Am I the Rocky Soil?

The Seventh Sunday after Pentecost 2026 

By Reverend Marjorie Bevans

Texts: Isaiah 55:10-13; Romans 8:1-11; Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23 

The parable of the Sower reminds me of the summer of 1975.  My family decided to plan 60 acres of 
Silver Queen corn.  We had a contract to sell it to the local IGA’s.  So, my brother Tommy and I stayed home 
from school to plow.  It took about a week because we only had a 1948 Ford 8N tractor. Then on the weekend 
my stepfather used a corn hopper to plant the seed.  Weeks later the corn was up and growing well.  Then after 90 days it was ready to be picked.  But when we went out to pick it, we discovered that in many places thistle had taken over.  The thistle didn’t choke out the corn because the thistle grew later, but it made picking the corn just miserable.  It was hard to walk through. Every morning, while the dew was still heavy, we went out to pick corn, get soaking wet and all scratched up by the thistle. But the corn was delicious and we ate plenty of it that summer. 

The lesson?  Even with a lot of effort, good things are still sometimes difficult to obtain—or use herbicide.  

Jesus spoke to the people using parables because a good parable is understandable by most people no 
matter what their level of education or insight. For example, if I talked to you about taking care of your yard, 
many if not all would understand the importance of cutting the grass regularly, pulling weeds out of beds, and raking leaves in the fall. 

Jesus uses a common experience to attract the hearer.  He then invites them to the understanding of a 
deeper truth, one that many people would not hear if it were put to them in abstract terms only. 
Life is not abstract, so perhaps the truth of God should not be either.  With Jesus every earthly story has a heavenly meaning. 

Whether or not you are a gardener, many of us would understand the frustration of sowing seed where it 
did not take root, grow, and mature.  And most of us would understand the frustration of what we did not plant taking root and taking over.  The goal we have in mind is a beautiful ripe tomato or a sweet ear of corn. 
Tending a garden is a bit like tending our relationship with God. It takes consistent, sometimes hard, work—a little each day no matter how hot it is, but the results are worth it. 

 So let us consider the interpretation of the parable of the Sower.  Why did Jesus tell it and what does he want us to know? 

But first, most preachers probably hear this lesson differently than the congregation.  This is because we are called to be Sowers of the Word of God.  The congregation is the soil. 

We preach the Word of God to a congregation of people with different personalities, experiences, and perspectives.  And the people in the congregation are usually in different places with what they most need to hear from God on a given day.  What may be a good sermon for one, is totally useless for another, depending on what kind of day each person might be having.  So, what I would most like us to consider this morning is 
“What kind of soil am I for the Word of God?” 

Am I the path? A hard place to sow the Word of God? Am I a person so beaten down that there is no place to even take in the Word of God? Am I impervious to it?  Do I not want to listen to it?

Consider whether you thoughtfully heard the lessons from Isaiah and Romans this morning. Do you remember what they were?  Did those words just bounce off you? How many times have you heard a particular lesson read in church over the years and still it seems strange? 

Am I the rocky soil? Soil superficial in nature, hearing only what will make me feel good now? Do I only hear what I want to hear? 

For example, if you listened to Paul’s Letter to the Romans, was there something in it you wanted to reject? The parable from Matthew ‘easy listening’ compared to that. 

It is tempting to get into the pattern of rejecting that which personally challenges us the most, the one 
thing we most need to hear from God to make us more Christ-like. Sometimes we even use the tool of ‘biblical criticism’ to avoid the truth that we do not want to hear.  We reason it away or put limits on it. For example, thinking I get to determine the weight of the cross I am willing to bear to follow Jesus. I don’t think that was what Jesus meant.  

If we do not let God’s Word take deep root in us, when our faith is challenged it cannot sustain us in love and hope. Faith withers away. 

Am I the soil choked by thorns? Letting my earthly concerns overtake my heavenly calling?  Do I 
allow pressing needs and interests—work, security, friends, even family—to choke out my need for God?  Am I so divided in my attention that I allow the weeds to choke out even my desire to worship, to hear from God, to pray and give thanks to God for his graciousness to me? 

