Sermon given on June 15, 1997
At St. Alban’s Episcopal Church, Brentwood
By Rev. Valerie Ann Hart
Mark 4:26-34
A handful of wheat, five thousand years old, was found in the tomb of one of the kings of ancient Egypt.Someone planted the grains and, to the amazement of all, the grains came to life.
A parable is like a seed. No matter how long ago the story was told, when planted in the heart, in the mind, in the soul, it can come to life and grow. Each time we remember the story, each time a new event in our lives triggers a remembrance of the parable, there is a new understanding, and the seedling grows. Each time, each retelling, each rereading, each remembering the depth of understanding grows.
Jesus taught in parables, in puzzles, with stories that his hearers would remember, would think about - that would aid and nurture the spiritual growth of the hearer.
There are parables of words, and parables of action.
A sannyasi, an Indian holy man,had reached theoutskirts of a village and settleddown under a tree for the nightwhen a villager came running upto him and said, "The stone! Thestone! Give me the precious stone!"
"What stone?" asked the sannyasi.
"Last night the Lord Shiva appearedto me in a dream," said the villager,"and told me that if I went to theoutskirts of the village at duskI should find a sannyasi whowouldgive me a precious stone that wouldmake me rich forever.”
The sannyasi rummaged in his bag andpulled out a stone. "He probablymeant this one, " he said, as he handedthe stone over to the villager. “I foundit on a forest path some days ago. Youcan certainly have it.”
The man gazed at the stone in wonder.It was a diamond; probably the largest diamond in the whole worldfor it wasas large as a person’s head. He took the diamond and walked away.
Allnight he tossed about in bed,unable to sleep.The next dayat the crack of dawn he woke the sannyasi and said, "Give me the wealth that makes it possible for you to give this diamond away so easily.”
A gift, an act of love, a touch, a statement, the telling of one’s own story can be a seed, planted in the heart, which grows to enlighten the soul. The gift given without expectation, the seed planted without knowing how, or why or if it will grow. The faith of the farmer who keeps scattering seed on the ground even though he doesn’t know why or how. Even though sometimes for days and nights he sees nothing above the ground. The seeds are scattered in faith - faith that somehow they will bear fruit.
The Samaritanwoman put down her water jar and went off to the town. She said to the people, "Come and see the man who has told me everything I ever did. Could this be the Messiah?"
Whata wonderful teacher wasthe Samaritan woman! She gave no answers. She only asked a question.She planted the seed of a question.It must have been tempting togive the answer because she had gotten it directly fromJesus when hesaid, “Iam the Messiah. I who am talking to you." But she was content to scatter the seed of a question and let it grow.
Many more became disciples because of what they heard from his own lips. They said to the woman, "It is no longer because of what you said that we believe, for wehave heard him ourselves, and we know that this is, indeed, the Savior of the world."
We too need to be like the farmer who scatters seeds. We are called to scatter seeds - seeds of our own stories - the parables of our own lives - seeds of faith, seeds of love, seeds of gifts given without expectation. We plant the seeds in those we care for, in those we meet, in our neighbors, our friends, and our children. We tell the stories, we ask the questions, we give the gifts and then we sleep and rise night and day and let the seeds sprout, and grow and rejoice that the smallest of seeds can become the greatest of all shrubs.
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