A word from the Rector
There’s that clip on the internet of the woman in Bristol who is told there is going to be another election, and she says, “What? Another one!” I’m starting to feel that way about heat waves. They’ve been happening so frequently, even the church buildings aren’t safe havens any more, they’re like night storage heaters just soaking up the heat. If only there were a way of storing it for winter!
This week, our New Testament and Gospel readings turn on a similar question: how do we respond to what we’re given? Paul tells the Romans it’s the Spirit living in us that brings life, not our own striving. Jesus makes much the same point with a picture: the parable of the sower. The seed that lands on the path is quickly eaten by the birds. The seed that lands on rocky ground springs up fast, but the roots are shallow. The seed among the weeds is choked before it can grow. But the seed that lands on good soil grows and multiplies. How we respond to the good news we’re given says something about what kind of soil we are. Are we good soil, where the seed can take root and grow? Or are we rocky ground, where the roots never go deep? It’s a question worth asking of oneself from time to time.
In recent years, the church nationally has understandably paid more attention to numbers: attendance, growth, all the things a good management approach would ask us to track. There’s a place for that. But faith itself doesn’t really work in columns and totals. We go about our day, every day, sowing seeds in the people we meet and the family and friends we spend time with. We may never see that seed germinate, but if the soil is good, it will. It’s like planting a tree from seed, if anyone’s ever tried. It’s genuinely difficult to get an acorn or a horse chestnut to germinate, but when it does, it’s one of the most rewarding things to see. Most of our trees at the edge of fields, at least, are self-seeded and need no help from us. Like those trees, faith often takes a long time to germinate.
It’s worth remembering those who sowed the seeds of faith in us in the first place. Was it Mum or Dad? Granny or Grandpa? An aunt or a sister? An uncle or brother? I’m sure when they did that, they never thought they’d see that seed grow into a lively faith. When I look back at my own faith journey, I know the seeds were planted by my mother and grandmother, my teenage resistance to letting them grow was challenged by a “born-again” school friend, and then when those seeds finally grew, they were watered by faithful, mature Christians in the church I returned to faith in. My grandmother and mother probably never thought I’d become a priest and dedicate my life to following Jesus, but here we are.
When we share our faith, we are sowing seeds. We never know what ground we are sowing into, but if we don’t sow seeds at all, nothing will grow. At least if we try, something might happen.