Am I the good soil? Hungry to hear the Word of God, to have it sown in my heart to strengthen my  faith, to give me wisdom and understanding, to help me love unconditionally, to bring me into the presence of God and Christ my Savior? 

If we could choose how to always hear, perhaps this would be it.  And maybe sometimes, we truly are the good soil—hard ground broken open by our deep need for God.  Confused and disoriented, helplessly empty, sometimes there awakens in us spontaneously the need to know and experience Divine love, to be forgiven our sin and our neglect of God. 

Life’s circumstances can make us good or bad soil, but being made in the image of God, gifted with reason and free will, we do have a choice how to be, how to prepare ourselves. 

Will we allow ourselves to be broken open and cultivated, ready to receive the Word, then to be nourished and watered by the Holy Spirit?  This can be life changing. 

There have been times in the past when the people of God actually lost the Word of God.  Yes, they lost the Bible, the Old Testament particularly, several times, when Israel was defeated, the temple and Jerusalem destroyed and the people taken into exile or enslaved. 

There is the story of the rediscovery of the Law of Moses in the Temple when Josiah was king.  He had never heard of the Law of Moses before, and when he heard it read for the first time, he was incredibly moved by it.  He called all the people to come and hear it, and they were hungry to hear it.  It led to a spiritual awakening and renewal, and a reformation of the people who had been corrupt. 

At another time the law was rediscovered and read to the people by the priest Ezra.  It had been generations since the people had heard the Law.  So, they were hungry to receive it, and when it was read to them the people wept and they repented of their sins. 

When have you ever been so hungry for the Word of God that you wept when you heard it?

For now, the Sower must sow, even if some seed falls on stone or in thorns.  We leave the issue in God’s 
hands, and still labor, for his seed is the very bread of the soul.  And we are forever challenged to make  ourselves a fit dwelling place for the Lord.  

Amen. 

Why Do So Many Non-Christians Perceive Christians to Be Such Hypocrites?

Reverend Marjorie Bevans

The Second Sunday after Pentecost 2026

Texts: Hosea 5:15-6:6, Matthew 9:9-13

In the Gospel lesson today, the Pharisees took the position that anyone who ate with tax collectors and sinners must be or would become a sinner themselves. Jesus who was living under the Law of Moses was openly violating it. The Pharisees seem to assume that they are not sinners, because at least they are not eating with tax collectors and sinners.

So, who were these Pharisees who so often clashed with Jesus? They were educated in the Law of Moses (like lawyers) and considered to be protectors of the Law (like judges). They taught the people (like teachers) and sometimes were consulted when people had disagreements (like counselors). It is believed that the word ‘Pharisee’ is derived from an ancient Hebrew word meaning ‘set apart’, which is similar to the meaning of ‘holy’, to be set apart for God. They were supposed to be holy men.

A few years ago I read the results of a longitudinal survey of non-Christians. 128,000 people were asked what kept them from seriously considering Christianity. The answer was ‘Christians’. The number one reason by far, receiving 47% compared to the next highest reason with 23%, was the perceived hypocrisy of Christians. Ouch. People who are perceived to be telling other people how to live without living up to those same standards appear to be hypocrites. ‘Rules for thee, but not for me’—an old aphorism my mom used to say. Jesus often confronted this in his conversations with the Pharisees. Our words don’t mean anything to someone else if they are not consistent with our behavior. We Christians must always strive to be people of integrity. Otherwise, the Lord we proclaim to love and follow will not be taken seriously.

Why do so many non-Christians perceive Christians to be such hypocrites?

When I was a young adult, I would have responded “Because Christians are at least trying to live by a higher standard, even if they sometimes stumble.” But I’m not so sure a lack of Christ-like perfection is what non-Christians are seeing. I wish the survey had a follow-up question or two about what makes so many non-Christians think Christians are such hypocrites. A large part of it might be that non-Christians don’t understand Christianity at all. Fewer and fewer people in each generation have any real exposure to it. People may believe it’s more like a philosophy than a relationship with the living God.

What can we do? If a Christian occasionally stumbles while trying to follow Christ, it must be accompanied with a sense of guilt or contrition, repentance, confession, and improvement. What if we were known by someone to be a Christian, but we never seem to admit we are sometimes wrong and we should apologize? In psychology we would say such a person is not very self-aware. In spiritual terms we would say such a person is being impenitent, but to a person who is not a practicing Christian, it looks like hypocrisy. For our Christian witness to have integrity, we don’t need to be perfect. We need to be honest and humble. We don’t want to be Pharisees, pointing out the splinter in someone’s eye, while ignoring the log in our own. In addition to being honest and humble, we need to better understand what God is asking from us. The prophet Hosea tells us that the Lord desires true communion, not superficial sacrifice. “I desire steadfast love and not sacrifice, the knowledge of God rather than burnt offerings.” The Pharisees were good at keeping the Letter of the Law, but they did not understand the Spirit of the Law—why God gave it. They gave God burnt offerings rather than their hearts.

How do we better understand what God is asking from us? We must be engaged in the study of Scripture. We learn there why God created us, how he loves us, and the purpose for our lives. We also study particularly the New Testament, the teaching of Jesus and the Letters of Paul. And when we pray, we come into the presence of God so we can be changed by it, to be made more Christ-like. Many of us regularly practice certain types of prayers—intercession for others, petition for ourselves, but the kind of prayer that forms us is simply listening to God. God speaks to our hearts and minds when we stop talking and just put ourselves in his presence. It is also in these times that God corrects us, and we can acknowledge to him our shortcomings. Prayers of adoration, oblation—offering our whole selves to God, and contemplation are most helpful. If we engage in this simple discipline of study and prayer, we might be better prepared to respond to the challenges of the world—to evil, suffering, and confusion. We might be better witnesses for Christ.

The Pharisees may have had confidence in their knowledge of the Law, but because they did understand why the Law was given—to show us how to love God and love others, too often their confidence became arrogance. There is a difference between the two. Arrogance comes from trusting in oneself. Yet, we can be confident in God while being humble, because trusting God causes us to be humble. We come to realize that God is God, and we are not. We accept our proper relationship with God. We are less likely to be arrogant, more likely to be humble.

So, I believe the best way to avoid being seen as a hypocrite and a better witness for Christ, is not to be a more perfect Christian—although that wouldn’t hurt, but rather, to be a more humble Christian. Then, as Peter writes in his First Letter, ‘In your hearts sanctify Christ as Lord. Always be ready to make your defense to anyone who demands from you an accounting for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and reverence.” We must be able to explain what we believe in our hearts, out of genuine affection for the other person.

Amen.

The Presentation 2025

The Presentation 2025

Texts: Malachi 3:1-4; Hebrews 2:14-18; Luke 2:22-40

Watch and listen HERE

Everyone who went to the Temple that day was in the process of being obedient to God—like you are today here obeying the 4th commandment to remember the sabbath day and keep it holy. All of the people at the Temple probably brought different burdens and probably had different expectations.

Old Simeon was righteous and devout and the Holy Spirit was with him. It guided him to the temple that day.

Anna was 84 and had lived most of her life as widow. She worshiped God in the temple night and day. I have met such widows in the church. They seem to be constantly on their knees in prayer.

Mary and Joseph were there following the law of Moses. 7 days after birth of the first born male child, the parents and the child were to go to the temple to redeem the child and purify the mother. The baby boy was offered to God as holy and then taken home in exchange for an offering of turtledoves or pigeons. This doesn’t say much about the value for first born males.

Because all of these people were faithfully being obedient to God something special happened for them all.

Simeon saw the Messiah and could be at peace in his desire for the consolation of Israel.

Mary and Joseph had their son blessed by an old holy man, and they were amazed at what he told them about their son.

Anna too, recognized who this baby truly was and what it meant for the Jewish people.

Simeon had a message just for Mary. “This child is destined for the falling and rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed—and a sword will pierce you own soul too.” Though the child would save his people and be a light even to the Gentiles, something tragic would happen to him. We all now know what that would be, but could you imagine what this meant for Mary as she raised her first born son?

