July 16, 2017

6th Week after PentecostYear A

Jesus’ familiar “Parable of the Sower” — about a farmer sowing seeds — can be seen in a new light through the lens of Thomas Merton’s book New Seeds of Contemplation. Merton was a twentieth-century monk and spiritual writer, who lived in Kentucky and was a prolific writer.  I will share with you two separate excerpts from Merton then briefly reflect on each one for some of the meaning I see in them as they might apply to this parable.

Merton writes:

Every moment and every event of every person’s life on earth plants something in her or his soul.  For just as the wind carries thousands of winged seeds, so each moment brings with it germs of spiritual vitality that come to rest imperceptibly in the minds and wills of men and women.  Most of these unnumbered seeds perish and are lost, for such seeds as these cannot spring up anywhere except in the good soil of freedom, spontaneity and love.

Merton is inviting us to see that Jesus’ Parable of the Sower is not about the occasional moment when God or a well-meaning person sows a seed about God. Rather, everything at every moment of every part of our lives is a seed suffused with life-giving spiritual import. This claim is not to say that everything that happens is good or controlled by God; instead it is to say that the sort of soil that we are — good, bad, rock-filled, and thorn-infested — in each arising present moment effects how we receive the seeds of experience that are always being sown around us and within us.

Merton uses three words to describe good soil: “freedom, spontaneity, and love.” 

Consider that our commitment to spiritual practices like the Holy Eucharist, contemplative prayer, and works of mercy (like feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, and visiting the sick) help till and fertilize the inner soil of our souls.  Regularly practicing silence and reflection has a way of grounding us so that we can be receptive to the seed of the living Christ, contemplative prayer can help us cultivate the soil of inner freedom, as we practice setting aside our agenda and simply opening ourselves to God’s presence.

Regularly coming together for corporate prayer and worship can help cultivate the inner soil of spontaneity as we practice setting aside any plans for one day each week and open ourselves to receiving the day in gratitude as it naturally unfolds without undue work or effort on our part. 

And practicing works of mercy can help cultivate the inner soil of love, for as we practice setting aside our egos and engage in acts of loving-kindness toward others we find love becomes more and more our second nature. 

So, one of our invitations is to discern what spiritual practices God is calling us individually and collectively to engage that we may cultivate within ourselves the good soil of “freedom, spontaneity, and love” and receive the seeds that God is sowing in our lives.

In the second passage I would like to share with you, Merton writes:

Unnatural, frantic, anxious work, work done under pressure of greed or fear or any other inordinate passion, cannot properly speaking be dedicated to God, because God never wills such work directly. God may permit that through no fault of our own we may have to work madly and distractedly, due to our sins, and to the sins of the society in which we live. In that case we must tolerate it and make the best of what we cannot avoid. But let us not be blind to the distinction between sound, healthy work and unnatural toil.

I find this passage challenging for at least two reasons.  First, Merton names our tendency to introduce toxins into our inner soil through our fear, anxiety, and selfishness. These toxins poison the seeds that God is sowing in our lives and inhibit our growth. 

Second, I find this passage challenging because Merton names that there are toxic systems of prejudice and corruption that deeply affect us — and our inner soil — but that are also out of our direct control because these toxic systems are so large and pervasive.  But if we are to have any hope of redeeming these toxic systems — even in part — we must begin with tilling our own soil. 

As Mother Teresa of Calcutta said, “Before you try to love the entire world, start by loving one other person.  You can save only one at a time.  We can love only one at a time.”

In light of Merton’s insights, notice that we have already begun practicing these lesson here and now, by being present today for this Holy Eucharist and recognizing the seeds being sown by God in the arising of this present moment. 

At the conclusion of this homily and before we reaffirm our faith in the words of the Nicene Creed, I want to ask that we take a minute of contemplative silence.  During this time, I invite you to open yourself to how God has been calling you in recent days and weeks to engage in your own spiritual practice, to till your inner soil.

What seeds have been sown around you?  What has been the recent state of the soil of your mind . . . the soil of your heart . . . the soil of body . . . and the soil of your soul?

What practices may God be calling you to do that can till the good soil of your heart, soul, mind, or body?

Are there seeds that God has been sowing that in this moment you are ready to allow to be planted?

What people or places or activities in your life is God inviting you to move toward?

Let anyone with ears to hear, listen.

Amen.