Cultivated by Grace

Me: Orientation

A few years ago, working out was simply part of my daily rhythm.

I genuinely enjoyed it...

I’d spend about ninety minutes doing cardio...

...and every weekend, I’d head out to explore a new hiking trail.

Sometimes I’d spend an entire day in the woods...

Now… I should probably admit that my sense of adventure occasionally exceeded my sense of direction.

More than once, I’d have to call Dennis and say,

“Sooo… I have hiked a little farther than I planned...

Could you meet me at the nearest road?”

Let’s just say he wasn’t always thrilled when the trail I’d chosen happened to be two hours from home.

But despite the occasional rescue mission, hiking and working out became one of the ways I cared for both my body and mind.

Then… I started seminary.

In Seminary, there is reading… and a lot of reading...

So, something had to give...

Unfortunately, it was my health.

Over the last three years, I gained more than forty pounds.

As graduation approached this spring, I kept thinking,

“I can’t wait to get back into a healthier rhythm.”

I even bought myself an elliptical as a graduation gift.

It arrived in April.

Two weeks later...

I had a severe reaction to an antibiotic that injured tendons in my knee and Achilles heel.

The doctor told me recovery would be slow.

So much for my plans...

Then, seven weeks later, Dennis and I traveled to Taiwan.

One of the things he really wanted to do was hike Elephant Mountain.

It’s mostly a staircase that overlooks Taipei.

The signs said the climb should take about twenty-two minutes.

It took me... an hour.

Every few flights of stairs, I’d stop.

...catch my breath...

...rest my legs...

...and let’s just say there were a few moments when Dennis probably wished he’d climbed the mountain with someone who used slightly holier language...

...but something unexpected happened when we finally reached the top...

...once my breathing slowed...

...once my nervous system settled...

...once I stopped staring at the next step and finally looked out over the city...

I realized something...

I wasn’t where I used to be.

When I got home, I climbed back onto the elliptical.

Not for an hour...

Just twenty minutes...

Growth doesn’t happen by pretending we’re already stronger than we are...

Growth happens by faithfully taking the next step.

I think many of us assume our spiritual lives should work differently.

We want God to transform us as quickly as we want to get back into shape.

We want to skip the slow work of growth.

We want the fruit...

...without cultivation.

But in today’s Gospel, Jesus tells a different story...

We: Identification

Maybe you’ve had a moment like that...

Not necessarily on a mountainside in Taiwan...

...but somewhere in your own life.

You realized...

“I’m not where I used to be.”

Sometimes it’s physical...

...the body doesn’t recover as quickly.

...the knees ache...

...the diagnosis changes what you can do...

Sometimes it’s emotional...

...you have buried someone you love.

...you’ve spent months or years caring for a spouse, parent, or child.

...retirement came, and instead of feeling free, you found yourself asking, “Now what?”

Sometimes it’s relational...

...a friendship changes...

...a marriage goes through a difficult season...

...children grow up and move away....

...and sometimes it’s spiritual....

...you remember seasons when prayer came easily...

...when serving others brought deep joy...

...when trusting God seemed almost natural...

But somewhere along the way...

...life happened…

...disappointments accumulated...

...habits faded...

...questions emerged....

Then we begin to wonder quietly...

“Why am I not where I thought I’d be by now?”

I wonder if part of the challenge is that we’ve been formed by a culture that imagines growth as climbing a ladder.

Success means moving higher...

...earning more...

...accomplishing more...

...producing more...

...always moving upward...

...and if we’re not careful...

...we begin to imagine the Christian life works the same way.

We expect ourselves to be farther along by now...

...more patient...

...more trusting...

... more mature...

...and when we discover we’re not…

...we quietly ask:

“What’s wrong with me?”

...or perhaps...

...“Have I failed God?”

...but maybe we’ve been measuring spiritual growth with the wrong metaphor...

...because ladders are climbed...

...but, gardens are cultivated...

One measures success by how high you’ve gone...

...the other by whether life is taking root.

So perhaps, the better question isn’t...

“What haven’t I climbed higher?

Maybe we should ask...

“Where is God cultivating my life today?”

Because that…

...is how gardens grow...

...and perhaps, that’s how grace works too.

You see, friends, Jesus doesn’t tell a story about climbing...

...he tells a story about sowing.

God: Illumination

So let’s turn to Jesus’ parable.

When I first heard this passage, my attention immediately went to the four soils.

Which one am I?

...am I the path?

...the rocky soil?

...the thorny soil?

...or the good soil?

But before Jesus ever says a word about the soil....

He introduces us to the Sower.

That’s where the story begins.

...not with us...

...but with God.

The Sower walks into the field scattering seed everywhere.