Every Sunday we come here to worship God, being faithfully obedient like Simeon, Anna, and Mary and Joseph. We give thanks for many blessings we have received—family, friends, decent health, satisfying work, food, shelter, safety, and peace. We also come bearing our own burdens—fear, worry, anxiety, or confusion…We hope and pray that God will bless us. We share our burdens in prayer and receive God’s mercy and grace in Holy Communion. Perhaps we too hear the message from God, just what we most need to hear—in the lessons, or the words of the liturgy, or the hymns, or the sermon. This is a ritual that has been repeated throughout the history of the people of God, millions of times. It is always better to be together to worship God than not. The Holy Spirit comes when two or three are gathered together.

Like Mary and Joseph, and Simeon and Anna, we too have experienced special blessings by coming together on Sunday mornings—the baptisms of baby Christians, the joy of a child serving as an usher, the affection shared among old friends, lovingly preparing the altar to receive the Body and Blood of Christ, the contributions of all our parishioners to the praise of God, each in our own way. It truly is a scene not unlike the one in the Temple that day. We have righteous and devout parishioners, elderly widows, and younger people on the fringe. A healthy family needs them all. Who are you? And what is your role among the people recognizing the Messiah, Jesus the Savior of all that we know, and touch, and love? How does meeting him and knowing him change you?

In the Letter to the Hebrews the unknown author addresses the fuller reality of what the Messiah coming into the world would mean for the world. It would not be all love and peace, because earth is still the place where the devil wants to rule people. The author of the letter has a different way of looking at the people of Israel. He wrote, “For it is clear that he did not come to help angels, but the descendants of Abraham.” We are all the spiritual descendants of Abraham. There are among the people of God those whose hearts are being torn by fear, anger, distrust, and even hatred. Jesus came to redeem sinners, people like us.

A long time ago I read a very old book written by St. Athanasius, one of the Church Fathers. It is entitled “On the Incarnation of the Word”. If you like to read old books, I highly recommend it. Athanasius wrestled with why God would become a human in order to save us. I remember one concise phrase that helps me understand why God did this. “He could not redeem what he did not know.” “To know” in the ancient world was to have a relationship with something. This is a much more intimate thing than just knowing about something. Elsewhere, Athanasius writes that God commingled with man.

Perhaps Athanasius took his understanding in part from this verse in Hebrews, “Because he himself was tested by what he suffered, he is able to help those who are being tested.” In some way all of us here are being tested by the world, and in particular, by the devil. The devil wants us to be afraid, to distrust, to be anxious, to be angry, and to hate. But Christ’s presence with us is so strong that we are able to eventually, with much prayer and counsel, let those things go, to loosen their hold on our hearts and minds. Though the challenges we face may be physical, or social, or emotional, this is at the depth of our being a spiritual struggle.

The prophet Malachi described this process differently. He wrote that the Lord would suddenly come into his temple and he would bring a fire that would refine the people like gold and silver. This is the work of the Holy Spirit, and all of us here are being refined by it. Malachi said this refining would continue until the people presented offerings to the Lord in righteousness. We know the refining fire of the Holy Spirit to be the process of Sanctification, and it continues all our lives. Simeon and Anna undoubtedly had been through a lot in their lives, and they trusted God, and they had been faithful and obedient to his commandments. The results of their process of sanctification were righteousness, devotion, insight, and wisdom.

We might pray that we too would develop righteousness, increased devotion, insight, and wisdom as we are being tested. We remember that we are not alone—if we know Christ in a way he wishes us to know him—intimately. He has gone on before us in this testing. He knows who he is redeeming, whether or not we are even aware of it.

This is a good place to be, to receive God’s love as cracked vessels. My prayer for all of us, those present and those not present, is that through the work of the Holy Spirit we might become more steady in our devotion to God and be purified in our hearts and minds to worship him more fully. Amen.

