Sunday, July 12, 2026: "Growth is All Grace"

Watch the Sermon here

First United Presbyterian Church

“Growth is All Grace”

Rev. Amy Morgan

July 12, 2026

Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23 

That same day Jesus went out of the house and sat beside the sea. Such great crowds gathered around him that he got into a boat and sat there, while the whole crowd stood on the beach. And he told them many things in parables, saying: “Listen! A sower went out to sow. And as he sowed, some seeds fell on a path, and the birds came and ate them up. Other seeds fell on rocky ground, where they did not have much soil, and they sprang up quickly, since they had no depth of soil. But when the sun rose, they were scorched, and since they had no root, they withered away. Other seeds fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked them. Other seeds fell on good soil and brought forth grain, some a hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty. If you have ears, hear!”

“Hear, then, the parable of the sower. When anyone hears the word of the kingdom and does not understand it, the evil one comes and snatches away what is sown in the heart; this is what was sown on the path. As for what was sown on rocky ground, this is the one who hears the word and immediately receives it with joy, yet such a person has no root but endures only for a while, and when trouble or persecution arises on account of the word, that person immediately falls away. As for what was sown among thorns, this is the one who hears the word, but the cares of this age and the lure of wealth choke the word, and it yields nothing. But as for what was sown on good soil, this is the one who hears the word and understands it, who indeed bears fruit and yields in one case a hundredfold, in another sixty, and in another thirty.”“

You should plant a garden.” This was the worst idea I’d ever heard. I was serving a large church, raising a kid, caring for pets, trying to do life and all the things. The very last thing I needed was one more thing depending on me for anything, especially for its survival. I couldn’t keep a houseplant alive. Planting a garden was not something I should do. 

But the person who said these words to me knew better. She knew I needed to do something I wasn’t good at. She knew I needed to do something I couldn’t completely control. She knew that, when it comes to gardening, the harvest is always a grace. She planted seeds, she did her best, she waited without anxiety for whatever her garden would yield, and whatever the earth produced, she received with gratitude. 

Her ridiculous suggestion that I, too, should plant a garden, stuck with me for months. She had planted a seed, and slowly, over the dark, cold months of a Michigan winter, this idea began to grow. And the next spring, I began to dream about planting seeds. The cold, grey skies gave way in my imagination to roots pushing deep into the earth and green shoots beginning to emerge. 

So I planted a garden. I had no idea what I should plant or where, what kind of care each plant needed or whether or not any of them would survive. But by midsummer, all the kids in the neighborhood were picking cherry tomatoes and eating them like candy and we enjoyed salads and herbs fresh from the garden for dinner each night. It was magic. It was all grace. I hadn’t studied and learned to do it perfectly. I wasn’t anxious about the plants or insecure about doing it wrong. I put things in the ground, and some of them grew, and some of them grew a lot. 

More than a decade later, I’ve learned almost nothing new about gardening. I’ve kept it a grace-filled experience. I do compost at home and plant marigolds to keep the pests away. But mostly, I still just put things in the ground. Some of them die. Some of them grow. And some of them grow a lot. 

For Jesus, this is what ministry is all about. 

Jesus didn’t grow and tend a perfect garden. Jesus, God incarnate, a person of the creative Trinity that began all life in creation, did not force every seed to flourish and bloom in all conditions. He scattered seeds. And some of them died. Some of them grew. And some of them grew a lot. 

The narrative leading up to the parable we heard today is a whirlwind of activity. Jesus has been teaching, healing, and proclaiming the realm of God in cities around Judea. He’s pronounced woe on several of those cities because they did not repent. He’s gotten in big trouble with the religious authorities because he and his disciples plucked and ate grain on the Sabbath and, maybe just to rub it in, Jesus healed a man with a withered hand on the Sabbath and, just in case that wasn’t enough to make those religious authorities crazy-mad, he cast out a demon from a man on the Sabbath and they label him Beelzebul, the ruler of demons. He’s gotten real testy with the Pharisees and called them some choice names, even employing a call-back to John the Baptist’s “brood of vipers.” 

But it hasn’t been all bad. His disciples seemed interested in listening to him, learning, and participating meaningfully in his ministry. And more and more people were gathering around him, bringing people to be healed, and listening to his teaching. He’s eventually so overwhelmed with the abundance of people coming to hear him that he has to teach from a boat to crowds on the shore. 

This is all to say, by the time we get to the parable Jesus tells today, it’s clear that this isn’t a future-oriented, someday-this-might-happen kind of parable. As is true for most of Jesus’s parables, he’s describing what’s going on right now, directly under their noses. 

Parables are not instruction on how we’re supposed to live our lives. They aren’t an operating manual for faith. They are picture-stories of reality in the realm of God. 

