Seventh Sunday after Pentecost [Proper 15], 2026
ISAIAH 55:10-13; PSALM 65:(1-8), 9-13; ROMANS 8:1-11; MATTHEW 13:1-9, 18-23
your paths overflow with plenty
I have a little herb garden in my kitchen. I love it! It’s one of those systems that come with all you need for herbs to thrive—all you need for bunchy bundles of bushy herbs, just like in the pictures in the little manual that came in the box, right? It grows four different herbs under an automatic light on a timer; it has a little reservoir for water and for the fertilizer you add whenever you refill the water.
But I do not have a green thumb. There have been failures. Little bugs got the best of the basil; the parsley never grew at first; I probably added too many thyme seeds so that is growing but the shoots are sprouting too close together; the oregano came out a bit spindly because it didn’t get enough light; and because of some of the failures to germinate, and because I replanted the oregano in some soil that had parsley seeds in it, oregano and parsley are unintentionally growing side-by-side. The basil and parsley were such a disaster that we just bought plants at the grocery store and replanted them in their special little trays.
And now, after almost losing the basil and parsley a second time because I didn’t keep enough water in the reservoir, I finally have something at least resembling an herb garden: the basil is a bit less full than it should be, the thyme has a good number of dead shoots, the parsley is only half-dead but recovering, and even though the oregano is spindly and mixed with parsley: I have an herb garden that does not look at all like the pictures in the booklet, but is nevertheless quite serviceable. It works, and I think fewer of our grocery bought fresh herbs are ending up in the organics recycling.
All these minor disasters and modest recoveries happening in a pristine environment designed for thriving plants, has left me in awe of those who do have green thumbs, and can have more success with plants, under far less promising conditions!
There is a minor debate in the interpretation of this parable—the parable of the sower. The question is: is what Jesus was describing in the parable of the sower—with a whole lot of seeds getting planting where they did not thrive at all—was Jesus describing real farming practices? Or was Jesus describing a sower who was not particularly good at the job?
The best answer appears to be that the parable of the sower describes real farming practices of the time, but that things are exaggerated to make the point Jesus is trying to make. And perhaps because of my own lack of a green thumb, and my modest success with growing things under ideal conditions, I am a bit partial to the notion that the sower who was planting seeds was doing things mostly right—he followed the instructions in the manual—just not with as much success as might be hoped or even expected.
It’s one of the under-appreciated themes in the parables that I keep coming back to: the parables are full of imperfect people. Some of these imperfect people include those who might arguably be the characters we are to look to for some notion of what God is like. This creates a challenge when we are trying to find God in a parable, because even when we have a character that we think should probably be playing God’s part—like the father in the parable of the prodigal son, who is deeply gracious; or like the rich man and the dishonest manager, where the rich man and the dishonest manager are both gracious—well, the people we think should maybe be seen as God aren’t really up to the task of telling us as much as we would hope about God. Because the father of the prodigal son is not a particularly wise manager of his estate, either; and both the rich man and the dishonest manager are terrible managers of people and funds.
It’s been helpful to me to not go straight to “this person represents God!” and allow the meaning of the parable to unfold a little bit differently; more often than not, the best way to understand what a parable tells us about God is to say: well, if an imperfect father (like the father of the prodigal son) can be gracious like this, then how much more gracious will God be to his children? Or, if a bad supervisor (like the rich man or the dishonest manager) can still be gracious like this, then how much more gracious will God be with his servants? There is a way that parables, seen this way, can be both honest about human limits, human frailty, and human failure, while still saying something about God and God’s grace, because if imperfect people can still reveal something of who God is, there may be hope for me, and you, too.
And there is something similar happening here, in the parable of the sower. When Jesus comes to interpret this parable, we have what is an illustration of an inattentive farmer whose success seems based more on luck than it does reliable and predictable farming techniques. But Jesus, as he interprets his own parable, does not call the sower God, nor does Jesus make any direct connections to the sower and himself. The sower’s identity is left open.