June 23, 2024 Fifth Sunday after Pentecost

5th Sunday after Pentecost 2024

Text: Mark 4:35-41

Did you ever have the experience as a young child of being so sleepy, so tired that you were falling asleep before you could get to bed? I vaguely remember when I was probably about 5 or 6 I was so tired to go up to bed on my own. I remember my dad picking me up and putting me over his shoulder. He carefully took me upstairs to my bedroom and gently rolled me off his shoulder onto my bed, and he tucked me in. That feeling of being carried by someone who loves you has never left me. I felt so safe in my dad’s arms.

We took a Holy Hike yesterday, and one of the children needed to be carried by her dad. I walked behind them and watched as she fell asleep over his shoulder as we walked along. It reminded me of that feeling of safety I had felt.

Perhaps Jesus felt the same way in the boat. He was in the stern asleep on a cushion while a storm tossed the boat. His Father was watching over him. Jesus knew he was safe in God’s hands.

The disciples were afraid so they woke him up, and he stilled the sea. “Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?”

People who have done tremendously brave things—like rescuing injured soldiers in the midst of a battle, or swimming into rough water to rescue someone who is drowning, or running into a burning house, are not people who lack fear. They have courage. Their courage overcomes their fear. Their concern, their love for another person drives them to do what others consider heroic.

In Jesus’ prayer to the Father in the Garden of Gethsemane, the night before his crucifixion, we could see he had real fear about what was to happen to him. “My Father if it is possible, let this cup pass me by. Yet not my will but yours.” He was so afraid he was sweating blood. Jesus’ love for the disciples and all human beings whose souls would be lost without his sacrifice overcame his fear. He entrusted his life into the hands of his Father. He would pass through his crucifixion to the place of eternal safety.

So, what does Jesus mean when he seems to be saying ‘faith’ replaces ‘fear’? Fear is a powerful human emotion. We have a strong desire to be in a place of safety. It’s natural, we want to live, we afraid to suffer. It’s primal. So how can faith in God overcome such a strong instinct to survive within us, that was put into us by God in the first place?

When we come to know and trust God as our eternal Father, when we are grateful for everything he has given us—life, family, everything we need to live—we develop a sense of how much he loves us. We can actually begin to feel that he is protecting and carrying us. Just as it seems natural for us to love our own Fathers it becomes natural for us to love God the Father. He is the ideal of all fathers. In loving God, we want to please him, to seek his will for us, to be faithful.

That’s what I thought I was doing when I found myself all alone on an airstrip in the Arctic winter. My friends and family probably thought I had lost my mind. After the pilot of the plane helped me unload all my stuff, we both looked over to the village, which was about a mile away. He said, “I don’t think anyone’s coming to get you.” Communication in the Arctic back then was often unreliable. Maybe they really didn’t know I was coming that day. I remember thinking, “I know God wants be to be here, maybe it’s to get to this point to freeze.” Then the pilot said, “Do you want to put your stuff back in the plane?” I said no. So the pilot took off and circled around the village a couple of times to get someone’s attention. Harriet Tukrook, who was driving the truck for the polar bear watch, saw me with all my stuff at the airstrip, and she came out. I may have lost my mind, but I thought I was being faithful to God. He protected me in my foolishness.

As we walk this life trusting in God there will be times when it is scary to do the right thing, the good thing, to speak the truth in love, to value the life of a stranger so much that we are surprised to find within us the courage to save them, or to travel to a dangerous place to tell others about the love of God. We are all bundles of mixed motives, and discerning the will of God for us is sometimes difficult. That’s what Jesus was expressing in his prayer in Gethsemane. Mere human beings often get it wrong, and we revert to the survival instinct, to be selfish sometimes. It is trust in God, faith, that helps us break out of the place of fear to do the thing God needs us to do in the moment.

Trusting God the Father can be like having your own father carrying you on his shoulder to a place of safety. This is how I believe ‘faith’ can overcome ‘fear.’ This deep sense of being in the hands of God gives us courage to seek his will, to love him in return for all the many, many blessings we have enjoyed. In this broken world, we are all God’s children, and like a natural father, he has hopes and dreams for us. So, let us together seek his will for us, individually and as a parish. Amen.