The Parish Church of St John-at-Hampstead

10th July 2005 Parish Eucharist Matthew 13: 1-9, 18- 23 Sarah Eynstone

The events of last Thursday will have left us feeling shocked and bewildered. Suddenly the everyday route to work has become extraordinary and the taken-for-granted certainties of life have been turned upside down. There will be people who begin this week mourning for the loss of loved-ones, people who are in a critical condition and for whom we pray today, and people who will have to live having seen things they should never have had to see.

Even for those who aren’t directly affected the knowledge that such suffering has taken place is distressing. That this tragedy is a deliberate act of will on the part of a few individuals makes the whole event even more incomprehensible.

I imagine we will all have been left with particular images that we find horrifying and disorientating: I was particularly struck by photographs of the British Medical Association offices. I used to pass this building daily as a student when I lived in Bloomsbury. On Thursday its white façade was covered with splatters of blood from the explosion on the bus. This seemed utterly incongruous and wrong, as indeed it is.

I have described a response which is common to all people in this city; shock, grief and perhaps anger: When we consider the plight of people in this society- both the victims and the perpetrators, we might be led from incomprehension to despair.

Many people suspect that religious fundamentalism is behind these most recent acts of terrorism. Fundamentalism can arise from using texts inappropriately. If the Bible or Koran is used in the wrong way then these texts can gain a destructive force. As Christians we know that our text is a signpost to the true Word, that is Jesus Christ. If the bible loses this significance, if it is seen as the Truth rather than as a sign post to the truth, then we are on very dangerous ground. If the text is then used as an authority to back up acts of violence then we are on the territory of destructiveness which goes against everything that is God. This is often at the heart of religious fundamentalism- and it is religious fundamentalism which can lead to the atrocities of this week.

So how are we to use our text today as a signpost to illuminate the events of last week and guard against fundamentalism of our own?

Today’s gospel is speaking to a community which, in a different way was trying to make sense, of the senseless: This passage occurs after Jesus has experienced increasing criticism from the Pharisees. The Pharisees believe he is working in the power of Beelzebul rather than God. Jesus’ Kingdom message is being rejected by many as he does not correspond with their expectations of a messiah king.

So Jesus here was ministering within a context of increasing conflict. For Matthew’s community the conflict which surrounded the ministry and message that Jesus had to proclaim would have been, at the very least, disappointing. The good news, which Matthew’s community now sought to embody and share, was one of forgiveness and resurrection; they knew the unconditional love of God which will transform humanity and so bear a rich harvest-yet their peers did not want to hear.

Part of the aim of this parable then was to make sense of the response of a people who had reacted with antagonism to the good news. Here Matthew is making clear that the problem does not lie with the sower, or with the seed, but the ground upon which the seed is sown. Wherever there are different soils setback and failure are inevitable and to be expected.

But what might this parable teach us about the incarnate Word, about Christ, and therefore about our own humanity, especially in relation to the events of the last week?
Well, an interesting aspect of this parable is that the sower is surprisingly wasteful. He does not only sow seed in areas of fertile ground but liberally scatters the seed on different types of terrain. He has no regard for how much he will get back from this investment of seed. This might seem to us an inefficient use of labour and resources. Why bother to scatter seed where it will fall on the path or among thorns if this will not deliver a good harvest?

But perhaps this is the point: What this parable demonstrates is that a liberal proclamation of the word of God has to be engaged in, in all situations, even situations of death and destruction. This is the only way to uncover the potential of the Word.
The degree of wastefulness might challenge our assumptions about what it means to be effective in the way that we worship and minister. But following the model of the sower we see that in the Church’s mission we are not called upon to be calculating but rather to be faithful.

This wastefulness also reveals something else that is very important, and that is the implicit powerlessness of the sower- he does not calculate an investment and return ratio; by giving the seed so freely he is opening himself to rejection and to a poor harvest. Christ, the Word of God, came without power and exposed himself to suffering. This is represented by the seed being scorched and eaten by birds. In reality we all know that this meant the crucifixion of Jesus Christ. In a sense this was part of the deal. As Rowan Williams has said, whilst we may despair, and indeed whilst Matthew’s community may have despaired, God thought this world was worth dying for.

This means that in the events of last week we can be sure that Christ is suffering with us and seeking to redeem us. Through offering ourselves, those we love, the unknown victims and the unknown perpetrators of the crime, to God, we are being transformed.
Being angry at God at the random and arbitrary waste of human life will not necessarily remove pain or distress but it does mean that we are seeking to make this experience a Christian one. So simply by offering the experience to Christ we provide fertile ground for the Word to take root. In this way we will become mature Christian disciples. It will also mean our distress will not become destructive to ourselves or others.

Through offering our grief to God our distress may become, over time and in unexpected ways, the harvest of the Word. The Bishop of London, commenting on the grief which we bring before God has said:
“It may even be that the brokenness that comes with grief shared with God can open us up to others at an altogether deeper level and enable us to touch those who are themselves suffering at a level so deep that words can fail.”

So, if we sow the seed on this unlikely terrain of shock and disbelief, whilst literal words may fail us, the incarnate Word can work within us in the roots of our very being to bring about an unexpected harvest. And it is from this that we see signs of the Kingdom of God even in times of greatest confusion, distress and doubt. So may God sow His Word in our hearts and bring forth an abundant harvest.

In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen