Good Soil: Becoming a People Who Can Receive the Word (Good Soil: Becoming a People Who Can Receive the Word) (July 12, 2026)

Good Soil: Becoming a People Who Can Receive the Word
Part One of “God’s People in God’s Field”
Isaiah 55:10–13; Matthew 13:1–9, 18–23
Date: July 12, 2026
Location: Eden United Church of Christ, Chicago

Good morning.

Thank you, Pastor Jacki, for inviting me to share the reflection today. It is my honor.

Also, the greetings from the National Moderator of the Pacific Islander and Asian American Ministries of UCC, moderator Eppie Encabo. Thank you for your prayers and supports that the Convocation in Irvine, CA went well and Eden's presence is recognized. And, the moderator also wants to visit Chicago in person soon!

Today we begin a two-part sermon series called “God’s People in God’s Field.” This Sunday, we listen to Jesus’ parable of the sower. Next Sunday, we will listen to Jesus’ parable of the wheat and the weeds. Together, these two Sundays invite us to wonder what it means to be God’s people—not only as individuals, but as a congregation, as neighbors in Jefferson Park, as Christians in Chicago, and as people of faith in a complicated and anxious time.

I want to begin with one of my own experiences of sowing seeds—or maybe more precisely, my experience of sowing seeds and fighting against squirrels with Irish Spring soap.

I am one of the gardening enthusiasts among us. I love being invited to tour friends’ gardens and backyards, to see the care they have put into them: newly planted trees, creative designs, and beautiful ways of working with the land they have.

Our place does not have a garden or backyard that I can transform into a secret garden of my own. But whenever I get the chance, I do try—very hard—to leave some kind of imprint.

One time, when I stayed in a dorm on campus, I noticed that the lawn was not very well kept. Around the same time, a friend gave me an envelope of sunflower seeds and a small bag of tulip bulbs. With permission, I started my little project of transformation in late winter and early spring.

I pulled weeds, loosened the soil, and found all kinds of things on the ground: stones, pieces of concrete and brick, coins, and other objects that were hard to identify, or inappropriate to be mentioned here. I began to understand why the property manager had left it as a jungle-style lawn.

Then I sowed the sunflower seeds into the soft, moist soil and watered them. I hoped the seeds would sprout after I danced around the lawn like the two sisters in a Japanese animated movie, My Neighbor Totoro, where the seeds become tall trees overnight.

But that same afternoon, I noticed a suspicious scene: sparrows and squirrels were busily picking up the seeds from the soil. It was too late to call for help.

With that failure still deep in my heart, I planted the tulip bulbs. Thanks to the wonderful knowledge database called Google, I also placed pieces of Irish Spring soap near the bulbs to prevent squirrel misconduct. I was told that squirrels do not like minty smells.

But when I was carrying my groceries back to the dorm, I saw one unnamed Dr. Squirrel digging up the bulbs and putting the treasure into their mouth. The squirrel even gave me a look when I approached, as if to say, “What’s up, doc?” like Bugs Bunny.

Well, I guess we both got our groceries that night.

I share this story because whenever I hear Jesus’ parable of the sower, I remember that sowing is hopeful work, but it is also humble work. You prepare the soil, scatter the seed, water the ground, and hope for life. But then birds, squirrels, sun, rocks, thorns, weather, and the mysteries of creation all enter the story. Sowing reminds us that we participate in life, but we do not control it.

Jesus begins the parable with a simple sentence: “A sower went out to sow.” A sower goes out with seed, with possibility, and with trust that life can grow. The story begins with generosity. It begins with the promise that God is still planting life in the world.

A seed is small, fragile, and easy to overlook, yet hidden within it is a future. Food, beauty, shade, fruit, and life may all begin in something small enough to fit in the palm of a hand.

Isaiah gives us a similar image. God says that just as rain and snow come down from heaven and water the earth, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall God’s word be. God’s word will not return empty, but will accomplish what God intends.

Isaiah speaks to people who have known exile, loss, uncertainty, and longing. Into their weariness, Isaiah points to creation itself: rain still waters the earth, seeds still grow, and God’s promise is still working beneath the surface. Even when the people cannot yet see restoration, God is preparing life.