Not just on the fertile ground...

...but everywhere.

...on the path...

...among the rocks...

...into the thorns...

...and into the good soil.

I don’t think you have to be a farmer to realize that’s a terrible business plan.

It’s extravagant...

...almost reckless.

...and that is precisely the point.

Jesus is telling us something about the heart of God.

God’s grace is never stingy.

It is always moving toward us before we ever move toward God.

John Wesley called this prevenient grace...

Before we seek God...

God is already seeking us.

Before we pray...

God is already at work...

Before we even realize we need grace...

God has already begun sowing the seed of new life.

The Sower doesn’t begin by asking...

“Is this soil worthy?”

The Sower simply sows...

Now...

...that doesn’t mean every seed bears fruit.

Jesus is honest about that detail...

Sometimes hearts become hardened...

Life disappoints us...

Pain closes us off...

Sometimes we receive God’s Word with joy…

…only to discover that suffering, anxiety, or the lure of wealth can choke the life God longs to grow within us.

But here’s what I find fascinating...

Jesus never says,

“You are permanently rocky soil.” or “You will always be thorny ground.”

He simply describes conditions in which grace is received.

Conditions that can change.

Because that’s what gardeners do...

...they cultivate...

...they soften hardened ground...

...they remove stones...

...they pull weeds...

...they patiently tend the soil...

...and that brings me to one little piece of church history that has helped me tremendously.

When we hear the word 'perfect,' we usually think of it through the lens of the Latin tradition shaping our English language.

Perfect means flawless...

...without mistakes...

...no defects...

...no failures...

But the New Testament wasn’t written in Latin.

It was written in Greek...

...and the Greek word Jesus uses in Matthew’s Gospel—teleios… carries a different emphasis.

Not flawless...

...but mature...

...whole...

Growing into God’s intended purpose.

John Wesley understood that distinction.

So when he spoke about Christian perfection, he wasn’t inviting Christians to become people who never made another mistake.

He was inviting us to become people whose lives were increasingly perfected in love.

The grace of God continually cultivates people.

...not finished Christians...

...but growing Christians.

That’s why the end of the parable matters so much...

Jesus doesn’t celebrate a perfect field...

He celebrates an abundant harvest.

...thirty...

...sixty...

...a hundredfold!

Not because the soil achieved something remarkable...

...but because the life of God had taken root.

That’s the surprise of the parable....

...the miracle isn’t that some people finally become “good enough.”

The miracle is that, over time, grace restores the image of God within us until love becomes the deepest desire of our hearts.

You: Application

So friends, what does this look like tomorrow morning?

I want to invite you to cooperate with the grace that is already at work in your life.

John Wesley called prayer, searching the Scriptures, Holy Communion, Christian Conferencing, and acts of kindness the means of grace.

Not because they earn God’s love...

...because they don’t...

You see, grace always comes first.

Instead, Wesley believed these were ordinary places where the Divine Gardener tends the soil of our hearts.

...or perhaps, in today’s language...

...they’re a little like spiritual physical therapy.

If you’ve ever been through physical therapy after an injury, you know the exercises rarely look impressive.

...lift, stretch, balance, repeat…

The fact is, one session doesn’t restore strength overnight.

...but week after week...

...those small, faithful exercises slowly strengthen muscles you thought had been lost.

I think the means of grace work much the same way.

Prayer, Scripture, Holy Communion, Acts of Kindness, they don’t earn God’s grace...

...they help us cooperate with grace.

So this week...

I’d like to invite you to a practice, just one simple exercise.

Before you begin your day....

...or perhaps before you end it...

...take five quiet minutes and open a few verses of Scripture.

...offer a simple prayer...

...and ask one question:

“Divine Gardner… or perhaps… The Great Physical Therapist… where are you cultivating my life today?”

We: Inspiration

...and as you wait for that answer in your heart...

Hear the good news!

The Sower is still sowing.

The Divine Gardener is still cultivating.

...and yes, the Great Physical Therapist still hasn’t given up on you.

Maybe today your heart feels hard.

...the Sower still sows.

Maybe your roots don’t feel very deep.

...the Divine Gardener is still cultivating.

Maybe you’ve grown weary from the slow work of healing.

...The Great Physical Therapist still believes there’s strength yet to be restored.

Because the good news of the Gospel has never been that we finally climbed high enough.

The good news is that God's grace never stopped reaching toward us.

Season after season...

...prayer after prayer...

...Scripture after Scripture...

...one act of kindness after one act of kindness...

God patiently restores the image of God within us until love becomes the deepest desire of our hearts.

So this week...

...don’t measure your life by the ladder.

Measure it by the next faithful step.

In the name of our Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer. Amen.