host being of the right disposition to being a good host.  A selfless, perhaps even self-sacrificing, host.  Personality comes into it.  Into both sides of the transaction, that is.  How personable, how likeable are you?  Is there anything you can do to be more likeable, without, of course going too far, becoming ingratiating or fawning or obsequious.  That’s a good word, eh.  Obsequious means “obedient or attentive to an excessive or servile degree”.
Try to be accommodating – even likeable – but not obsequious!  Try, but not too hard.  That’s my best advice – from someone who’s not a naturally warm welcomer himself.

Love is the key, isn’t it.  Love your guests.  Genuinely care for them and take an interest in them.  Or, love the people whose home you’re in.  Respect them and their home and take an interest in them.  Not superficially, like putting on an act.  But inwardly love them, and expect that love to manifest outwardly, naturally.
And if none of this works, “shake the dust off your feet” as the transaction comes to an end, and don’t worry about it any further.

Secondly, what might seem a rather obtuse link to today’s reading: did you note that we’ve just had Refugee Week?  A couple of weeks ago.  And in the Anglican lectionary, Refugee Sunday is meant to be the first Sunday in July.  Which is today.  Why it doesn’t coincide with the United Nations’s World Refugee Day, on June 20th, I can’t say.  But, anyway, in reflecting on the concept of welcoming, on Refugee Sunday, let’s spare a thought for refugees.

We don’t get much of a chance to welcome refugees in Tairua.  But New Zealand, regrettably, doesn’t pull its weight, in my opinion, in the global refugee crises.  We are supposed to accept – nay, welcome – 1500 refugees per year here.  A paltry number in the scheme of things, and a number that we usually don’t even achieve.  When places in Europe and the Middle East are overwhelmed with refugees.  The United Nations Commission for Refugees says there are 110 million “forcibly displaced people worldwide as a result of persecution, conflict, violence, human rights violations or events seriously disturbing public order”.  (A record number, incidentally, increased recently due to what’s happening in Sudan.)  More than half of all refugees come from Syria, Afghanistan and Ukraine.  90% of Ukrainian refugees, by the way, are women and children, unaccompanied.  More than a third of all refugees are hosted in just five countries: Turkey, Iran, Columbia, Germany and Pakistan.  Turkey hosts 3.6 million.  Lebanon hosts the largest number of refugees per capita and per square kilometre in the world, with an estimated 1.5 million Syrian refugees – on top of their own 5 million indigenous population.  Think of that – same population as New Zealand, in a much smaller land area, and they’ve got 1.5 million refugees.  We host 1500!

There are nearly a million refugees in Bangladesh – Rohingya people – and Bangladesh, also half the size of NZ, has 160 million of its own citizens!

I note that the theme for this year’s World Refugee Day was “Hope Away from Home.”

Not that there’s anything you or I can do about it.  But we should at least be aware.  We can pray for the global situation. Psalm 13 might well be the prayer of the refugee:
How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever?  How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and day after day have sorrow in my heart? … Look on me and answer, Lord my God.  Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death, and my enemy will say, “I have overcome him,” and my foes will rejoice when I fall. 

Let us pray this prayer with them, and for them.  I’ve highlighted some statistics, but – these are individual human beings, with back stories and families, and have suffered great losses.  Are not two sparrows sold for a penny?  And these refugees are hugely loved by our Father.  And if anyone gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones, truly I tell you, that person will certainly not lose their reward.
Some of us might feel moved enough to take creative action of some sort.  Let us at least be welcoming in our hearts, and suspend any judgements or prejudice we might have against any strangers … aliens … any visitors we’re lucky enough to come across, especially awkward ones.

So, this is my reflection.  Me thinking out loud!  Be a good host or a good guest.  But don’t overdo it.  Love the other half of the transaction, and don’t be too precious yourself.  Get over yourself!  And I’m addressing myself here.  Jesus said, “welcome others as you would welcome me”.  So, let’s get better at it.  Be willing to sacrifice your own time, your own resources, your own rights – for the sake of your guest, or your host if you are the visitor.  And you too might experience “the reward of a righteous person”, whatever that is.

Are not two sparrows sold for a penny?

by Joan Fanshawe

(Based on Mat 10:24-39; Gen 21:8-21)

Are you feeling just a bit anxious after hearing today’s Gospel reading?
I have been rather fearful for the past week or so! Afraid that I won’t be able to stand here and say anything coherent about the litany of exhortations you’ve just heard me read from Matthew’s Gospel.

