“Paying Attention, Growing Up” Matthew 13:1-23 Brett Younger August 16, 2020 The Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost That same day Jesus went out of the house and sat beside the sea. Such great crowds gathered around him that he got into a boat and sat there, while the whole crowd stood on the beach. And Jesus told them many things in parables, saying: “Listen! A sower went out to sow. And as the seeds were scattered, some fell on the path, and the birds came and ate them up. Other seeds fell on rocky ground, where they didn’t have much soil, and they sprang up quickly, since they had no depth of soil. But when the sun rose, they were scorched; and since they had no root, they withered away. Other seeds fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked them. Other seeds feel on good soil and brought forth grain, some a hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty. Let everyone pay attention!” Then the disciples came and asked him, “Why do you speak to them in parables?” He answered, “To you it’s been given to know the secrets of the kingdom of heaven, but to them it hasn’t been given. For to those who have, more will be given, and they will have an abundance; but from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away. The reason I speak to them in parables is that ‘seeing they do not perceive, and hearing they do not listen, nor do they understand.’ With them indeed is fulfilled the prophecy of Isaiah that says: ‘You will indeed listen, but never understand, and you will indeed look, but never perceive. For this people’s heart has grown dull, and their ears are hard of hearing, and they have shut their eyes; so that they might not look with their eyes, and listen with their ears, and understand with their heart and turn— and I would heal them.’ But blessed are your eyes, for they see, and your ears, for they hear. Truly I tell you, many prophets and righteous people longed to see what you see, but did not see it, and to hear what you hear, but did not hear it. Hear then the parable of the sower. When anyone hears the word of the kingdom and doesn’t understand it, the evil one comes and snatches away what is sown in the heart. This is what was sown on the path. As for what was sown on rocky ground, this is the one who hears the word and immediately receives it with joy. Yet such a person has no root, but endures only for a while, and when trouble or persecution arises on account of the word, that person immediately falls away. As for what was sown among thorns, this is the one who hears the word, but the cares of the world and the lure of wealth choke the word, and it yields nothing. But as for what was sown on good soil, this is the one who hears the word and understands it, who indeed bears fruit and yields, in one case a hundredfold, in another sixty, and in another thirty. How much do you have to know to be a full-fledged adult? Is there a certain amount of knowledge that qualifies you as mature? How many facts do you need to be a grownup? This quiz is five questions. Keep your own score. Do not say the answers out loud. The person next to you will not be impressed. Number one—What is Spiderman’s real name? Do you know that one? Number two—Which is bigger an ostrich’s eye or its brain? This could be a trick question. Number three, this is important—Who recorded Strangers in the Night in 1966? Number four—Within ten seconds, what is the longest recorded flight of a chicken? Number five—To which Christian denomination does Kamala Harris belong? The correct answers are Peter Parker, the eye, Frank Sinatra, 13 seconds, and Baptist. Did you get them all? If you did, does this knowledge put you ahead of people who have not seen any of the eight Spiderman movies, or should we be embarrassed by how much trivia we know? Growing up should include recognizing that quantity of information is not a valid measurement of growth. As a society, we have had a gigantic explosion of information. The plugged-in opportunities that surround us are sinkholes that waste our time. Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram lure us in when we are bored, and lull us into inactivity. Think of all the stupid things we do with our time. We assume multitasking is a survival strategy, but when we are doing three things at once we are not focused on any of them. We are in danger of learning lots of details, and failing to figure out which ones matter. We cannot measure how well we are doing by how well we juggle our responsibilities. We want to think we will be fine when we get back to something closer to normal, but we need to hope for more than that. She takes off work early—which means moving from her desk to the couch. She is getting through the pandemic as well as most, but quarantine makes her feel like something important is missing. She wishes that she had more, purpose. She opens the refrigerator—leftover pizza. It is green and it used to be cheese. She will wait until dinner. She looks at what’s trending on Netflix. Jurassic Park, Indian Matchmaking, and Ocean’s Thirteen—the fourth best of the four Ocean’s movies. Apparently everyone has seen everything that’s good. Then she sees the Bible on the shelf. It has been a while since she read the Bible. She picks it up and opens it to the text for Sunday’s worship, Matthew 13. Jesus is at the lake telling stories. He used to preach in the synagogues, but he is not welcome there anymore. A crowd gathers beside the Sea of Galilee. People are lined up on the hillside, row upon row, as far as you can see. No one is distancing. Jesus gets into a boat and pushes away from the shore so he can be heard. He sees a farmer in the distance and says: “Listen up. Pay attention. This is important. Once there was a peculiar farmer who is not careful with his seeds. He throws seeds everywhere. This farmer treats seed like it grows on trees.” Jesus waits for a laugh. “Some seeds land on the path—the hard ground between the fields. The birds come and eat them. Some days we do not hear a thing. We are asleep at the wheel. Other seeds fall on shallow soil, grow quick, and die quicker. We think we are paying attention, but our minds wander off. Some seeds fall in the thorns. We see something that looks interesting until something else takes our attention. A few seeds take root and grow. A good crop is a return of ten to fifteen. These seeds grow in quantities that exist only in farmer’s fantasies— thirty, sixty, one hundred times.” Then she reads a confusing part. When the sermon is over, the disciples pull Jesus aside, and ask, “Why do you do that? Why do you talk in parables? Seed and soil—if you have something to say, why don’t you just say it?” Jesus answers, “The reason I preach in parables is so they will hear me and not understand what I’m talking about.” The woman reads it twice because it’s not the kind of thing she expects Jesus to say. Jesus should say something like: “The reason I preach in parables is to make it interesting. Sermons can be a little dry if they don’t have some stories in them, so I spice it up” or “The reason I preach in parables is to make it clear. I’m talking about the purpose of life and that’s complicated, so I bring it down to the level of farmers, seeds, thorns, birds.” She reads it one more time, “The reason I preach in parables is so they will hear me and not understand.” Then she has a thought. Maybe Jesus is saying that we need to go deeper. The parables are meant to make it hard to understand, because we need to work at it. These stories make us think deeply: “The reason I preach in parables is to push them farther.” Sometimes it is simpler to pretend it is simple. George Buttrick was the pastor of Madison Avenue Presbyterian Church in Manhattan. One week he had been off on a speaking engagement, and on the plane back he had a pad and a pen and was making notes for the next Sunday’s sermon. The man seated next to him was curious: “I don’t want to interrupt, but you’re obviously working hard on something. What is it?” “Oh, I’m a minister. I’m working on Sunday’s sermon.” The man said, “Oh, religion. I steer clear of that. I don’t get caught up in all the ins and outs and complexities of religion. I keep it simple. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. The Golden Rule, that’s my religion.” Buttrick said, “I see, and what do you do?” “I’m an astronomer. I teach at a university.” Buttrick replied, “Oh, astronomy.