Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Taproots

(preached Sunday, July 10, 2011)

Psalm 119:105-112

Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23

Grace and Peace to you this morning. Grace and Peace.

The psalm and the Gospel this morning are about living a faith that gives life. Both are concerned with the Word, and what a living relationship with the Word, in its wide and deep sense, would look like.

The whole of Psalm 119 is a love song to the Torah – and it contains eight synonyms for Torah: word, teachings, statutes, law, precepts, decrees, commandments and promises. The portion we read this morning begins:

Thy word is a lamp to my feet
and a light to my path.

The psalmist goes on to say that even though her life is in danger, she will not forget the Torah of God. (We don’t know who wrote this psalm, why not say “she?”) This is not turning to God’s teachings as a last resort, but letting them be a part of her life every day, sun or rain.

The Parable of the Sower is a teaching story for the disciples and for the church. We get both the parable as it is told to the crowd and the description of the allegory as it is told to the disciples. It is a cautionary tale, told to warn the followers of Jesus about what is needed. What are its cautions?

Not understanding the Word, so it cannot take root.

Having no depth, no grounding, so the roots are superficial, and the plant/the Word is uprooted by the least trouble.

Having no interest in the Word, but preferring the cares of the world, so that whatever grows of the Word is choked out by other agendas.

What is needed is good, deep roots, gaining nutrients from the soil so that the Word can thrive.

What are needed are taproots, digging deeply, securing the plant and drawing living water. How do we get such deep roots? How do we cultivate our hearts to better receive this life-giving word?

Last Wednesday in Chapel, we were talking about prayer. It was brought up that for some people, the word “prayer” has the implication of “what we do in church.” What we need, it was suggested, is a wider understanding. One person said that for them, prayer is “an open conversation with God that goes on all day long.” What a beautiful way to understand it.

The analogy was offered that prayer is like eating. I want us to play with this image for a moment:

Prayers in church on Sunday morning: we light the candles, we put fine linens on the table, we wear our finer clothes, and there is a certain formality about the whole event. Sunday morning is the fine dining of prayer.

Prayers in chapel on Wednesday night are closer to a potluck: we wear whatever we had on for work that day, we all bring stuff and open up and share with one another.

But there are so many other kinds of prayer, so many other ways to eat:

Some of our prayers are like that drive-thru burger, said in the car while we are driving from one appointment to another.

Some prayers are that late-night snack, talking with God in the dark while we are awake in the wee hours, unable to go back to sleep.

Some prayers we say in the morning, breaking our fast, welcoming the day either with, “Good morning, God!!” or “Good God….morning….”

Some prayers are little crackers or cookies, something we do little bites of throughout the afternoon to get us through.

Other prayers are donuts, shared together in small groups in the morning over coffee.

If the only prayers we get or say are on Sunday morning, it would be like eating one fancy meal a week, and then nothing else all week. It might be good and filling for a while. But if that is all the nourishment we get, we will starve.

To play a little more with the analogy of faith being a plant, grown from the Word, let us look again at what the purpose of the roots are in this parable. It is not so that we can be pretty flowers, or so that we can be strong for our own sakes. The purpose of deep roots is for the bearing of fruit, letting the Word enter us and letting us blossom with good acts on behalf of our neighbor.

Faith blooms so that the hungry can be fed and the lonely can find community. Faith blooms so that people who know despair can hear a word of hope. Faith blooms so that people who saw themselves as no people can discover that they are God’s people.

But in order to bloom, we need deep roots. In order to keep a hold of God’s love for the poor and the poor in spirit while other agendas talk so loudly, we need deep roots. If we are to step up to the challenge our faith gives to “reach out to our congregants, community and world family,” we need deep roots.

And if we are to have deep roots, we need to till the soil, fill it with nutrients, pull the weeds, and water it often. With our prayers. Daily. An open conversation with God, all day long.

Thanks be to God.

Amen.

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