When Good Seeds and Good Soil Meet

My church Bible study group was discussing Matthew 13:3–23 the other day. This is where Jesus describes what happens to seeds falling on four different types of ground. The hard-packed surface of the wayside leaves seeds exposed to birds’ hungry beaks. Stony areas have soil too thin for their roots to grow. Thorny ground squeezes the life out of them. Fruitfulness comes when good seeds and good soil meet.

Could the Seed Be Saved?

We talked about the soil representing the condition of our hearts. But then someone questioned whether the parable implied the type of ground was fixed in a permanent condition. Were some people just “stony” by nature? Are others especially subject to being overcrowded with worries? Could someone be too dense to understand God’s Word, like the wayside ground, so that it’s always snatched immediately away?

That’s when the gardener in many of us came to life. We decided every one of the seeds in the parable could have been preserved. If only the one responsible to tend each patch had amended or defended the soil.

Stretching nets over the wayside could have kept the birds away long enough for baby roots to dig in. Stirring compost between the rocks could have retained water for thirsty seeds. Identifying and clearing away thorns would have made way for new life.

Had the landowners attended to their duties, every patch of ground could have been transformed from inhospitable to productive.

What if Our Efforts Aren’t Enough?

Then one person in our group asked: what if we look after our plot to the best of our ability and still find our hearts unfruitful? We believe, we trust, we try to understand, but our faith fails to produce anything.

If we are left to cultivate our hearts on our own, we can only wait and hope for conditions to change. But we are not among those who are left alone. We have an Over-gardener in the Kingdom of God who walks the rows with us.

He is not God above, who cannot hear us from heaven, but Emannuel—God with us—who makes our hearts his habitation. He is intimately familiar with the condition of our soil and his love cares whether we are fruitful or not. When we are confident of his goodwill toward us, we can sing with Habakkuk even when we don’t yet see his blessing.

“Though the fig tree may not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines; though the labor of the olive may fail, and the fields yield no food; though the flock may be cut off from the fold, and there be no herd in the stalls—yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation” (Habakkuk 3:17–18).

We joy in him because we know him as the Creator of the little plot called Eden, as the one who sends rain in its season (Deuteronomy 11:13–14), as the one who makes deserts bloom (Isaiah 35:1), as the one who removes stony hearts and replaces them with flesh (Ezekiel 36:26).

His Promise is Sure

His promise is sure and, though we wait for it, we know it will indeed come. If we have any shortfall while we’re waiting, he will also make up for it as he says in Joel.

“Be glad then, you children of Zion, and rejoice in the Lord your God; for He has given you the former rain faithfully, and He will cause the rain to come down for you—the former rain, and the latter rain in the first month. The threshing floors shall be full of wheat, and the vats shall overflow with new wine and oil. So I will restore to you the years that the swarming locust has eaten, the crawling locust, the consuming locust, and the chewing locust, my great army which I sent among you. You shall eat in plenty and be satisfied, and praise the name of the Lord your God, Who has dealt wondrously with you” (Joel 2:23–26 NKJV).

So, look up, all you heart gardeners. You do not plow alone. Tend to your heart with all of your strength. See to your soil and dig out the thorns and trust the one who sends the rain. He will make sure it accomplishes the purpose for which he sends it.