And the reality is that Jesus and his disciples have been scattering seed like crazy. And a lot of it is not bearing fruit. And before any of them get too worked up about it, Jesus names this reality: we aren’t supposed to do this perfectly. The harvest is all grace. 

The moral of the parable is not: be more careful planting seeds and make sure they’re only in good soil. It’s not, stop wasting your seed where it won’t flourish. This isn’t about efficiency or effectiveness. In fact, it’s just the opposite. It’s extravagant. It’s wasteful, even. It’s inefficient. It’s irresponsible. And whatever grows and flourishes is all grace.

And this is how I’ve experienced ministry, too. 

Yes, I spent three years in seminary getting a Master of Divinity, which, in my humble opinion, is the most fantastic sounding degree on offer. But once I started actually doing ministry, it was all scattering seeds. It took me about 5 minutes to figure out that seminary had not prepared me for even the most basic ministry strategy – what would work, what would be life-giving, what would help people grow and thrive. 

There were so many factors outside my control – the influences people had in their lives that were much stronger than me; the anxieties and traumas and challenges folks were dealing with; the pressures and forces of society and culture; the resilience or lack thereof that people possessed. I couldn’t create perfect conditions for spiritual growth. Nor could I tell one kind of soil from another, quite frankly. 

So I scattered seed. I put things in the ground. I tried new ideas and dug up traditional models. I overwatered and under-fertilized and didn’t realize it until it was too late. I planted things next to each other that were incompatible. If anyone has assumed there is a method to my madness when it comes to ministry, I’m sorry to disillusion you. 

That’s not to say I haven’t attempted to cultivate healthy soil or discern how to better tend to folks’ spiritual needs. I do know a good bit more about ministry than I do gardening, and I’ve kept learning over the years. But mostly, it’s still all grace. Whatever lives, flourishes, and produces abundantly is a small miracle. The conditions for life happened to be present where some of the seed fell. 

This is a really challenging concept, especially for American Christians. I have bookshelves full of ideas on how to create a vital congregation, a more generous congregation, a more inter-generational congregation. I’ve attended all the conferences on how to be more effective and efficient in ministry. We have a 30-day growth plan and developed a long-term growth strategy. The Christian publishing business thrives on the fear of churches in decline. We are looking for ways to find that good soil and get that hundredfold harvest. 

And what Jesus is telling us in this parable is something we really don’t want to hear: it’s not our job to be picky about soil, to be selective in our ministry efforts. We’re supposed to scatter seed, and it falls where it falls. Some things will die. Some things will grow. Some things will grow a lot. And it’s all a grace. 

Our church, like most churches, is anxious about growth. We fret about the scarcity of human and financial resources to keep our ministry going and expanding. We want that hundredfold harvest. And now, with a transition in pastoral leadership, that anxiety has the potential to accelerate. 

So I will tell you this: churches that are really and truly flourishing today, those that are seeing that hundredfold harvest, are not the ones that follow the 7-step plan for growth or strategize for efficiency or innovate for relevance. The churches that are really and truly flourishing are those who scatter seeds, who give everything away, who are wasteful in their extravagant love and care for their communities. These churches do radical things like wiping out medical debt for their neighbors, turn their buildings into affordable housing, and create free libraries in their basements. They worry more about how far and wide they can spread God’s love and less about their return on investment. 

And this is that kind of church. That’s why we’ve been so compatible in ministry together for nine years. That’s why I came here in the first place. We know how to scatter seeds. We know that whatever works, whatever is life-giving, whatever produces a good harvest, is a grace. God has created ideal conditions for growth all around us, and we just have to share God’s love as expansively as possible. This is what we’ve done for nine years. And we have witnessed lives transformed, souls made whole, and neighbors become family. 

Does that mean we have all the human and financial resources that would make this easy? Nope. Remember, this is wasteful, not efficient. Scarcity and fear make us hold back, try to control the conditions for growth, try to guarantee results. But that’s just not how it works. Growth is all grace. 

But scattering seeds is still hard work. We have to walk way outside our comfort zone sometimes. We have to give away more than feels comfortable. We have to watch birds snatch up some of our seed. We have to witness some things wither and die or get choked by weeds. Most of the things we do won’t succeed. And that is hard. 

But when we hit that good soil, when our efforts happen to come into contact with the perfect conditions for growth that God has created, we get to witness miracles. We get to experience grace. We get to participate in growth and wholeness. 

We are, each of us, products of someone else scattering seed. We are, each of us, recipients of the grace of good soil. And we are, all of us, invited into the grace-filled work of ministry with Jesus Christ. 

So let’s keep scattering seeds. Even when it feels like the last thing we should do or want to do. Even when it feels scary to give extravagantly and abundantly. Even when it feels like most of what we do isn’t working. Keep scattering seeds. Because the harvest will be amazing, and it is all grace. 

To God be all glory forever and ever. Amen.