Much isn’t—the seeds are the words of the kingdom, and the different sorts of ground are different sorts of people. The sower of the seeds is someone who is sharing the word with generosity, if not good technique—giving all sorts an opportunity to hear the word, even if the word does not find itself sown into lives that are well-prepared to hear the word, or for that word to flourish and grow: lives that are marked by a lack of understanding, like the ground that is too hard for a seed to germinate in; lives that are not prepared for the challenge and difficulty of what Jesus teaches, like the ground that is filled with stones; lives full of wealth and the cares of the world that keep that word from growing and thriving, like the ground full of thorns.
We should find ourselves here, and it should lead us to questions about the shape of our lives: how can I grow in understanding, and soften up the soil in the field of my heart? Could I be less hard-hearted? How can I prepare myself for the difficulties of faith, and remove the stones from the soil in the field of my heart? Could my heart be less stony? How can I reduce the distractions, the cares of the world and my obsession with wealth, and clear the weeds that choke out the good news from the soil of my heart? Could my heart be a less prickly place?
And in this we call to mind two things at once: to bear fruit, there are things we can do with our lives to prepare the soil to better hear the words of the Kingdom of God; and to remember, too, that the revelation of God in the words of the Gospel is given according to God’s will and according to God’s good grace; that God can reveal God’s own self to children well before God is revealed to even the most accomplished among us. So do prepare the soil of your heart; and wait upon the seed that will bring you life.
But there’s one more place you could find yourself in this parable. You are also a sower of the seeds of the Kingdom. Don’t confuse competence and grace! Even a largely incompetent farmer, in this parable, is throwing seeds of grace into the world. You can be almost entirely unsuccessful, and wasteful even, with a word of welcome spoken in the name of Jesus, in words of kindness spoken in the name of Jesus, in just action, but still sharing the Good News of God in Christ. Worry less about how green your thumb is, and scatter those seeds anyway.
Be reminded, too, that God’s timeline is both longer than a season of planting and reaping, and it is shorter than a season of planting and reaping. God’s season of planting and reaping is long enough that we might never know the fruits of the seeds we plant, or of the seeds planted in us. Do we not benefit in the church from seeds planted long before us? And shouldn’t we expect that some of what we plant, will bear fruit not for us, but for our children, and our children’s children?
We should probably also say that success is not necessarily a sign of blessing. What might look like good growth in the short term may not be so in the long run—in our hearts, and in the church, and in the world—failure may appear to be success, and success may turn out as failure, in God’s time. Those parsley seeds may thrive, right there in the oregano—where they most certainly are not supposed to be—according to a deeply mysterious cycle of God’s growth.
And we can experience flashes of grace in the shortest of moments, too: in a word of forgiveness, of kindness, or of welcome, words that may come from us, and maybe are received by us, that in a moment gives us an insight into God’s hope; where we are changed in a moment, opening us to the fruitfulness of God, and of our own thriving, and the thriving of others.
So prepare your hearts; be generous with words of grace; worry less about failure or success; and be steadfast in the grace of God, receiving the word of his kingdom in the words we hear from gracious friends, and from Jesus and in Jesus.
Angus Sinclair was appointed Director of Music of St. John the Evangelist on February 1, 2023. Having graduated in 1981 (Honours B.Mus.) in organ performance from Wilfrid Laurier University, he went on to distinguish himself as a church musician, recitalist and accompanist touring in both Canada and the UK. For over 40 years Angus has served parishes and congregations throughout Southwestern Ontario as director of music. He experiences his present appointment to St. John’s as a welcome homecoming, both spiritually and musically.
As our parish musician, he provides both support and leadership so that a variety of parish programs can find musical expression and attract participation. When our handbell choir is in season, he is one of our ringers. At parish dinners, he provides popular piano music for the guests to dine by. For both worship services and concerts, he will rehearse and accompany vocal and instrumental soloists from our congregation on piano, organ, or even accordion.
Angus Sinclair was appointed Director of Music of St. John the Evangelist on February 1, 2023. Having graduated in 1981 (Honours B.Mus.) in organ performance from Wilfrid Laurier University, he went on to distinguish himself as a church musician, recitalist and accompanist touring in both Canada and the UK. For over 40 years Angus has served parishes and congregations throughout Southwestern Ontario as director of music. He experiences his present appointment to St. John’s as a welcome homecoming, both spiritually and musically.