Then Jesus tells a story about seed. Some falls on the path, where birds eat it. Some falls on rocky ground, where it grows quickly but cannot develop deep roots. Some falls among thorns, where it is choked. Some falls on good soil, where it bears fruit beyond expectation.

When we hear this parable, we often focus on the soil, and that makes sense. Jesus explains the different soils as different ways the word of God is received. But this morning, I want us to notice that the story has three dimensions: the sower, the seed, and the soil.

For those who follow Jesus, these roles can overlap. Sometimes we are the soil, receiving the word of God. Sometimes we are the seed, small and vulnerable, scattered by God into places we may not have chosen. Sometimes we are the sower, participating in Christ’s work by scattering love, mercy, justice, welcome, and hope.

This parable is not only about farming. It is about formation. It asks what kind of people we are becoming, what kind of church we are becoming, and what kind of seeds we are sowing into the world.

All four soils can live inside one person, one congregation, and one community. There are places in us packed down by disappointment, fear, habit, or pain. There are places in us that receive the word with joy but still need deeper roots. There are places in us where worries, anxieties, possessions, reputation, and the cares of life grow too close to the seed. And by God’s grace, there are also places in us that are open, humble, honest, and ready to receive the word and bear fruit.

So the question today is full of grace: What kind of soil is God helping us become? Where is God softening us, deepening us, clearing space in us, and already growing fruit among us?

This matters especially for a congregation, because a congregation has soil. A congregation has memory, habits, stories, gifts, wounds, hopes, fears, and things it is learning to release. Eden has soil too. There is a history of prayer here, music, service, care for one another, and people who have kept showing up season after season, all kind of communal events. We have younger generations stepping forward to serve in worship, and just yesterday we gathered to celebrate another wedding. These are signs that God continues to bring new life among us. There are seeds planted here years ago that are still bearing fruit.

There are also places where God is still tending the ground. That is true for every church, every Christian community, and every human heart.

Like the soil in Jesus' parable, each of us—and Eden as a congregation—has been shaped over time by the many layers of our history: our personal experiences, our social location, race and ethnicity, migration, neighborhood change, and the complicated story of American Christianity. As we recognize the soil that has formed us, Jesus invites us to receive God's word with tenderness, humility, and courage. This is an invitation to receive grace deeply enough that grace can keep changing us. God’s Spirit is still tending the soil of this congregation, nourishing what is faithful, healing what has been wounded, opening us toward our neighbors, and growing in us a wider and more generous love.

This kind of formation is needed in our time. Many people are anxious about belonging. People are asking, “Who are we?” “Where is home?” “Whose voices matter?” “What kind of community are we becoming?” These are personal questions, but they are also civic and national questions. They are questions about the soil of our common life.

Around the Fourth of July, a reflection from the national UCC setting asked what the Fourth of July means for Christians, especially as the United States approaches the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence under current context. It suggested that Christians can give thanks for liberty and also repent of the ways liberty has been denied to others. It reminded us that our citizenship is in heaven, and that no earthly nation is the Kingdom of God.[1]

I find that deeply helpful because it gives us a way to love our country truthfully: to give thanks for what is good, to grieve what is broken, to repent where harm has been done, to work for the common good, to love without worshiping, to criticize without abandoning, and to hope without pretending.

At the same time, the soil of our national life feels troubled. A recent report in The Guardian pointed out that a European survey showing that trust in the United States has declined sharply. Many still see the United States as necessary, but less trustworthy. Only about one in ten Europeans now see the U.S. as an ally that shares their interests and values. That is painful to hear, but perhaps it is also a moment of listening.[2]

Sometimes a nation tells a story about itself: that it is generous, brave, chosen, and always a force for good. But neighbors may experience that nation differently. Allies may feel anxiety. Vulnerable people may feel fear. Those harmed by power may carry another story. It is also true to the people in the time of Isaiah and Jesus.

It leads us to ask: What kind of soil are we cultivating in our nation? What seeds have Christians been sowing in this field? What has taken root? What has been choked? What needs rain, repentance, courage, and mercy?

