The Parable of the Sower isn’t really about the sower at all, except somewhat in passing, nor is it really about the seeds.  It is about the soils, that is, the receptivity of us human beings to God’s message.  And, in a sense, that is the same with parables in general: just how receptive will we be to their deeper and sometimes not so obvious message?  Will we be like the inner circle of Jesus’ disciples who wanted to know more, or will we be like the crowds who maybe just heard what seemed to them to be an engaging and interesting story?  But even there, did the story begin to take root and eventually produce results?  That was up to them, just as it is up to us.  And so the questions remain: Just how well will we hear, and Just how will such hearing impact our daily lives?

The story of Jesus, Simon the Pharisee and the so-called ‘sinful’ woman reminds us of how much we have received from Jesus and how grateful we should be for that.  For those of us who have always been what our society labels as ‘respectable’ and who have always been church going, upright people, people who can almost imagine that we ‘deserve’ it or have ‘earned’ it, this may be more difficult.  Nevertheless, all that we are and have, and certainly our salvation, are entirely unmerited gifts from a loving and gracious God.  It is helpful always to be reminded of this.

The life, ministry and example of John the Baptist always gives me pause, always challenges me, for he was tireless and unstinting in his efforts to point people to Jesus, which he did regardless of the cost and regardless of the reception he received.  So I find myself asking of myself, ‘am I labouring to do likewise, to do my best to point others to Jesus, whether by word or by action?  Good questions indeed, and ones worth asking of each of us.

Something that astounded me years ago when I first heard it, and still astounds me, is that God has at times allowed Himself to be limited, to be limited by our lack of faith.  This idea, this truth, was revealed to me in the account of Jesus’ visit to His home synagogue in Nazareth.  The text says that He "did not do many miracles there, because of their lack of faith” (Matthew 13:58).  This, then, is very sad, for I believe that God can do great and glorious things, things that we might well consider to be impossible (as illustrated in today’s text), but that then we limit Him by refusing to go to Him, as did the centurion, and trust Him to do the impossible.  May we, you and I, grow in faith and become more like that man in his faith.

I guess it often comes down to a certain question, namely upon what or who are we going to depend upon?  Where it becomes problematic is that we are just naturally ‘wired’ to depend on ourselves, or on some human being or resource (like money or information or our own wisdom, experience, and ideas) rather than on God.  That was the problem for ancient Israel, and not much has changed since then.  The problem is, of course, that human institutions invariably fail us when needed and our human wisdom and understanding is limited at best and even wrong at times.  Even so, we find it ‘hard’ to put that aside and place our trust and dependence more fully in God.  But that, that exactly, is what we are called to do.

It took me literally hours to ‘come down for landing’ on this text and meditation, as it is one of the most perplexing subjects in all of Scripture.  Many approaches could have been taken, but the one that I wanted to remain true to it the idea that the Scriptures are the authoritative word of God for all time. That meant that I wasn’t really free to dismiss any of the passages as being wrong or outdated.  It also left me in something of a quandary in terms of how to apply it to our lives today and our current contexts.

I wonder whether there was ever a more difficult, and perhaps more necessary, set of teachings than Jesus’ words that we read today.  In a world that is terribly divided, terribly partisan over almost every conceivable issue, there is plenty of room for hurt and injury and outright hostility and rancor.  I find this even in my own life and own circle of interests.  So, how do we give each other the ‘space’, the listening ear, the attempts to understand that we would wish for ourselves?  It’s a tough one, especially where, in some cases, I resist even chatting with them, for fear that I will have ‘my head bit off.’  Anyway, there’s something to think about for today--and hopefully, to work on.

Lots of people have raised questions about those individuals whom Jesus chose as His disciples, and certainly many of us would ‘wonder’ considering how they turned out, at least in the short run.  Certainly, Judas Iscariot came up a rotter, but then the others weren’t much better.  Not only did they consistently misunderstand what Jesus was saying, bicker and argue among themselves who was the greatest and jockey for position, but when the crunch really came, they either denied or deserted Him.  And yet, Jesus stuck with them anyway.  And so there is hope for us: all of us likewise fail Christ in many ways, and yet here too Jesus sticks with us and helps us along in our feeble efforts.  Thanks be to God.

Today’s passage and meditation poses quite a question for many of us.  Most of us abide by some sort of established rules or expectations, whether that be at home, in our churches and other institutions, or in our society or world at large.  I think that this is something of a ‘given’.  But are those rules such that they actually help or benefit people in general, or even specific people groups with their particular needs and situations?  Those are pretty difficult questions to answer, but nevertheless are probably good ones to ponder and address.

And in case, we don’t think this applies, just think about our churches: are there expectations about dress or deportment or participation?  For instance, in one of my churches it was pointed out that active participation was very difficult for people on a limited income or with large families.  Church suppers were out of the question for that large a family and even parish potlucks or coffee hours were a strain as everyone was expected to bring something at least occasionally.  And large families avoided taking part because they felt they were ‘sponging’ off others.  Something to think about.

I, for one, do not always appreciate being ‘stretched’ mentally, philosophically, or spiritually into new or unfamiliar directions--and certainly if doing so forces me into new roles or decisions.  (This is all the more so, given my years and my ‘supposed’ retirement.  I am quite reluctant to take on new ideas or ‘adventures’.)

But this certainly was what Jesus was asking of His disciples and the crowds.  No one would have ever seen Levi as a potential disciple, but then, who might have expected in times past that you and I might be doing the things that we are now up to?  And this is true, in terms both of our lives as Christians and our everyday lives as well.  And, it’s not just our actions, our activities, but our thinking, attitudes, and opinions as well.  Daily we’re being asked to re-examine these.  Now whether changing them is what God wants or not is a moot point because even entertaining them and investigating them can be rather stretching.  And maybe this is a good thing, as it helps us think critically, expands our horizons, and maybe even readies us for the new directions He does want us to take.

Wow.  September has already come and gone, and before we know it, it will be Advent, the season leading up to Christmas.  Our Scripture lesson and meditation for today poses a question that we must all deal with--and not just in the Advent season.  It is a question of who Jesus is--and who He is to us.  Those are questions that we must face--and answer--every single day.

Our psalmist’s hope and confidence in God is based on his and other people’s experiences of God.  That is what he drew upon as the grounds for his faith.  And so, it is worthwhile for us today to ponder for a moment, and consider our own experiences of God, and those that we might have garnered second hand, and see whether they might sustain us in our faith.  For myself, I have a wealth of experiences of knowing God’s protection, intervention, guidance, and help, but these may not be true of everyone, so it is well-worth checking this out for each of us.  And, should we feel that these are lacking, the Lord is always there and always willing to show Himself, help us and work in our lives.  We have only to ask, and try Him for ourselves.

The fact of Jesus’ temptation is one of the most reassuring things that I have ever heard of--to think that He endured all the various kinds of temptations that we face.  It means that He fully understands what it is like for us, and to think that He met those temptations, and resisted them, armed with no further resources than what we have, is greatly reassuring.  It truly depicts a God who understands, is there for us, and who can help us.