Sermon - Pentecost 7 - Matthew 13:1-9; 18-23

Read, mark, learn and inwardly digest.  Those are four things, four verbs we pray for in the collect today.  Four things we want to do, ought to do, need to do with God’s holy word.  Read, mark, learn and inwardly digest. 

If we just read it – as any other book, well that won’t benefit us much.  We can mark it – take special note of it – recognize the Bible is different than other books, as many do, but still know little to nothing of its contents.  And we can even learn it, learn about it, commit parts of it to memory, or even get a PhD in biblical studies and still be an unbeliever (and I could even name some names here).  Indeed, the devil himself knows Scripture better than all of us.  He’s learned it. 

But to inwardly digest.  To take it fully in.  To make it a part of yourself.  This is something that only happens by faith.  This is a gift of God.  This is the mystery of why some receive the word and believe it – and others turn away, fall away, or reject it entirely. 

The collect might well be echoing Jesus’ fourfold explanation in today’s Gospel reading from Matthew 13, the Parable of the Sower.   

Like most of Jesus’ parables, these earthly stories with a heavenly meaning invite us to ponder a short story or example of something from everyday life.  But something about these stories is usually a little “off” and therein lies the hook, the hint of deeper meaning.  The clue that Jesus is teaching us something about his kingdom. 

In this case it begins with a man who went out to sow seed.  Farming – growing food – is a common human experience and activity, though mostly done now by corporations on a large scale.  But still, we know the process even from an early age when our gradeschool teacher has us sprout a bean in a wet paper towel.  You start with seeds.  Common enough.  But already at the outset this farmer is a little bit “off”.  He’s acting irrationally, we might say.  Or I like how the hymn puts it, “the sower sows, his reckless love” 

He doesn’t seem to care where the seed lands.  Here, there, everywhere.  It’s chaotic and disorderly, or so it seems.  Is he really concerned about the harvest at all?  Doesn’t he know that seeds need good soil to grow well?  Does he care that he’s wasting all this seed?  It certainly doesn’t seem like he cares.  “Oh, what of that? And what of that?” 

But as a schoolchild might guess, and as Jesus clearly explains to his disciples later, this is no ordinary sower.  This is the Lord.  And the seed is, of course, his word.  So it may seem that he lacks wisdom and sense by sending forth his word in such a manner.  But we dare not question the wisdom of the one who created all things, including seed and soil, sun and sky, you and me.  We dare not presume to judge the one who sends forth his word, even his own son, the living word.  For he tells us that word will always accomplish the purpose for which he sends it.  Hm. 

Some falls on the path and is snatched by birds.  Jesus says this is the evil one who snatches the Word of God away so that some get little change to even hear it. 

Some falls on rocky soil, and springs up quickly, but then they quickly wither and fall away.  Spiritual ADD. Their faith has no depth or grounding.  Easy come, easy go.  On to the next thing. 

Then there are those who are choked out by the weeds and thorns – the cares and concerns of the world.  The worries of life.  The deceitfulness of wealth.  Really anything in life that competes with or crowds out the Word of God. 

And then, of course, some seed falls on the good soil.  This is the one who hears and understands the word, the one who produces a crop.  These are the believers, the faithful, the true Christians. 

And so we might be tempted to stop here and feel a little good about ourselves.  For after all, we’re the Christians.  We’re the good soil, right?  I mean, here we are at church, reading, marking, learning and inwardly digesting.  We hear the word and sing and pray and believe it. 

But don’t the cares and worries of the world sometimes get the best of us?  Doesn’t the devil sometimes snatch the word away from us, or us away from the word?  Don’t the worries of life and the deceitfulness of riches put stumbling blocks in our path, and stumble nonetheless? 

The truth is, within each of us, there are all four kinds of soil.  Just as there is an Old Adam and a New Adam, a sinner and a saint.  And the parable is not meant to confirm us in our self-righteousness, or make us feel assured in our own worthiness as “good soil.” 

Rather, we might draw two conclusions.   

First, that the fact that some hear the word and end up not believing, or that they believe and then fall away, should not surprise us.  God knows what he’s doing.  While it remains somewhat of a mystery exactly why some respond to the word in faith and others do not – it should not come as a shock, for Jesus tells us this is how it is.  We ought not despair of the power of the word, or think that God is too weak or foolish to accomplish his purposes without our help.  We see in the sower’s approach a very free, maybe even reckless love, a liberal casting of the Gospel far and and wide, with no respect to persons, young, old, rich, poor, high and lowly.  And yet, it’s true, not all will believe.  We’re not universalists in the Christian church. 

But we might also conclude that this liberal and free casting of the Gospel is good news for you and me.   

It’s like this:  Because he loves so freely, I know that I am loved by Christ.  Because Christ’s word is for all, I know that it is for me.  Because Jesus died for the sins of the world, and I am a sinner in the world, I know that his blood effects my salvation, his death takes the sting out of my death, and his resurrection means I too will rise on the last day. 

The hymn says it well: 

The sower sows; his reckless love 

Scatters abroad the goodly seed, 

Intent alone that all may have 

The wholesome loaves that all men need. 

Jesus Christ is that wholesome bread from heaven, that bread of life, that all men need.  He gives his body and blood for the sins of the world, and even now, even here, also, scatters and distributes these blessings to his whole church in the sacrament of his altar.  Here, grace abounds.  Here, sins are forgiven.  Here, faith is strengthened and nourished. Here a harvest increases, a hundred fold or more.  “Ah, what of that, Lord, what of that!” 