Let’s first consider the Genesis reading. (The Revised Common Lectionary that is used by the Anglican Church, among others, helps clergy and worship planners by providing a framework for preaching and teaching that was put together to ensure a diverse and balanced biblical message. There are choices within it, especially with the Old Testament/Hebrew scripture readings, and this week I want us to hear Abraham and Sarah’s story.) After hearing Sarah being admonished for quietly laughing at the thought of bearing a child in her old age, the promise was fulfilled when their son Isaac was born. Then more laughter – of joy this time.

Hagar, Sarah’s Egyptian slave, had earlier borne a son, fathered by Abraham – at Sarah’s request, because she herself was barren. Now, however, Sarah saw Hagar and that son as a threat, so banished them into the desert.
It’s another whole story within this unfolding age-old saga, told in the book of Genesis: this son Ishmael – the name means ‘God hears’ – is to father the Arab generations, cousins, if you like, to the Jewish nation (noting that Islam, Judaism and Christianity all trace their ancestry to Abraham).

God is infinite, but the story of Hagar and Ismael hearing God’s reassurance in the desert, “Do not be afraid”, and then hearing Jesus use the same encouragement in Matthew’s passage, remind us that God is also intimate: God is with us.

Matthew, writing for his small community of Jesus followers years later, recalls words Jesus would have used when preparing his own disciples for going out to “proclaim good news about God’s kingdom of justice and love, to cure the sick, cleanse the lepers and cast out demons” – as we heard last week. He’s telling them that they’re going to run into opposition; they could get a bad reception in some places, and even persecution like Jesus himself received. There are some pretty strong alerts about the dangers ahead and indeed Jesus’s followers would be persecuted, beaten, imprisoned, killed, and even used as lion bait, for many years.


Plenty to be afraid about

But three times in this passage we hear, “Be not afraid!”

Why does Jesus say that?
Tom Wright1 says it’s not the explanation we expect, which is that Jesus would say, “God will look after you” – although he does say that eventually. The first reason Wright gives is that, don’t worry, “a time will come when everything will be revealed … what is presently secret will be uncovered”. There will be vindication in that they were faithfully following the true Messiah.

As for dividing families (also brought up in Matt 10), we know that people seem to have set themselves against their mothers-in-law since time immemorial – without much aid from religion!
But, more seriously, for some, choosing a commitment to Christ might mean real divisions in their families. Back then the family dynasty was majorly important in society, and these days there is still pain when choices cause division. We have a very close example in our own church family: choosing to become a Christian has completely alienated our dear friend from her family in India.

The church, we might infer, as a body of Christians, might also run into conflict with authorities and other groups when speaking out on what it sees as issues. Less so these days, perhaps, when the church seems to be a diminished presence in society. But for those who would follow Christ, maybe the question isn’t, “Why do things go wrong for those of us who say we follow Jesus?” Perhaps the question should be, “Why are things going so well?” “Why aren’t we having more problems?” or “Why am I not being persecuted?” Perhaps our faith has not changed our life sufficiently for anyone else to notice.
Verna Dozier, a celebrated lay leader in the US Episcopalian Church and great champion of the ministry of all baptised persons, wrote, “Don’t tell me what you believe. Tell me what difference it makes that you believe.”

Despite the warnings that storms will besiege the faithful, and even in our own times there are many temptations and dangers along the way, Jesus promises that in the tempests of life, we are not to be fearful and to remember that we do not face these challenges alone. God is with us.

Therefore my friends, be not afraid. Hold fast to the faith that is in you, knowing that Jesus also says, “Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father noticing. And even the hairs of your head are all counted. So do not be afraid; you are of more value than many sparrows.”

There’s a song about that I’d like us to listen to.

But first,
sometimes when we are afraid, or feeling we’re alone, in hard moments – how do we know that God is with us? Here’s a prompt you can use any time, whether you’re feeling anxious – or happy as well:
Close your eyes and breathe in and out quietly. God is in your every breath, as close to you as the flow of life – Pneuma – the Holy Spirit – the breath of God within us.

While we breathe quietly let’s listen to an old favourite Gospel song His Eye is on the Sparrow, sung for us by Gospel minstrel Oceanessa Adaeze.

[Song can be heard here]
Lyrics are:
Why should I feel discouraged?
And why should the shadows fall?
And why should my heart be lonely
and long for heaven and home,
When Jesus is my portion?
A constant friend is he;
His eye is on the sparrow and I know he watches me.

I sing because I’m happy,
I sing because I am free,
His eye is on the sparrow and I know he watches me.

[Words by Civilla D Martin, tune by Charles H Gabriel, 1905]

1Tom Wright, on Matthew