Sunday 16 July 2017

Fifth Sunday after Trinity 2017


On Monday night, I took my boys to the cinema to see Spider-Man: Homecoming. We had a good time. Spider-Man is an interesting character, because he is the secret identity of a fifteen-year-old high school student. And while most fifteen-year-olds haven’t been given superhuman strength and agility, Peter Parker’s story allows us to recognise and explore so much that is going on at that age. Here is a teenager, desperate to be part of something bigger, to be included with the grown-ups, to be mentored by someone he looks up to; while at the same time needing and guarding privacy to grow into his identity without everyone looking on; navigating friendship and a growing, vulnerable awareness of romantic attraction to girls—alongside a boyish unawareness of girls liking him. He swings between over-confidence and lack of self-belief, soaring high and crashing low. He makes poor decisions, with damaging consequences. And around him, his mentor Iron Man, his aunt May, his best friend Ned, and a host of other characters, consciously and unconsciously help shape his world and his finding his place within it.

It is likely that several of ‘the Twelve’—the symbolic group at the core of Jesus’ disciples—were teenagers. Though not superheroes, Peter Parker’s story resonates with theirs—and with ours as those who are trying to figure-out and grow-into our identity as followers of Jesus.

In our Gospel reading today we heard the parable of the sower. It will help to know something of the context. The lake, around which so many of the stories of Jesus are centred, is surrounded by hills. The population lived in small towns and villages, in an agricultural peasant economy. On the edge of a settlement would be a large field subdivided into strips belonging to each family, not dissimilar to allotments. Each family lived on what they grew, to eat or to trade, but would harvest communally. The fields had several common features the crowd listening to Jesus would be familiar with:

Firstly, there were paths between the plots, so that you could access your strip without walking over your neighbours’. Good paths make for good neighbours.

Secondly, because the land was not flat, it had to be terraced, in steps up the hillside. The best places to build a retaining wall were where there was bedrock close to the surface, providing a foundation.

Thirdly, the edges of the fields were planted with thorns, to prevent animals from getting in and eating the crop intended for humans.

If you were fortunate, you had a plot that was not so constrained by path or rock or thorns, maximising your good soil; but everybody had a shared investment in these things.

But what has any of this got to do with Spider-Man? And, more to the point, what has it to do with us? I want to suggest that the different areas of the field speak to us of different aspects of our lives, that shape our identity for good or ill.

First, the path. The path speaks to us of family, of connectedness within community. Peter Parker can’t talk to aunt May about his new identity, and for many of us it is hard to speak of Jesus or to follow Jesus when we are with those who know us best or longest. There are times when we let opportunities pass us by, because it is too hard. On the one hand, I think we need to acknowledge that; and on the other hand, I don’t think we need to beat ourselves up about it. Even if seeds don’t take root along the path, they do take root alongside the path. Eventually, aunt May will have to get her head around who her nephew is, and is involved with. Often with family members it is wise to let them ask their own questions in their own time.

The other thing to note about family and growing into our identity is the way in which Peter Parker looks to Tony Stark—Iron Man—as a mentor. If we want to grow into our new identity in Christ, we need mentors too. Who are you learning from? Who is mentoring you? Or, who are you mentoring? (Is that the heart of being a godparent?) A word of caution: if you are listening to too many mentors, or involved in too many communities—if you are over-involved relationally—you might multiply path upon path at the expense of good soil for growing.

Second, the rocky ground. The rocky ground speaks to us of foundations. Like family, the foundational things of our lives—where we grew up, our education, our experience of gender, to list a few examples—set parameters around our ability to receive the word God sows in our hearts. Foundational things are not determinative, but they are significant. They tend to be built slowly, and they tend to be moved slowly—though this is not always the case. I think of our Iranian brothers and sisters who knew that, in the long term, it would be very difficult for their faith in Jesus to flourish where they were, and who therefore took the costly decision to relocate their lives.

The other thing to note about foundations is their usefulness. Peter Parker wants to quit high school and go off saving the world. His mentor wants him to engage with his studies, and learn his trade: to be a friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man. Working on the basic disciplines is indirect effort, enabling something else. As those whose identity is in Christ, we cannot make ourselves fruitful: but we can attend to the foundational things such as reading and meditating on the Bible; and the daily conversation with God we call prayer; and seeking to put love and forgiveness into practice.

Third, the thorns. The thorns speak to us of fears, the things we try to protect ourselves from, the defensive stance. Everyone fears something. Peter Parker suffers from FOMO—Fear of Missing Out. It is one of the defining fears of our age (ironically, the others are fear of suffering and of dying, which we try hard to miss out on). The tragic irony is that our defences so often end up imprisoning us. Fear is natural: but God’s perfect love drives out fear—and does so in a way that expands our experience of life, rather than reducing it.

Fear is never productive. Sometimes Fear of Missing Out drives us to so much activity for God, or for the church, or for the community, that we burn out. I’ve seen that happen many times. For others, fear of change—fear of the unknown—causes us to hold on to the familiar long after it has served its good purpose. Sometimes we need to face our fears directly, and act in faith—whether that means taking a step forward, or taking a step back. And we won’t always get it right: but the same love that drives out fear also covers a multitude of sins, catches us when we fall short.

Fourth, and finally, the good soil. The good soil speaks to us of fruitfulness. The first thing to note in this parable, or story that reveals truth, is that we are the field, not the seed or the sower. We cannot make our lives fruitful; but our lives are designed by God to be fruitful, to be the context in which God’s good intention for the world is expressed. This is true of every human life. The second thing to note is that the seeds sown produce a harvest in varying amounts. Fruitful life is a gift, given to all, not a competition. Peter Parker is dealt a hand that enables him to be a superhero, to achieve great things; but his geeky overweight friend Ned and his slightly stressed-out aunt May and the owner of the corner bodega all have something unique and valuable to share with the world too.

You might be a hundred-fold person, or a sixty-fold person, or a thirty-fold person. You might offer the world back a hundred-fold return on a small area of good soil, or a sixty-fold return on a large field. The point is not a comparison game. The point is that you are, inevitably, a person of fruitfulness—and of paths and stones and thorny weeds.

Noting all of this as true, what is the word that Jesus has sown in you today? Perhaps it is a word that will set you in a new family, God’s family? Or a word that says, God is the rock on which you can stand, when everything else seems so uncertain? Perhaps it is a whispered word of love, so amazing that it overwhelms your fear? Or a word of fruitful purpose that makes your life a gift to others?

This is what the Lord says: ‘For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and do not return there until they have watered the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, and succeed in the thing for which I sent it.’

Amen.


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