“And he told them many things in parables, saying: ‘Listen! A sower went out to sow.’”

— Matthew 13:3

Let’s talk about the extravagantly wasteful sower who just throws seed everywhere, willy nilly. Who does that?

Let’s talk about the soil. As I’ve heard this parable throughout my life, I’ve often taken the message to be that I need to become better soil. I need to remove my own rocks and thorns. I want to be fruitful.

I think I’ve mentioned before that I’m not much of a gardener. I have committed herbicide so many times that some might call me an herbicidal maniac. I am, at best, a hospice chaplain for plants. But I keep trying.

I’ve been thinking about rocky soil. Did any of you ever have to move rocks as a child? Maybe as punishment, or to prepare the ground for something? Sometimes, just to keep me occupied after I complained about boredom, my dad would tell me to move all the rocks from one part of the yard to another. It worked. I stopped complaining about being bored because moving rocks is hard, tedious work.

And it got me wondering: if I’m supposed to be the soil in this parable, who moves the rocks? The soil can’t. The best it can do is hold on to them. Someone has to come and loosen the rocks, wiggle them free, and carry them away. Someone has to water the ground so the soil can finally let go. Someone has to tend it with patience and care.

And that someone has a difficult job. A tedious job. A repetitive job. Because if I’m honest, I cling to my rocks. I hold on to them because, even when I know I don’t need them, even when I know they’re not good for me, even when I know they’re keeping me from growing, they are familiar. Sometimes familiar feels safer than free.

Beloved, who has been tending the soil of your life? And just as importantly, whose soil are you tending?