Matthew 13:3-9
“A farmer went out to sow his seed. As he was scattering the seed, some fell along the path, and the birds came and ate it up. Some fell on rocky places, where it did not have much soil. It sprang up quickly, because the soil was shallow. But when the sun came up, the plants were scorched, and they withered because they had no root. Other seed fell among thorns, which grew up and choked the plants. Still other seed fell on good soil, where it produced a crop – a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown. He who has ears, let him hear.”
Matthew 13:18-19
“Listen to what the parable of the sower means: When someone hears the message about the kingdom and does not understand it, the evil one comes and snatches away what was sown in his heart. This is the seed sown along the path.
During my final year in seminary, back in the mid ‘80’s, I had to complete a unit of study called “Clinical Pastoral Education,” or, “C.P.E.” I was assigned as a student chaplain to a large suburban hospital that had several full time chaplains on staff. My particular assignment involved visiting patients on an oncology wing.
Even though I had grown up in a ministry family, and had been in churches all my life, this was a new experience for me. I had to walk “cold turkey” into the rooms of people who were in various stages of very serious treatment, some of who knew they were dying. They had no idea who I was or why I was coming into their room. I was supposed to introduce myself, tell them I was a student chaplain, and then try to discern if I could offer any ministry or encouragement to them or their family members who may be with them.
It was awkward at best, but I did the best I could to offer care and prayer to strangers who were suffering.
One day one of the nurses caught me as I walked onto the wing. She told me I should go see the man in room 512 (I no longer remember the actual room number). So I went.
As I entered the room I saw a gaunt looking man who seemed to me to be about 75 years old and clearly very, very sick. His skin had the grayish/yellow tone I have come to know signals the final stages of life.
My first instinct, I’m sorry to say, was to turn on my heels and leave the room before he saw me; I just felt helpless.
But before I could do that the man looked up and growled, “Who the h___ are you?”
I stammered out, “Uh, I’m the student chaplain on this floor, and I just stopped by to….” I never finished my sentence.
The man interrupted me, “I don’t need a “blankety-blank” (read: “unprintable profanity”) chaplain!”
I was surprised more than offended. But I did what seemed like my only option at the time; I turned and left the room.
When I came back two days later the man was gone. He had died the day I walked out of his room.
I wished I had stayed. He did need a chaplain, he was just too proud to admit it.
Read again Jesus words:
When someone hears the message about the kingdom and does not understand it, the evil one comes and snatches away what was sown in his heart. This is the seed sown along the path.
While it sounds like the hardened heart simply doesn’t “understand” the message of the kingdom; like I struggled to understand trigonometry in high school; a better translation of the phrase Jesus uses might be, “does not receive it.”
I think the man in that hospital room did not want to receive me as a chaplain because he didn’t want to need a chaplain, just like he didn’t want to need God.
That’s the very definition of pride. And while all sin hardens our hearts, pride is particularly deadly.
Pride, by its very nature, resists the gospel. Pride keeps us from the freedom and humility of confession. Pride says, “I don’t need help. I don’t need God. I can do it myself, thank you!”
C.S. Lewis’ great essay, “The Great Divorce,” revolves around a bus that travels each day from hell to heaven. Residents of the former are welcome to make the journey, and even to get off the bus and stay in heaven, if they will only confess their need for the forgiveness of Christ. But, in most cases, that is the one thing they are unwilling to do.
One character, upon learning the requirement to stay in God’s heaven, says, “I only want my rights. I’m not asking for anybody’s bleeding charity.”
The citizen of heaven who is accompanying him responds, “Then do. At once. Ask for the Bleeding Charity.”
Pride was the sin of Lucifer, the angel of light, that caused him to be cast out of heaven (Luke 10:18; Isaiah 14:12).
And pride is what hardens our hearts so that we can’t bear to receive the kingdom message of grace and repentance.
But, again, the good farmer does not give up on hard soil. He is willing to use every tool at his disposal to break through the crust so that the seed has a chance to grow.
Sometimes he simply allows the consequences of our pride to break us. And sometimes his love can look an awful lot like an iron plow or a jackhammer.
Have you ever allowed pride to harden your heart? Have you ever felt the power of his grace plow through the crusty surface of your soul?
Are you ready to ask for his Bleeding Charity?
Pastor Brian Coffey
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