‘So shall my word that goes out from my mouth, it shall not return to me empty’ (Isaiah 55. 11)
Any farmer or gardener will tell you that good sowing begins long before you plant the seed.
Preparing the soil isn’t just a means to an end, it’s a vital part of the whole ecosystem of tending the land. Finding good soil, adding nutrients, water, oxygen; adding support where needed; and only then planting the seed.
Tending the soil is a good image for us to think about as a church.
The prophet Isaiah looks to the hope and restoration of his people in exile and offers this beautiful image of God tending the soil. Before the seed is planted, God tends the soil. Just as rain and snow come from heaven and do not return to the heavens until they’ve watered the earth … ‘so shall my word be’.
Note that this beloved image is not about the seed or its growth, but about the preparation of the soil for the seed.
It is as if Isaiah gives us the ‘story before the story’ of the Parable of the Sower.
In the parable Jesus tells, we have the Sower spreading seed extravagantly across the whole landscape, good and bad soil, thorns and paths. Here, when we often focus on the seed, or indeed the Sower, Jesus pays most attention to the soil itself.
These scriptures invite us then to consider: What kind of soil do we need for things to grow well?
What kind of soil do we need to tend for God’s word to take root and grow in our hearts, in the parishes and communities we serve, across the world – in the whole created order? How do we tend that soil?
Last week, at the Anglican Consultative Council meeting in Belfast, a gathering of representatives from across the Anglican Communion, reflecting the diverse Anglican Church, I spoke about ‘tending the soil of trust in which hope can grow’.
That was a particular message for our conversations together as the Anglican Communion, but it also resonates well with our life together as a Church, and in our time here in at General Synod.
How do we tend the soil of trust in which hope can grow?
Inside and outside General Synod, some will say we’re fragmented as a church; others will see signs of hope; some will be seeking a church that prioritises putting itself in order; others will be seeking a church that confronts the injustice and disorder of our world with a bold and hopeful voice but always built on the foundation of Christ.
If we are to accomplish any of these things—let alone all of them—tending the soil that is our lives is key. It is impossible to grow trust and hope without such good soil. It is impossible for the word of God to flourish without good soil.
Tending the soil of our lives is about spending time studying the scriptures, in prayer and worship and in careful listening. Tending the soil of our lives is about the decision and actions we take in which we hope, and expect, that God will be at work, even (and especially) when it is easier to think God will not show up and things will not get better. Tending the soil is a small action founded on hope. It is also a radical act of resistance against despair and lack of faith in God.
I am reminded of the small, but radical action of planting a tree.
When I arrived at Lambeth Palace one of the first things I did was plant two magnolia trees with our head gardener. For me, this was a small action founded on my hope, and expectation, that God would do a new thing; that God would be at work in the growth and in the harvest; that God would be faithful to his promise that ‘nothing will be impossible with God’.
Tending the soil is the work of each of us. I have seen soil tended in parishes, churches and communities around the country.
In the Diocesan visits I’ve shared over the past few months, it has been such a joy to celebrate the life of the church. Faithful people, tending the soil, tilling the ground, making space for hearts to be transformed by the seed of God’s word; young people offered places of safety, care and nurture, where they can grow in the faith; hospital and ambulance chaplains offering hope in times of crisis and suffering.
None of these are grand acts. They are the simple, daily acts of love and care that every member of every church in England can do to reflect God’s love to another. These acts start with hope that God can and will use them—and, in that way, they prepare the soil in which God’s words of forgiveness, of restoration, of love, of flourishing can take root.
In our life as a Church, there is great need for hope and trust to be tended. And I use that word carefully, thinking of the tenderness with which we need to treat one another; the gentleness with which we need to tend to one another; the generosity of spirit we need to inhabit especially where we hold different views.
In the report on Trust and Trustworthiness which we will consider as a Synod, Professor Veronica Hope Hailey and Professor David Ford have helped us to discern how trust and trustworthiness might be restored within the life of the church. Relationships of trust are the soil from which hope springs. If hope is the fruit, trust is the root. And roots grow slowly, with patience, listening, and the steady work of walking together.
Across our Church there is no shortage of passion, conviction, or commitment. Indeed, Prof Hope Hailey expresses her amazement in the report at how deeply committed you and your fellow church members are to the Church. Yet many of us would recognise that commitment is not trust, and the trust we do see is fragile. Many in the Church have been wounded. We cannot simply vote trust into existence, as if those wounds will heal with the raising of a few hands. Neither can we create hope through anxiety, fear or urgency.
Christian hope is the confidence that God is still at work, tending the soil, tilling the earth, sending the rain and the snow, planting the seed. These are all acts of hope, built on trust that God is at work even when we don’t see the results just yet. God’s word will not return empty. God is faithful – we need not act from fear; we need not act from anxiety; and we need not imagine that the future of the Church rests solely in our hands.
Isaiah’s vision of restoration shows us what’s possible when we allow God to tend the soil of our hearts:
‘For you shall go out in joy and be led back in peace; the mountains and the hills before you shall burst into song, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.’
Perhaps God has planted a seed in your heart today. Perhaps you feel inspired to serve God in a new way—as a volunteer, a youth worker, a churchwarden or a chaplain, perhaps as a deacon or a priest. You never know when and where God might nudge someone towards ordination.
Whatever the case, don’t go from here without making a commitment to do thing God is asking you to do - to tend the soil of your life. Make yourself available to God. Open your heart and mind listening to God. Be ready to respond with a small act of love and care - an act of resistance against despair and hopelessness.
Let us tend the soil of our lives; let us tend the soil of trust in our church in which hope can grow – that we might witness the remarkable harvest God will yield.
And May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.
Amen.
