Sermon on Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

I love a personality test.

Whether it’s the Myers-Briggs or the Enneagram or a ridiculous Buzzfeed quiz that tells you what Disney princess you are, sign me up!

So, it’s easy for me to look at the parable of the sower and ask, “which part of the parable am I?”

Am I like the seed that fell on the path? Does my lack of understanding allow the seed of faith to be snatched up by birds?

Am I rocky ground? Is my faith enthusiastic but lacking in depth?

Or am I full of the thorns of worry and greed that choke the life out of my faith?

Or am I good soil that bears fruit? And if so, am I bearing a yield of thirty, sixty, or a hundredfold?

As much as I normally like to puzzle over what personality type I am, this parable has caused me a lot of anxiety over the years. I’ve worried that my faith wasn’t genuine or deep or bearing enough fruit. It’s easy to use this parable as a litmus test to see if one’s faith measures up.

On the other hand, it’s also easy to try and type other people.

That person who just comes to church because their family does, maybe that person is like the seed on the path and just doesn’t get it.

Or maybe that other person who stopped coming to church after something difficult happened, maybe they’re like the rocky ground and expected things to be easy if they believed in God.

Or all of the so-called “nones,” people who report that they have no religious affiliation—maybe they’re like the seeds among the thorns, so caught up in worldly pursuits that they have no time for God.

And that person over there who attends every Bible study and never stops talking about God, that person must be good soil.

But, earlier in the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus reminds us, “Do not judge, so that you may not be judged.” Typing other people based on the parable of the sower might not be the best way to keep from judging other people.

Besides, the parable of the sower is not a personality test. It wasn’t a tool developed by psychologists or even internet content creators looking for more hits on their website. It’s a parable—a story that tells us something about God and the world we live in.

When trying to understand something in the Bible, it’s always good to look at the context, so let’s see what comes before and after this parable and what that tells us:

In Matthew chapter 12, Jesus has been butting heads with both the religious leaders and the crowds over doing things on the Sabbath and where Jesus’ authority comes from. Last week, we heard a frustrated Jesus scold the crowd for their contradictory attitudes toward John the Baptist and himself. Jesus essentially says, “There’s no pleasing you!” Then, he goes on to offer them instead the peace and rest that comes from following him and being part of the Beloved Community.

So, the parable of the sower could be an explanation of why different people are reacting to the good news of the Beloved Community differently. Some people are going to receive it gladly, some will receive it conditionally, and some won’t get it at all.

Then, if we look at what comes after this parable, we discover that it’s just the first in a long series of parables that Jesus tells in Matthew chapter 13, and they all touch on the Beloved Community. Most of them begin: “the kingdom of heaven is like…”, and we’ll be looking at more of them in the next few weeks.

This chapter is a collection of things Jesus has to say about the Beloved Community. And the Beloved Community is about, well, community. It’s about relationship and connection and generosity and support for one another. It’s not about whether individuals measure up to arbitrary standards. It’s not about dividing people between good soil and bad soil. All are invited. All are welcome. All are supported and celebrated.

In the parable, the sower doesn’t look at the path or the rocky ground or the thorns and say, “That’s not good soil—I’m not going to bother.” Instead, the sower throws seeds generously, abundantly, even foolishly.

There’s no sense of having to use the seeds sparingly—the sower throws the seeds all over and trusts that there will be fruit.

Jesus explains that the seeds are “the word of the kingdom.” Like the sower, Jesus is not worrying about who will hear it as good news and who will be resistant to it. He’s throwing invitations into the Beloved Community lavishly, without regard to who’s “worthy” or what “type” people might be. The invitation is as abundant as the Beloved Community itself.

If we emulate the sower, we don’t need to be concerned with what type of soil we are or others are.

When we’re worried about typing ourselves, our focus is inward. We’re riddled with anxiety about whether we’re bearing enough fruit and how deep our roots are. That’s a scarcity mindset that doesn’t leave room for the abundance of the Beloved Community.

And when we find ourselves typing others, our focus is outward, but in a way that judges others instead of embracing them. 

We’re looking at someone and deciding that they must only come to church because their family does, but we don’t know the faithful questions they’re struggling with on the inside. 

Or we notice that someone stopped going to church after a difficult situation in their life and we judge them instead of checking in to see if they need support.

Or we read about the “nones” with no religious affiliation or the “dones” who have walked away from institutional religion, and we make assumptions instead of listening to the deep hurt religion has caused them or people they love. Their integrity in taking a stand is something to be admired, not judged.

