“On the Rocks”

Luke 8: 4-15

4 And when a great crowd was gathering and people from town after town came to him, he said in a parable: 5 "A sower went out to sow his seed. And as he sowed, some fell along the path and was trampled underfoot, and the birds of the air devoured it. 6 And some fell on the rock, and as it grew up, it withered away, because it had no moisture. 7 And some fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up with it and choked it. 8 And some fell into good soil and grew and yielded a hundredfold." As he said these things, he called out, "He who has ears to hear, let him hear." 9 And when his disciples asked him what this parable meant, 10 he said, "To you it has been given to know the secrets of the kingdom of God, but for others they are in parables, so that 'seeing they may not see, and hearing they may not understand.'
11 Now the parable is this: The seed is the word of God. 12 The ones along the path are those who have heard; then the devil comes and takes away the word from their hearts, so that they may not believe and be saved. 13 And the ones on the rock are those who, when they hear the word, receive it with joy. But these have no root; they believe for a while, and in time of testing fall away. 14 And as for what fell among the thorns, they are those who hear, but as they go on their way they are choked by the cares and riches and pleasures of life, and their fruit does not mature. 15 As for that in the good soil, they are those who, hearing the word, hold it fast in an honest and good heart, and bear fruit with patience.

Digging a Hole

Ever try to dig a hole, like, anywhere in Upland? We planted an orange tree in the backyard, and digging the hole was not what I expected. In my mind’s eye I saw the edge of the shovel cutting into the deep, rich, coffee-colored soil and after maybe 9 or 10 shovel-fulls, having a clean, even-walled hole like a large flower pot set into the ground, ready to receive the new tree.

Not only was the ground hard like an overly-frozen carton of ice cream—you know, the kind you can’t get either a scoop or spoon into—but it was chock-full of rocks, like that ice cream was full of frozen cherries. You nearly break the spoon trying to get a taste.

Each strike sent a jarring jolt up to my elbow, and after about a hundred strokes, my feet were sore from jumping on the shovel like a pogo stick. The task took me five times longer than I imagined, and by the end of it I had had quite the  workout. I was sweaty, sore, and irritable for the rest of the morning.

Jesus says the Sower throws some of the seed onto the rocks, and they wither for lack of moisture. When seeds hit the rocks, they dry up and die. They may sprout for a moment, but the roots have nowhere to go—no soil to nourish them—so they die. This morning we’re going to look at the rocky soil—the context of doing ministry where there is little to no moisture—and consider how this affects us and our life here in Upland.

A Rocky Context

Jesus explains to us that the seeds among the rocks are where the word is preached and originally received with joy. Ah, received with joy—that’s good! So much of ministry today is built upon creating a good joyful feeling. “Come worship with us and feel joy,” is a common—though perhaps not explicit—invitation. There are churches that view themselves as a kind of joy factory—the prime mission being simply to help people feel joy each week. We get it, because joy is wonderful, but in this parable, Jesus makes it clear that joy is not enough.

We all experience some degree of joy at the beginning of a new hobby, new game or endeavor—we take it on as an adventure to be explored—a new pursuit that captures our imagination and sets aflame a new passion, but it’s also possible for any of these things to fail in time for lack of discipline once the rigors of mastery weigh too heavily. Getting a guitar for Christmas was a dream come true until I had to buckle down and learn the hard chords. You hit that plateau in your practice and you realize there’s going to be a lot of hard work and waiting before the next J-curve of happy growth. The initial joy we feel is never enough to achieve or sustain mastery—be it a musical instrument, learning a new language, or gardening—the joy phase is part of our infancy and we do not mature unless we persist through the dry periods.

Real discipleship always depends upon persistence in those periods of dryness and waiting. Faith may be received with joy, but can remain permanently immature if the focus remains on joy alone. Without growth and discipline, faith can wither. On the rocks, the seeds may sprout and the roots slither out in search of good soil but of we quit when things begin to feel hard, those roots will never find that soil; the sprout will wither and die.

No Moisture

The parable says the seeds on the rocks perished for lack of moisture. No water, no growth. These could not receive what they needed in order to mature. When trials come, they simply fall away because they developed no roots—nothing with which to hang on to the soil.

This is the foundation for our concern about the health/wealth gospel so prevalent in America. It began largely during the Second Great Awakening—between 1800 and 1830—when evangelists were circuit-riders, going from town to town to save souls in their one-night-stand revivals. I can’t overemphasize how important the Second Great Awakening was for American Christianity. It gave us a new kind of worship—worship designed as a sales pitch to the unsaved.

Every group today that we might say is obsessed with the Second Coming grew out of the Second Great Awakening: Mormonism, Darbyism, Seventh Day Adventism, Jehovah’s Witnesses, and all the Left Behind series-type of evangelicals—all owe their debt to that fiery stretch from 1800-1830.