When Christian faith is used to claim ownership of the field, Jesus shows us a sower with open hands. When Christian faith is used to decide who belongs, Jesus shows us seed scattered generously. When Christian faith is used to protect power, Jesus invites us to become good soil where the Word can take root and bear fruit.

That is the beautiful and steady calling of this parable. The field is God’s field, the seed is God’s word, and the growth is God’s mystery. We are invited to become good soil in that field, receiving the Word with humility, making room for growth, and trusting that God is at work even beneath the surface.

There is a story from the Civil Rights Movement that helps me hear this parable. In the summer of 1955, a woman from Montgomery, Alabama, went to the Highlander Folk School in Tennessee. Highlander was a place where Black people and white people gathered to talk, learn, and work toward breaking down racial barriers in the South.[3]

At first, this woman felt uncomfortable. She had been formed in a segregated society and was still learning how to live into that kind of interracial community, where people called one another “sister” and “brother” and “sibling” across the boundaries segregation had built.

While she was there, an African American teacher named Septima Clark[4] took her under her wing. Clark had taught in segregated schools in South Carolina and helped train people at Highlander during the summers. She encouraged this woman to live from gratitude and generosity rather than fear. She helped plant a seed.

Four months later, on December 1, 1955, that woman, Rosa Parks, refused to give up her seat on a bus in Montgomery. A seed that had been planted through many people, prayers, conversations, failures, acts of courage, and hidden moments of preparation began to bear fruit. [5] The Montgomery Bus Boycott began, and history changed. Today, bus number 2857 stands in the Henry Ford Museum of American Innovation in Dearborn, Michigan, as a witness to how one small act of courage, planted in prepared soil, grew into a movement that changed history.[6]

Rosa Parks’ courage grew in prepared soil. There was community, teaching, organizing, churches, elders, and people like Septima Clark helping prepare the ground for justice to grow. That is often how God works. A conversation becomes a seed. A Sunday school lesson becomes a seed. A welcome becomes a seed. A difficult but honest meeting becomes a seed. A prayer becomes a seed. A child watching adults choose courage receives a seed. A congregation learning to listen more deeply receives a seed.

Most of the time, we see only the beginning. We see the seed. We see a small act of faithfulness. The full harvest belongs to God. But Jesus says to keep sowing, and Isaiah says God’s word will accomplish what God intends.

That is deep hope. It is the hope of people who know the soil is troubled and still trust that rain can fall. It is the hope of people who know there are thorns and still trust that God can restore the field. The Spirit can help us make space for welcome, courage, justice, mercy, love, new growth, and the harvest God is preparing.

After the sermon, we will sing “Isaiah the Prophet Has Written of Old.” This hymn gives voice to the movement of today’s Scriptures. It names honestly that the brier and thorn tree still grow wild. It knows that nations still harm the meek and that the sweetness of the earth is still wounded. But the hymn also teaches us to pray Isaiah’s hope: that God will bring to fruition God’s will for the earth, that no one shall hurt or destroy, that wisdom and justice shall reign, and that God’s people shall go forth in joy.

Amen.

** Prayer after the sermon and hymn:

God of love, make us good soil for your word. Soften us with your mercy, deepen us in your love, and by your Spirit clear space within us for new life to grow. Shape us more fully in the way of Jesus, and make us a joyful and faithful people, ready to serve in your field.

The sower has gone out to sow. Your seed is still being scattered, your rain is still nourishing the earth, and your word is still at work among us. By your grace, may the fruit already beginning to grow in us become a blessing to our neighbors and to the world.

Amen.

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[1] https://www.ucc.org/what-to-the-christian-is-the-fourth-of-july/

[2] https://www.theguardian.com/world/2026/jun/10/only-one-in-10-europeans-now-see-us-as-an-ally-survey-suggests

[3] Joel B. Green, Thomas G. Long, Luke A. Powery, Cynthia L. Rigby, Carolyn J. Sharp. Connections: A Lectionary Commentary for Preaching and Worship (p. 368). Presbyterian Publishing Corporation. Kindle Edition.

[4] https://kinginstitute.stanford.edu/clark-septima-poinsette

[5] Douglas Brinkley, Rosa Parks (New York: Penguin Books, 2000), 96– 97.

[6] https://www.thehenryford.org/collections/explore/artifact/316872