And when we’re focused on how others are measuring up, that’s usually a good sign that we’re insecure about some aspect of ourselves. A judging mindset doesn’t leave room for the generosity of the Beloved Community.

But when our focus is on the sower, we see the lavish Beloved Community at work, and we can lay down our sense of scarcity and judgment and take up a sense of abundance and generosity instead.

Not everyone is going to receive the message of the Beloved Community as good news, but the invitation is for everyone. And the sower doesn’t worry about “wasting” the invitation. There will be enough fruit for everyone.

So, let’s leave the personality tests to Buzzfeed, and let’s live abundantly and generously together in the Beloved Community.

That is good news.

First Lutheran Church

July 9, 2023 – Pentecost 6A

Romans 7:15-20, 25a -  I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. Now if I do what I do not want, I agree that the law is good. But in fact it is no longer I that do it, but sin that dwells within me. For I know that nothing good dwells within me, that is, in my flesh. I can will what is right, but I cannot do it. For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do. Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I that do it, but sin that dwells within me. … Wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!

Matthew 11:28-30“Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” 

“The Yoke of Christ”

Pastor Greg Ronning

This old heart, is tired and I don’t think I can take anymore

This old heart, is lonely, down and out on the floor

This old heart, is yours now, I surrender, open the door

I don’t understand my own actions, I don’t understand the things I do

There’s a darkness that whispers in my ear

There’s a darkness that knows all my fears

This old heart, is tired and I don’t think I can take anymore

This old heart, is lonely, down and out on the floor

This old heart, is yours now, I surrender, open the door

I used to think I didn’t need anyone, I used to think I was so strong

I was gonna climb that ladder to heaven

I was gonna rise up out of my sin

This old heart, is tired and I don’t think I can take anymore

This old heart, is lonely, down and out on the floor

This old heart, is yours now, I surrender, open the door

Oh wretched one that I am, Who will rescue me from death?

“Come to me,” I hear the voice say

“Come to me, I will show you the way.”

This old heart, is tired and I don’t think I can take anymore

This old heart, is lonely, down and out on the floor

This old heart, is yours now, I surrender, open the door

“Come to me all who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light." 

For those of us with tired, lonely, - old hearts, those of us who struggle with life and faith, today’s Gospel is certainly good news – “come to me,- I will show you the way.”

This wonderful promise, spoken by Jesus, found in today’s Gospel, is in many ways a direct response to all the “angst” expressed by St. Paul in today’s epistle from the book of Romans, “I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate;” finally concluding, “O Wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death?”

I don’t know about you - but today’s scripture readings resonate deeply within me.  I can feel the struggle, the turmoil, the ethical and the spiritual “angst” in St. Paul’s words, “I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. ….”   And so it is that my “tired lonely old heart” longs for rest, for peace, for a “yoke” that that is “easier” and a “burden” that is “lighter” than the burdens I seem to always be carrying around with me. 

“I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.”  I imagine that Paul’s confession rings true for almost all of us as we struggle with everything from the simple everyday things in life, to the more complicated things, and even those things that are more “ultimate” in nature. 

Theologian Bruce Epperly writes, “While we may not share Paul’s understanding of sin as a force that possesses us, warring in us contrary to our highest desires, - we recognize the reality of sin, embodied in the interplay of family of origin, genetics, environment, economics, gender and sexuality, and personal decision-making. The heaviness of the past, confirmed by thousands of habitual responses, can seem to overcome our best intentions.”

“We do not do what we want, but we do the very thing we hate.”  We want to eat foods that are healthier for us, but we can’t resist the easy foods that jump out at us while we are shopping.  We want to embrace a healthier lifestyle, but we can’t seem to find that thirty minutes a day for exercise.  We want to spend more time with our families, but the lure of work and other self-imposed “responsibilities”entrap us.  And our smart phones make it “too easy” to check just one more email or take that quick look at Facebook which inevitably leads to yet another hour of wandering deep into the digital world of the Internet.  We want to stay sober or virtuous, but temptation is constant and overwhelming.  We want to reach out to the poor and vulnerable, but we are afraid to give and share too much, we worry about scarcity and security. 

The list goes on and on and on.  We each have different lists, but we all seem to have that list of “things we do not want to do,” even things we “hate,”things that for many, and often complicated reasons, we cannot stop doing.  Epperly concludes, “We are a bundle of ambivalent feelings.”

Yes, St. Paul’s words, “I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate;” are very familiar words that express the human condition.  And it’s frustrating, it’s exasperating, it’s aggravating, it’s annoying; and it can become depressing, debilitating, disheartening, - a heavy burden to bear.  In desperation St. Paul finally cries out, “O Wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death?”  And I know where he’s coming from, I know how he feels, I know what it’s like, because - I’ve been there, I am there, and unfortunately - I will be there again.  Perhaps you know that feeling too?

