Spirit of the Heartland

• cleansing waters of forgiveness
• rich oil of healing
• fine wine of passion and excitement
• pure milk of compassion and kindness
• crusty bread of hopefulness

Isaiah's faith is profound/powerful: "God's word shall not return to God empty, but it shall accomplish that which God intends, and succeed in that for which God sent it." His faith is in a God who makes that happen, who reigns over creation, still creating, to bring about change, in and between people, in and between nations – the God who is persistent enough to change minds, compassionate enough to change hearts.

It is in context of prophets like Isaiah that Jesus speaks to his fellow Jews. He uses rich agrarian imagery that the people of the countryside would understand easily – imagery that you understand, though many of your urban friends do not. He talks about seeds and planting and optimal conditions for growth. Even though seeds are usually so willing to make an effort to grow if the ground is hard, there is no way if the soil is too shallow and the rains are few, they sprout when watered and wither quickly in a dry climate. When crowded out by sturdy weeds, grain has little chance to soak up moisture, little to reach through the shade of other plants for the sun, and they, too, die. It takes good rich soil, sufficient water and sun to grow the grain from which daily bread is made. And the quality of the soil determines the quantity of the yield.

You know that. It's basic farming (and gardening) and even city children here know it by third grade. It's a homely teaching by Jesus – with which his hearers were at home. Many scholars today believe the interpretation did not come from Jesus but from the writer and editors of Matthew's gospel, for Jesus' listeners would have "got it," just as easily as the computer raised children of today get the message of the struggle between good and evil in all the games they play. But for later generations – in the cities of Jerusalem and Alexandria and Athens and Corinth and Rome – they might have been illiterate like those children who do not understand that milk comes from cows, eggs from chickens, meat from animals. So later folks realized the word had to be broken open – made clear, plain, simple, for other people, other generations to understand.

There are at least two ways that this parable can be interpreted truly.

1) Soil as human heart/soul – the Word as God's Spirit planted in each heart -- most sermons on this – a) the hardness of some hearts, so cannot even enter – caught up in the busy comings and goings of the world, unable to take anything in; b) the shallowness of those who live life as if it is merely a picnic or a lark, and have no persistence or durability to hang on to a vision of the holy in rough times or dry times; c) the folk who think rewards of fame and prestige and wealth for intelligence or wit or skills is more important than being whole, being one with God, and d) those who learn to treasure truth, harbor hope, nurture love and let them grow inside to a richness that gives healing and hope to others.

2) Soil as the environs in which the Christ in us lives – each of us as the word, planted in a family and a community - or broader still, the word as each spiritual community, planted in a neighborhood, a city, a town.

We have come together today as a spiritual community of God's word, each planted in our own towns: Sauk Centre, Royalton, Little Falls and Paynesville. How would we describe the environments we are in – hard, shallow, thorny or richly fertile? And how would a visitor or someone who moves in among us describe the soil that we are for the work God has given them and planted among us.

As someone who is relatively an outsider – a part of you as the bishop yet living at a distance from each of your towns, it might be presumptuous of me to pass judgment on you. In Buddhism, when a man is ordained priest, he is given gifts for the journey, one of them a bowl with which to beg for food and also, when empty and clean, to strike as a gong to lead him into silence. Another is a mirror - not for shaving or tweezing eyebrows or admiring his looks, but to look deeply into his own eyes to see who is at home there. I urge you to spend time looking in the mirror together in each community and with the help of the other communities. Are you hard or soft, so hard that no one new can make a place among you, or soft enough that people find a home with you? Are you deep or shallow? Shallow here means that your building or the way things are is more important than mission and ministry. Deep means you are ever-willing to learn more about how God loves you and empowers you. I'll never forget the forty year old woman who said she went back and stayed at one of our churches with predominantly older members, "because the elders are all still growing." What an incredible compliment! And the 93 year old woman who came to me to reaffirm her baptismal vows because she wanted to let God know that she was ready for however God wanted her to serve next. When you see yourselves in the mirror, do you see communities that are free and loving and positive and life-affirming and people-supporting? Or are you all choked up with the thorns of power-plays, control issues, back-biting, pessimism and defeatism, gossip and Minnesota nice? No one wants to be planted in such soil.

Just as the word has to be broken open for us to glimpse its potential and power, so do we need to be broken open to let it in, let it take root in us. I ask you these questions because it is not my place or my role to analyze you and it doesn't really matter what I think. My understanding is that the gospel, the word, is to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable. It is the gospel, the word which does any needed afflicting when we look deeply into the mirror. I have to look into that mirror all the time, sometimes receiving a blessing of peace and sometimes a blessing of confrontation and unsettling. I wish, at times, that I could throw the mirror away, but I know if I did I would die.