Pentecost 7 – 2026
Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23
Marian Free
In the name of God whose, wild, careless generosity spreads love and goodness without regard, without distinction and without expectation. Amen.
Parables are perhaps the most contested area of study when it comes to the gospels. In trying to discern their original meaning scholars are faced with millennia of previous interpretations. In their original form parables had a sting in the tail that was intended to bring Jesus’ listeners up short, to make them see the world in an entirely new way. This is particularly obvious in two of the parables recorded by Luke – those we know as the Good Samaritan and the Prodigal Son. In the former Jesus sets up the scene such that his audience – good, observant Jews expect that it will be one of their number who reaches out to the injured man. It is hard for us to imagine their utter shock when it is a complete outsider, one of the despised Samaritans who is the hero of the story. The latter describes a father who defies convention and is totally without shame. No self-respecting, first century, Palestinian man would divide his inheritance before his death, let alone run down the road to the son who had so publicly shamed him. Jesus’ listeners were confronted by the impossibility that a Samaritan might be good, the idea that God would be so undignified that he would run towards a sinner, and with the absurdity that a shepherd would leave 99 sheep exposed to thieves and predators while he goes off in search of one.
Over the centuries the shock that Jesus intended has become domesticated to the point that most modern listeners find these parables comforting and worse, instead of being confronted and changed by them have reversed the stories to make them more about themselves than about God or the kingdom. So, the Good Samaritan, instead of being a story about the wrong people doing the right thing, has become an example of good people doing good deeds. Likewise, the story of the forgiving Father has become a story about God loving us instead of a story about God’s inclusion even of those who embarrass and shame him.
We should not be surprised then to learn that the parable of the sower has also been adapted in a way that makes it more about us than about God. We insert ourselves into the story asking what sort of soil we are and making judgements about those who have not accepted the gospel whereas it is really a parable about the sower, not the soil, about God, not about us. (As I have revisited the parables over the last couple of weeks I have been amazed to realise that in some ways we have managed to reverse the gospels and have made faith more about what we do for God, rather than understanding that faith is all about what God does for us.)
With this in mind, let’s have a new look at the parable of the sower.
The first thing to notice is the utter carelessness of the sower. In a country in which good ground is a scarce commodity and few farmers can afford waste, this sower tosses the precious seed with wild abandon, allowing it to fall in places in which it has absolutely no chance of growing. The resulting crop is not the primary consideration. The main concern is that the seed be spread as far and wide as possible. Another factor that seems to escape our notice is that soil is neutral. Soil is passive, it does nothing in and of itself. Unless the soil has been tended carefully by a third party it is simply fertile or infertile, rocky or not rocky, weedy or cleared, watered or not. Soil may be improved by the addition of compost or fertiliser – but it cannot improve itself. Someone has to tend the soil – break up the hardened patches where people have trodden it down, pull up the weeds, add water when it does not rain – the soil itself is not responsible for what it produces. Seeds on the other hand will do everything they can to grow – often putting down roots in the most extraordinary of circumstances.
Seen in this way, it is clear that the parable has nothing to do with the way in which people (the soil) respond to God, but everything to do with what God does. God tosses God’s love, God’s word, God’s healing power with a wild generosity, completely indifferent as to where it might land and how the soil might respond. God keeps tossing the seed regardless of whether or not it will grow and bear fruit, confident that when it does hit the right spot it will produce more than can possibly be imagined.[1]
God continues to toss the seed indiscriminately into a world that is sometimes uncomprehending, sometimes ungrateful and often indifferent, because God knows that the soil is not wholly responsible for its reaction, but the soil, good or bad, rocky or weedy needs to know God’s forgiving, non-judgement love. In other words, the parable suggests, God continues to shower the world with love, because the world needs love. God knows that there are people whose life circumstances have closed them off to the possibility that they are loved, people who have been so mistreated and abused that they have withdrawn into themselves, become bitter and angry, or have sought solace in addictive substances or the pursuit of wealth and possessions. God knows that some people will be harder to reach than others and that only unconditional love will bring about the conditions that will allow them to heal.
Seen in this light, the parable might be intended to be explanatory, a non-judgement justification for why some people don’t respond to Jesus. Jesus is challenging his listeners to ask themselves what it is that leads some people to close themselves off to Jesus’ message? Are they so hurt, so damaged that they simply cannot believe that they might be loved? Are their lives so filled with worries about how to feed their families, how to meet the deadlines of their job, how to face another day that there is no room to stop and see that there might be anything good? Have they been disappointed so often that they cannot trust that this won’t be another way in which they might be let down?
God will keep on tossing the seed of God’s love, God’s word and God’s healing power, because God knows that people who are loved unconditionally will eventually open themselves to love and healing. Our task, it seems, is to join God in the indiscriminate, unjudgmental, generous distribution of God’s love, to be understanding, compassionate, generous and nurturing even of the most difficult, most closed off and most negative people – not expecting them to change but believing that there is a possibility that love will bear fruit – 30, 60 or 100-fold.
As the sower tosses the seed of love and compassion with wild abandon so should we.
[1] A yield of 10 fold is what might be reasonably be expected let alone 30, 60, 100-fold.


