We Are All Sowers

Today’s gospel is the Parable of the Sower.

You all know that I like to twist parables and look at them from different angles.

I do that, not to force them into a meaning that I want.

I do that, because that is the way we are supposed to look at parables.

To look at alternate meanings and different perspectives.

We’ll get to that a little later, but I’d like to start by reminding us that we are all sowers.

We sow seeds of faith.

We sow seeds of faith when we show up to church to hear the word of God proclaimed.

The sowing comes, not from just showing up, but from being truly present.

Our presence sows seeds of faith in ourselves and in the Body of Christ around us.

We sow seeds of faith when we engage in honest reflection and discussion about what Jesus has called us to do.

The sowing comes from sharing, not only our convictions, but also our doubts.

We sow seeds of faith when we show up in the community as the hands and feet of God.

The sowing doesn’t come from being someone who has that shares with the “have nots”.

The sowing comes from being a disciple of Jesus that demonstrates God’s love through our actions.

St. Oscar Romero said, “We plant the seeds that one day will grow.

We water seeds already planted, knowing that they hold future promise.”

We sow seeds of friendship and community.

We sow seeds of friendship and community by living into our Welcome Statement, which says:

“We welcome all because it is fundamental to our belief that we are all children of God, regardless of race, culture, country of origin, or the language that you speak—regardless of sexual or romantic orientation—regardless of gender, gender identity, or gender expression—regardless of relationship status.

We welcome all without regard to addictions, physical or mental health, imprisonment, socio-economic circumstances, or any of the categories that too often divide us.

We welcome all without regard to where you are on your personal faith journey—whether you are a life-long Lutheran, you come from another faith tradition, you are doubting, or whether you have no faith practice at all.”

We sow seeds of friendship and community by being, not only welcoming, but also affirming, understanding that each of our human siblings is a beloved child of God that reflects God’s beauty, divinity, and diversity.

We sow seeds of friendship and community because we have done the work to ensure that we are a safe space for people of every sexual, gender, race, and cultural identity.

And we are committed to continuing that work to make ourselves better and remain a safe space.

We sow seeds of friendship and community when we provide safe space for children to learn and grow and have fun so, for a few hours, they can forget the fear that their parents will be abducted by the government.

“We plant the seeds that one day will grow.

We water seeds already planted, knowing that they hold future promise.”

And we sow seeds of hope.

We sow seeds of hope when we stand with our siblings against injustice, whether it is at a No Kings protest or at a prayer vigil at Delaney Hall.

We sow seeds of hope when we proclaim the gospel: “to bring Good News to those who are poor, to proclaim liberty to those held captive, recovery of sight to those who are blind, and release to those in prison, to proclaim the year of our God’s favor.”

We sow seeds of hope when we provide shelter from the elements and showers to our siblings without homes.

We sow seeds of hope when we share food with our siblings who are hungry.

We sow seeds of hope when we care for one another—whether it is by sharing a kind word, visiting someone who is lonely, or consoling someone who is grieving.

“We plant the seeds that one day will grow.

We water seeds already planted, knowing that they hold future promise.”

We are each sowers, my friends.

And we sow as Jesus sowed.

And here comes the twist.

When reading the parable, we typically focus on the soil¬—what constitutes good soil and bad.

The problem with that perspective is that it puts us in a position of judgment.

And it’s not soil we’re judging, it’s people.

We’re judging whether those people are worthy of our effort—whether we do it consciously or subconsciously.

But let’s flip the parable and look at it from the perspective of the sower.

The sower sows seed EVERYWHERE—regardless of where it may fall.

If we are being judgmental, that seems wasteful.

Why sow seeds that may not grow?

But the sower sows everywhere.

Because that is grace.

God’s grace is available to everyone, whether they chose to live into that gift or not.

God’s grace is unconditional—whether the soil of our hearts is the hard ground of a well-worn path, rocky ground, or overrun with thorny weeds.

God still sows the seeds of grace.

And that is the message I hope that you will carry away from here today.

As followers of Jesus, we sow as Jesus sows—with wild abandon.

We sow seeds everywhere—without judgment.

We sows seeds from a position of abundance—trusting that God will provide.

A friend of mine shared the following.

I shared it with the Council because I thought it was important, but I share it with you all now.

Because it is important for us to have an abundance mindset because the opposite—scarcity—is self defeating.

Scarcity quietly teaches you that there is never enough.

Not enough money.

Not enough volunteers.

Not enough young families.

Not enough time.

Not enough hope.

Not enough future.

And before long, fear becomes the driving force behind every decision.

We stop asking, "Where is God calling us?" and we start asking, "What can we afford?"

We stop asking, "Who needs to hear the Gospel?" and we start asking, "How do we keep the lights on?"

We stop dreaming and we start just surviving.

But here is the problem with thinking that way.

The Bible is relentlessly, almost offensively, a story of abundance.

Abraham thinks there is no sacrifice and God provides a ram.

Israel thinks they will starve and God provides manna.

A widow thinks she's down to her last meal and her flour and oil don't run out.

Five loaves and two fish become enough for thousands—with baskets left over.

The tomb is empty because even death doesn't get the final word.

The story of Scripture is never that there wasn't enough.

It's that God kept providing in ways nobody expected.

Now, to be clear, abundance isn't pretending budgets don't matter or ignoring reality.

Abundance is the conviction that God's future is always bigger than our fear.

Scarcity says, "Protect what you have."

The Gospel says, "Take. Eat. There is enough."

Scarcity says, "Close the doors."

Jesus says, "Welcome the stranger."

Scarcity says, "We can't."

The resurrection says, "Watch what God can do."

I wonder how many churches are dying—not because they're poor, or small, or aging—but because they've spent so long listening to scarcity that they've forgotten the language of resurrection.

Maybe the greatest miracle our churches need isn't more people.

Maybe it's the courage to believe that God's abundance is still real.

Because we don't worship the God of barely enough.

We worship the God who keeps feeding hungry people until there are baskets left over."

We worship a God who sows seeds EVERYWHERE—on all kinds of soil.

Because our God is a God of abundance.

Our God is a God of grace.

And, as followers of that God, we plant the seeds that one day will grow.

And we water seeds already planted, knowing that they hold future promise.

So keep sowing, my friends.

Keep watering.

And keep nurturing those seeds of faith and community and hope.

May this meditation on God’s word keep our hearts and mind on Christ Jesus. Amen.