WRideout
07-02-2016, 07:40 AM
From sermon given in 2011 at Holy Trinity Lutheran Church, Chicora PA
Matthew 13:1-9
It has been said, by a famous person whose name I do not know, that “it gives me pause to consider that life as we know it depends on six inches of topsoil, and the presence of earthworms.” As a professional environmental scientist for over twenty years, I learned a bit about soil. We are talking about soil here; dirt is what you wash off your clothes. Good garden soil has desirable properties. If you squeeze a handful, it stays in a ball that is slightly crumbly. It has a pungent aroma that is not at all unpleasant. It holds just enough water, and is filled with nutrients that feed plants. Soil is the magical stuff that supports life.
Soil is a living thing; it originates in bare rock, and is transformed as it breaks into smaller and smaller chunks that wash down hill. It starts out as one type of soil, and then changes as it moves on its steady migration, depending on where it lies, and what is growing in it. Bacteria live in the soil, and help it to become fertile. Small animals turn and mix the soil, making it easier for plants to take root. A shovel full of good topsoil is a minor miracle.
This church, located in farm country, is witness to the seasonal changes in the fields brought about by nature, and by the hand of man. Soil that lies dormant in winter must be made ready for planting. Remnants of old crops must be turned under. The soil must be plowed and furrows made for planting. Sometimes amendments such as limestone are added to correct chemical imbalance. In order to insure a full crop, fertilizer must be applied. The crop must be watered by rain, or by irrigation, for the plants to grow. When all this preparation has been done, the new plants spring from the ground, to reach for the sunshine they crave. If plants can feel joy, I believe they must be joyful when they burst out of the soil in the spring.
In my life, I have been reluctant to let God garden with me. I was the bare rock being weathered by pounding rain, and freezing cold. I resisted being broken by God’s plow, because I loved the tangled mass of sinful weeds that grew in my soul. Proud of my abilities and disdainful of help from any source, I finally became a flat, gravelly desert, overgrown with thorns and weeds. It was not until I asked God to prepare me in the way that he would, that my life began to change for the better. This process was not easy or simple; it was sometimes painful. But I would do it again, for it has made me a different person.
Jesus tells us that when the seed of the word is planted in a Christian, it leads to bountiful harvest. In Jesus’ time, there were twelve Christians. By some estimates there are now more than 2.1 billion, and there is no end in sight to the spread of Christianity throughout the world. One of the most beautiful sights in nature is a ripe field of grain; heads heavy on their stalks, ready to be harvested. Sometimes I like to think of all who have known Christ in the same way. A field of believers, a great cloud of witnesses; gathered together to worship, commune and pray to the Holy God of Israel, the maker and creator of all things. I pray that some of them may be there because my soil was fertile.
Matthew 13:1-9
It has been said, by a famous person whose name I do not know, that “it gives me pause to consider that life as we know it depends on six inches of topsoil, and the presence of earthworms.” As a professional environmental scientist for over twenty years, I learned a bit about soil. We are talking about soil here; dirt is what you wash off your clothes. Good garden soil has desirable properties. If you squeeze a handful, it stays in a ball that is slightly crumbly. It has a pungent aroma that is not at all unpleasant. It holds just enough water, and is filled with nutrients that feed plants. Soil is the magical stuff that supports life.
Soil is a living thing; it originates in bare rock, and is transformed as it breaks into smaller and smaller chunks that wash down hill. It starts out as one type of soil, and then changes as it moves on its steady migration, depending on where it lies, and what is growing in it. Bacteria live in the soil, and help it to become fertile. Small animals turn and mix the soil, making it easier for plants to take root. A shovel full of good topsoil is a minor miracle.
This church, located in farm country, is witness to the seasonal changes in the fields brought about by nature, and by the hand of man. Soil that lies dormant in winter must be made ready for planting. Remnants of old crops must be turned under. The soil must be plowed and furrows made for planting. Sometimes amendments such as limestone are added to correct chemical imbalance. In order to insure a full crop, fertilizer must be applied. The crop must be watered by rain, or by irrigation, for the plants to grow. When all this preparation has been done, the new plants spring from the ground, to reach for the sunshine they crave. If plants can feel joy, I believe they must be joyful when they burst out of the soil in the spring.
In my life, I have been reluctant to let God garden with me. I was the bare rock being weathered by pounding rain, and freezing cold. I resisted being broken by God’s plow, because I loved the tangled mass of sinful weeds that grew in my soul. Proud of my abilities and disdainful of help from any source, I finally became a flat, gravelly desert, overgrown with thorns and weeds. It was not until I asked God to prepare me in the way that he would, that my life began to change for the better. This process was not easy or simple; it was sometimes painful. But I would do it again, for it has made me a different person.
Jesus tells us that when the seed of the word is planted in a Christian, it leads to bountiful harvest. In Jesus’ time, there were twelve Christians. By some estimates there are now more than 2.1 billion, and there is no end in sight to the spread of Christianity throughout the world. One of the most beautiful sights in nature is a ripe field of grain; heads heavy on their stalks, ready to be harvested. Sometimes I like to think of all who have known Christ in the same way. A field of believers, a great cloud of witnesses; gathered together to worship, commune and pray to the Holy God of Israel, the maker and creator of all things. I pray that some of them may be there because my soil was fertile.