Sermon - Pentecost 2 - Matthew 10:5a, 21-33

"Sticks and stones may break my bones," the old saying goes, "but names will never hurt me."

I remember hearing it as a child.  Maybe you do too. But I found it to be hollow, when I was teased by other children. Names do hurt. The ridicule of man usually has an effect on man, or else the ridiculer wouldn't do it. 

Jeremiah knew it. He says he was a “laughingstock” and even his close friends denounced him. Christians know it today, too, as coworkers, acquaintances and even our own family members can mock us and our faith. Oh, you're not one of THOSE people, are you? 

And sometimes, verbal scorn can turn to action. Christians can bear the brunt of persecution that does bring sticks and stones, and breaks your bones. Jewish tradition has Jeremiah stoned to death in Egypt. We know for sure that the first Christian martyr, Stephen was stoned to death. And many Christians, to this day, would die for the faith. It seems we read more of it in the news every day. 

We ought to pray for the persecuted church, especially that they remain faithful unto death, and receive the promised crown of life. There but for the grace of God go you and I. Even when we are not persecuted to death, still, there are crosses to bear. Still, your faith doesn't solve all your problems, make your life easy and successful, or chase all the clouds away with bright shiny rainbows. You may well suffer for Christ, for your faith, for the truth – even if you don't suffer unto death. 

Do you think you are any better than Jesus? They called him the devil, Beelzebul. They mocked him and treated him shamefully. They stripped and whipped and beat and spit on him. They crowned him with thorns in a sham coronation. They gave him a scepter and royal robe to kneel down in false worship. Sticks and stones? They put him on two sticks to die, and he was buried behind a big stone. 

Truly, a servant is not greater than the master. The world hated him. The world hates you, too, Christian. What Jesus got, you will get too, somehow, some way, sooner or later. 

I don't mean to be the bearer of bad news, but this is the hard truth the word puts in front of us today. We preach what Luther called a “theology of the cross”, not a “theology of glory”. 

If you don’t like this, there are plenty of churches out there that will gladly preach to you a theology of glory. “God wants you to be successful, healthy, wealthy, happy. And if you believe rightly, and think rightly, you will have God's favor. And good things will happen to you. Nevermind the fact that every day faithful Christians are struck down by disaster and disease. Nevermind that the faithful are mocked and persecuted. Or that they die in anonymous poverty. Oh, but look at how successul we are!  Look at our big building and new facilities, see how God favors us! 

Are you better than Jesus? No. Far worse, in fact, for you are a sinner. The good news, sinners, is not that Jesus takes all the suffering away. The good news is that he has taken your sin away. The good news is not that Jesus makes your life better, or even good, now, by worldly estimation. The good news is that Jesus has swallowed up death in his victory, and brings abundant life. The gospel of Jesus Christ stands in the midst of all that is wrong and broken and perverted and dying in this world – and speaks a contrary word of hope. Even though you die, yet shall you live. “He who lives and believes in me will never die.” 

So fear not, he says.  Have no fear. No fear of the persecutor, the oppressor, the enemy. Even the one who can destroy your body. For the Lord knows his people, even the hairs on your head. He who knows every time a sparrow dies, knows and values you far more than a sparrow. He knows your suffering. Jesus knows all suffering. And he will not forsake you in it. 

Have no fear, for you already know what is out there: a world that hates Christians and a devil that would like nothing more than to devour us. To see us turn from God in despair, shake our fist at the heavens in anger, and join the true Beelzebul's company of misery. But have no fear, he can harm you none. He's judged, the deed is done. Christ has the victory, and that’s true even when it looks like we are defeated. 

And look at this promise: Jesus will confess you before his Father. He will say, “Father, this one belongs to me. And so this one belongs to you. I have shed my blood for this one. I have conquered death so this one might live. The world hates this one, but this one I love. The world has called this one all sorts of nasty names, but I have called this one by my name. This one is baptized in your name, Father, and mine, and the Spirit's. This one is ours forever.” 

No, you are not better than Jesus. But Jesus is far better than you and I, thanks be to God. And what is his, is ours. His suffering, yes, in which we participate. He had his cross, and we have our own little crosses as we follow him. But we share in his righteousness, his holiness, his resurrection and his victory. God will not abandon us any more than he would abandon his own Son. And that is true comfort, even in suffering and persecution. 

He is coming again, and until that time he has not left us forsaken. He remains among us by his word and Spirit, and in the blessings of his holy meal. His true body and blood are present for our forgiveness, and to strengthen us in all the trials and crosses we bear. 

And even by receiving this sacrament, we acknowledge him before men.  We proclaim him – and his death, until he comes. As we gather to receive him, we confess him. We say, “I, a sinner, am saved by the promise and gift of my Lord Jesus Christ. Who gave his very body and blood on the cross, even to death - and gives his very (resurrected) body and blood- for my salvation, even now. I confess with all these other sinners, that He is the only savior. The way, the truth, the life. That all his words are true. That all his promises are forever. And I look for the fulfillment of these, when this foretaste gives way to the eternal marriage feast of heaven”. 

So fear not.  The hairs of your head are numbered.  You are worth more than many sparrows. Confess Christ, for he will confess you.  Receive his gifts.  And look forward to that day in the when all that is hidden is revealed before the Father in heaven.  Fear not, Christian, in Jesus’ Name.  Amen.