I don’t know which came first—enthusiastic, American salesmanship or the kind of soul-saving preaching that grew during those first decades of the 19th century—but they are eerily similar.

“Don’t delay, this offer ends soon—decide now!”

“Jesus could return tonight. Do you know where your soul will go?”

“Sign your name here and now and you will enjoy the benefits forever!”

It is true sales, and that makes me suspicious. I’m not Scottish, but I guess I’ve been Presbyterian long enough to always resist being sold anything. Besides, there is something patently untoward—even crass— about selling Jesus and salvation like toothpaste or a used car.

Having said that, I praise God for the Second Great Awakening and the people who started on the road of faith as a result! But here’s the real deal: does that faith take root? Paul didn’t “save souls; he founded new churches. Coming to faith was never individualized but always communal. Two or three gathered in Jesus’ name, the churches at Philippi, Corinth, Ephesus, Colossae—all were congregations of the faithful, a gathering of Christians together to grow in Christ for the long term, not a one-time decision.

I spent over 15 years in youth ministry before my first solo pastorate. As a teenager, I went to church camps and Young Life camps every summer. In all of it, nothing is more heartbreaking than the young person who comes to camp and is groomed for the God decision all week long. The week culminates in an intense, tearful, final night around the campfire. I was part of it; I led those efforts and I am still there in spirit— major joyous highlights of my ministry and life have taken place around those campfires—but I have seen how one great night of holy joy can evaporate and dissipate into nothingness two weeks after camp is over.

Joy is not enough. It is not deep enough. There is not enough moisture to sustain true growth in it.

We see another kind of Christianity in America (one that I personally enjoy): it is the great rock concert as worship. Charisma and fire blast out of the sound system and pour from the big screens. It feels so good to praise God song after song—to bask in the presence of the Holy Spirit like lying on the beach under the sun. The Spirit is indeed active! In the flow, I feel like I would be happy for it to go on for hours! This worship style says: Come to our worship and be bathed, healed and renewed by the Holy Spirit as we immerse our whole hearts into the music—into the flow of praise! Part of me is right there—part of me says, Yes, that works for me!

I once served a new church development in the bay area. It is my hard-luck story—the project was ill-conceived and I was backstabbed by another pastor—leaving me without a call and living with my brother and his family. I was down with a  capital D, but God is good and led me to a small church in Pasadena. As I started work, I realized I was still wounded. I felt like damaged goods and a failure even as I jumped into the new work.

On my days off, I went to the Harvest Church to worship. It was one of those fellowships where the band all plays the same song over and over. The band members’ eyes were closed as they prayed through their instruments. They were not performing; they were worshiping. I worshiped with them and it felt good. It helped me heal.

However, I could only stay through the music. I could not listen to more than about a minute of the preaching in that church. They took liberties with Scripture that would make the most libertine liberal theologian blush with embarrassment.

It is not enough to feel good. It is insufficient just to enjoy basking in the sun, spread out on the rocks. Real faith demands rootedness in real soil .

A friend of mine is leading ministry in a Camaroonian fellowship. She shared some of her  great frustration with the church’s development.

“How’s worship?” I asked.

“Wonderful,” she says, “they are filled with the Spirit. They are very pentecostal and committed in their singing and prayer,  buuuut…they have a hard time realizing that they must be grounded in God’s Word if they are going to grow. I think some of them don’t even want to grow—they’re just happy with all the good feelings of worship.”

The downside of such fellowships is that unless, as my friend says, the people are grounded in God’s Word, they are irretrievably shallow—like seeds spread out on the rocks beneath the sun.

Pop Preaching

Norman Vincent Peale, Robert Schuller, Joel Osteen—three of the most popular and successful preachers of our era—all have something in common characterizing their ministry and messages; namely, they are all unswervingly committed to staying positive.

People love it! These preachers—and those like them—tend to be very successful in the worldly sense. Huge congregations, publishing deals, guest appearances on TV—so what is it that works so well, and why is our pastor too dumb to imitate them so we can boost our budget?

I say we are seeing the selling-out of the gospel of Jesus Christ whenever and wherever preachers avoid Christ’s suffering and cross. It feels good, it’s upbeat, and it is enormously popular, but when followers of Jesus ditch his cross for a singular celebration of his blessings, they proclaim a Jesus other than the one proclaimed in Scripture. That’s heresy—an immunization against the gospel.

The invitation to discipleship is not a sales job offering us infinite protection and prosperity. The invitation to follow Jesus is as antithetical to such a message as can be imagined: Want to follow Jesus? Here is a cross; come and die.

The seed which refuses to die can never live as a growing, flourishing plant.

Our goal, role and hope as a church is that we can offer you and yours deep soil—soil every bit as deep as you dare send your roots.

The good news is that even when the soil is filled with rocks, with God’s help, we find the good soil and 0ur roots grow in between.

May we become such a place: a place where every dry sprout can be transplanted and find good soil!  †