At the Bible study on Tuesday, somewhere along the way we got to talking about crying in church and how uncomfortable that can be. I used to be uncomfortable about it, but I had to get over it because I am so prone to crying at church. After all, we talk about things that matter here. Life and death, joy and sorrow all are a part of the life of the church because people live their lives in congregations. That’s not even mentioning that we come to encounter God, which also makes me cry. So, yes, there’s a lot of things to bring tears to my eyes at church and maybe yours too.

That said, how much I cry now is nothing in comparison to how much I used to cry at church when I’d seldom go or when I first went back in earnest. Sometimes I’d even cry during the Creed, for goodness sake. It’s not much of a weepy moment, but it was also powerful for me some days to stand up and say, “We believe in one God…,” alongside everyone else. That was enough some days to bring me to tears, which makes me think we should recite the creeds more often, perhaps.

I think my tears all those years ago reflected the depth of my need for the gifts of the church. I needed the Word, the community, and communion. I needed God in a way I couldn’t find on my own and so entering into a community of faith sometimes touched me so deeply at times that I’d just have tears rolling down my face to receive communion. Everything I received at church during that time seemed to go deep into my soul and so in those moments, and during other times of deep need, I’d say I was good soil.

To be clear, being good soil wasn’t my doing. I didn’t do anything other than show up to church in deep need with open hands in order to receive. It’s uncomfortable and not fun to be in deep need, so I can honestly say that as good as it was for me to be good soil and to receive God’s good grace so deeply, I am not sure how much I really want to be good soil all the time. My capacity to deeply receive the Good News at that time reflected the deep need I felt. Frankly, I prefer life when I’m less needy. I like feeling like my feet are on stable ground.

That’s not to say I don’t want to understand the Word of God, but there’s a difference between understanding in our heads and understanding in a deep, soulful way that brings the tears. We can hear the gospel in fairly shallow ways, because it’s not, for whatever reason, not reaching the deep soil of our souls on any given Sunday. However, when you hear God’s Word and it hits deep in your soul, maybe even to the point of tears, you are perhaps good soil in that moment. These are different experiences and realities, which need not come with judgement. Like I said, I’m happy to spend my days not being the most amazing soil.

So, this means on any given day, we can be good soil. But we can also spend a lot of time in the state of being a briar-filled patch of dirt, distracted by the demands and worries of the world. We can be hard pack clay that is so sure we already know all we need to know that a new inspiration of the Spirit doesn’t have a chance of breaking through…at least not in that moment. There’s many ways for the gospel to not take root in us, but when it does, when we are good soil, watch out. Some serious fruit, some serious yield of grain, some serious transformation is on its way!   

There are times that we can’t help but be good soil, because the rototiller of life had done its work on us and we’re all broken up. That’s one way to be good soil, for sure. Not my favorite way, but an effective way. Jesus, however, gives us other clues of how to be receptive without necessarily being tilled. He often tells us in the gospel that we need to be like children to enter the Kingdom. Or we have to be foolish or weak. For example, in last week’s gospel, Jesus said, “I thank^[a] you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and the intelligent and have revealed them to infants.” (Matthew 11:25)

So, let’s think about small children, like toddlers. Imagine a small child who is very busy trying to do something on their own with a parent watching. That parent most likely isn’t going to interrupt their very busy, learning child from trying to do something on their own, even if it’s clearly not a stunning success because they are learning. They’re engaged. The child doesn’t want mom or dad swooping in to do the thing for them, right? And the parents want their little one to learn and be engaged. However, when the child gets frustrated enough, they’ll ask for help, and the parent will be there to help.  

Isn’t that what we are all like, even when we’re all grown up? Very often, we have to reach the end of our capacities before we remember to ask for help, sometimes particularly from God. So, perhaps what Jesus is asking of us in this parable is to improve the fecundity of our soil by no longer pretending that we know everything, that everything is in fact good when it’s not, of that we don’t need help.  We can actually soften and practice being receptive to God, love, and all the gifts of life.

So, here are two practices that may cultivate being reasonably decent soil:

• Practice recognizing when you don’t know something and admit it

• Complain

Neither of these activities were taught by Jesus, but he did say to become like children. So, what are children like? Well, for one, they don’t know all the things yet, so they ask questions. And they complain. They let you know when they need something with tear or words, if they are in homes that are safe enough for them to ask, that is. Not knowing things and complaining both open us up in vulnerability a bit like children are vulnerable. This is awkward for us but it also gives others and God the opportunity to step in and be of service and to love you.

I understand the value of faking it until we make it and having a stiff upper lip and all that jazz. There are times and places for everything. At a minimum God needs to know and be given permission to step in and help, just like a parent of a frustrated toddler would do. What if we whined to God? Complained, stomped our feet, shook our fists about the agony of our own lives, but also the darkness in the world. I wonder what would happen if we practiced being away of our needs, personal and collective, and brought them all to God instead of being convinced of our own power or our own lies that everything is just fine?

Now I realize I might have just opened a Pandora’s Box in everyone’s families by encouraging complaining and not knowing stuff, so please be judicious in these suggestions. But when it comes to God, to Jesus, feel free. Complain, ask, and repeat with a thanks thrown in there now and again and then watch what happens. Ask for help in receiving God’s gifts, too. And notice when the tears come at church because those tears might just be telling you about your good soil and where in your being you need God’s action. God is indeed active our lives and in this world so bring that ache to God, ask for help to receive with open hands, and see that the Lord is good.  

AMEN