Thankfully Paul’s story does not end “there,” it does not end in self-pity, it does not end in hopelessness, it does not end with a broken heart - that is unable to “dance to the flute” or passionately pursue its vocation “as if it were possessed!”  No, Paul’s great “angst” is instead interrupted by a voice, a soft yet strong voice, a still small voice, a familiar voice, the voice of Christ, “Come, - come to me, - come to me and I will give you rest.”  “My yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

“My yoke is easy.”  At first glance Jesus’ promise of a “yoke” doesn’t sound attractive, it doesn’t sound like such a good deal.  You see, a yoke was a device primarily used to connect two beasts of burden together for the purpose of pulling a plow or a wagon.  (Not my idea of light and easy.) The yoke was a symbol of obedience and hard work.  And for many it was a symbol of slavery, - perhaps you’ve heard the phrase, “the yoke of slavery.”  So “no thanks” on the whole yoke thing, I already feel like a beast of burden, that doesn’t sound like “easy,” it doesn’t sound “light,” and it certainly does not sound like “freedom” from my struggles.

This idea of taking on a “yoke” is especially hard for those of us who have grown up in a society that emphasizes individuality, independence, - and the myth of the rugged individualist who is able to pull themselves up by their own bootstraps.“I don’t need anyone,”“I am strong enough to do it all by myself.”

Yet, that’s what Jesus offers us.  So, we need to take a closer look at the invitation.  And that’s when we once again realize that Jesus is not a simplistic answer,that Jesus is not a magical answer, that Jesus is not a “personal” answer, that Jesus is not a quick fix.  No, Jesus, following Jesus, practicing the faith of Jesus, - is actually quite radical and extremely counter cultural.   It demands a surrender, in particular a surrender to the American myth of individualism, a surrender to selfish control, a surrender to isolation.  It demands a surrender “into” community, into relationship, into dependence on others, into the body of Christ – which is the yoke of Christ.  And ironically it is this kind of surrender, the willingness to be yoked in this manner, which leads us to true freedom, that peace that passes all understanding, and a place where life’s burdens are lighter.  Lighter because they are shared with each other, lighter because they are shared with Christ. 

The yoke of Jesus is an invitation to turn away from our fallen desire to be in isolation - and to put one’s “self” deeply into the family of God.  It’s an invitation to reconnect to the body of Christ, - that expression of God powerfully manifest in this world.  It’s an invitation to exchange independence for interdependence.  It’s an invitation to replace fear with grace.  It’s the invitation to place your “self” into a community that will in turn increase your faith, make you stronger, and allow you to more fully live out your great calling in life.

The simple truth is that our hearts just weren’t made to do the hard work of “life” - all alone.  Our hearts were not made out of stone but rather a tender vulnerability that needs – that demands - a deep connection.  Our hearts were not made to beat alone - but rather to beat in rhythm with others, to share the dance of life, and in doing so - to open us up to the very presence of God, which is the body of Christ.  This is the “yoke” we have been invited into, the yoke that is easier, a yoke that shares life, a yoke that, once again, ironically, makes life more abundant.

Once again Theologian Bruce Epperly, sums it up well, “Healing of mind, body, or spirit, is never an individualistic enterprise. We need a beloved community of friends and family and the unmerited grace of God. Paul cries out, “Who will save me?” And, then, responds doxologically, “Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!” We might also add, “Thanks be to God who places us in the body of Christ and among friends and loved ones who accept and challenge us!”

So let us give thanks to God, to the God who has placed us here in this place, to the Spirit who in the waters of baptism has placed us here side by side as brothers and sisters, and to Christ who has yoked us all together.  Yoked together in order that we might know love, that we might understand grace, that we might experience healing, that we might be transformed, that we might be made strong in sharing each other’s burdens, all that we might live out our own unique calling, as individuals and communities of faith.   As I like to say - it’s always good to be with “faithful people doing faithful things.”  It makes life a little easier, it makes the burdens lighter, and the joy more complete.  Amen.

First Lutheran Church

Pentecost 4A + July 2, 2023

Matthew 10:40-42"Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me.  Whoever welcomes a prophet in the name of a prophet will receive a prophet's reward; and whoever welcomes a righteous person in the name of a righteous person will receive the reward of the righteous; and whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones in the name of a disciple—truly I tell you, none of these will lose their reward." 

Sermon “The Vision of Sir Launfal”

This morning I would like to share with you a short story based on the poem, "The Vision of Sir Launfal,” written by James Russell Lowell, first published in 1848.

***

It was a perfect day in June, one of those days when heaven reaches down and touches the earth.  It was warm and fresh, the hills were green, the flowers were in bloom, the birds were singing.   All of creation was bright and alive.

It was a perfect day for Sir Launfal to begin his quest.  Sir Launfal was a grand and noble man, he was the Lord of the county, and his quest was holy and pure.  Today he would mount his trusty steed and go out in search of the holy grail, the very cup that our Lord used "In the night he was betrayed," the cup that held the saving blood of God.

Sir Launfal put on his finest clothes, bright colors that represented his family, his land, and his faith.  He then carefully put on his armor, the bright polished silver of a great knight.  He strapped his golden sword to his side, and grab his shield, adorned with his proud and noble crest.

As he stepped out into the day, the sun danced upon him.  The call went out to lower the drawbridge and open the gate, Sir Launfal mounted his horse and paraded out of his castle.  The people cheered their Knight as he made his way out into his adventure.

When he arrived at the gate Sir Launfal became aware of a leper standing at the side of the road.  The man was so foul and bent that Launfal's flesh began to crawl.  The man appear to Launfal as a blot on the beautiful summer morning. 

In scorn he tossed the man a piece of gold and rode off on his holy quest.

The leper did not stoop over to pick up the gold, he only muttered to himself, "He gives nothing but worthless Gold."

Sir Launfal searched far and near all summer long but had not found the holy grail.  And now the warm breezes of summer were being replaced by the cold winds of winter.  Flowers gave way to snow flakes.  The birds were gone, but still Sir Launfal searched and searched.

Finally, one day he noticed that his bright and fine clothes were now tattered and torn, thin and faded, his once bright and shiny armor no longer reflected the sun, but instead was giving way to rust.  And Sir Launfal noticed that he had become a bit bent and gray.  Winter had taken its toll.  The proud and noble Knight was gone, all that was left was a tired and hungry man.  His quest had made him nothing more than a beggar.

Soon it was Christmas, Launfal found himself suffering and alone.  That night he had a dream.  He dreamed that he was returning to his castle, it was summer again, everything was bright and warm like that day that he left.  And as he approached the gate to his castle he recognized the leper, the one to which he had thrown the gold piece to on the day that his quest began.  This time Sir Launfal felt compassion for the man who once made his skin crawl.  Deep in his soul he knew more about suffering and poverty.  So this time Sir Launfal stopped.  He reached into his saddle bag and pulled out a cup and plate.  He pulled out a scrap of bread and put in on the plate, he then walked over to the stream that flowed outside of the castle and filled the cup with water.  He then reached out and gave the cup and the plate to the foul and bent man.

And as the beggar received the cup and the plate, the Leper began to change.  A light shone down, and the beggar became bright and tall, fair and straight.  And the simple cup and plate turned to gold.  The Leper spoke, "Do not be afraid, it is I.  You have found the Holy Grail for which you have been searching.

The Crust is my body broken for thee

This water my blood shed for thee

the Holy Supper is kept indeed

When we share with another in need

Not what we give, but what we share

for the gift without the giver is bare

He who gives of himself feeds three

Himself, his neighbor, and me

Sir Launfal awoke from his dream, he knew that the holy grail for which he was searching waited for him at home, just outside his castle.

It is now said that in the county of Sir Launfal- there is no poverty.  The castle gates are open wide, and all are welcome to feast inside.

Let those who have ears, hear!

Poets, writers, and theologians, Mythology, suggest that the Holy Grail is “an object or goal that is sought after for its great significance,”“something that you want very much but something that is very hard to get or achieve.”  Something worth seeking after with all your heart, all your soul, all your mind, and even all your resources!

What is your Holy Grail?  And more importantly, what’s the Holy Grail that God has invited you to seek out? To seek out with all your heart, all your soul, all your mind, and even all your resources!

This morning we are reminded that the Holy Grail is not something that is found by climbing high mountains, achieving advanced spiritual enlightenment, - by undertaking a holy quest.  But rather it is something you already possess, something that is very near to you, something that exists in “your ordinary,” perhaps in the least of these who surround you every day; something you can put your hands on in the simple act of giving, especially in the giving of your self.

Let those who have eyes, see, and let those who have ears, hear!

And finally, as we prepare to celebrate the Fourth of July,I am reminded of another poem, the poem found on the Statue of Liberty, “The New Colossus” by Emma Lazurus (1883)

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her nameMother of Exiles.

From her beacon-hand

Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

May it be so.  Amen.