Sermon - Reckless Grace

As a kid, did you have a favourite activity?

Mine was riding my BMX bike. I had a Huffy named Herbie. I’m sure you remember the movies about the car named Herbie that could understand people and figured out ways to communicate to them. My bike and I were like that. I talked to him, and he got messages to me any way he could.

The first day I raced Herbie, he was nervous. He was a trail bike, not a race bike. I told him he could win the race if he just believed in us. As we lined up at the starting line, he was filled with newfound courage and he suggested a new-and-improved winning strategy.

This track was not round like most dirt tracks, it was a downhill track with some awesome jumps. The guy starting the race said one line to the entire row of young first-time racers, “Take that first corner slow, the drop in is faster than it looks.”

Herbie shook his little front forks back and forth. “NO! We are going to win! Follow my lead!”

When the starting gun fired, we charged out of that gate and left the other 8-year-olds in our dust. Herbie steered to the outside of the first corner and up into the top line of the berm. When we got to the middle of the berm, Herbie turned abruptly down, and we dropped into the steepest part of the track, adding momentum to the head of speed we had already built up.

We shot out of that corner like a rocket ship leaving the atmosphere. The rest of the racers were nowhere to be seen. As we exited the berm and propelled down the track at a new angle, we faced our first obstacle. A 5-foot tabletop jump. 5 feet up, 5 feet flat, 5 feet down. Most racers ride across the top. Not me and Herbie. We hit that thing so hard that when we got to the end of the 5-feet-up section, we just kept going up. We didn’t touch the 5 feet flat or the five feet down. We just flew over the whole jump.

My Dad said we went higher than the starposts that held the rope of flags outlining the course. It was an epic jump. 10 seconds that felt like 10 hours. And then – what goes up must come down. And that we did. Herbie hit first, and then I landed straddling Herbie’s crossbar and went over the handlebars, face-first into the dirt.

End of race one for Team Herbie.

Have you ever noticed how much energy we use trying to strategise our own success? We think we’ve got life under control. We aim down the track and make plans and create truly cringeworthy sites for those watching from the sidelines. The “ooohs” and “owwws” float over us as we lie crumpled on the track. Then, just to add insult to injury, a group of 8-year-olds in oversized jumpers ride past on both sides of you, as if you don’t exist.

Life done “my way” is life wasted. We see this beautifully and tragically illustrated in our Old Testament passage today in Genesis 25:20-34.

THE BIRTH OF JACOB AND ESAU

20 Isaac was forty years old when he took as his wife Rebekah daughter of Bethuel the Aramean from Paddan-aram and sister of Laban the Aramean. 21 Isaac prayed to the Lord on behalf of his wife because she was childless. The Lord was receptive to his prayer, and his wife Rebekah conceived. 22 But the children inside her struggled with each other, and she said, “Why is this happening to me?” So she went to inquire of the Lord. 23 And the Lord said to her:

Two nations are in your womb;

two peoples will come from you and be separated.

One people will be stronger than the other,

and the older will serve the younger.

24 When her time came to give birth, there were indeed twins in her womb. 25 The first one came out red-looking, covered with hair like a fur coat, and they named him Esau. 26 After this, his brother came out grasping Esau’s heel with his hand. So he was named Jacob. Isaac was sixty years old when they were born.

ESAU SELLS HIS BIRTHRIGHT

27 When the boys grew up, Esau became an expert hunter, an outdoorsman, but Jacob was a quiet man who stayed at home. 28 Isaac loved Esau because he had a taste for wild game, but Rebekah loved Jacob.

29 Once when Jacob was cooking a stew, Esau came in from the field exhausted. 30 He said to Jacob, “Let me eat some of that red stuff, because I’m exhausted.” That is why he was also named Edom.

31 Jacob replied, “First sell me your birthright.”

32 “Look,” said Esau, “I’m about to die, so what good is a birthright to me?”

33 Jacob said, “Swear to me first.” So he swore to Jacob and sold his birthright to him. 34 Then Jacob gave bread and lentil stew to Esau; he ate, drank, got up, and went away. So Esau despised his birthright.

If you ever worry that your family is too messy for God to use, look at Isaac and Rebekah’s household. In the ancient Near East, the birthright was everything. It guaranteed a double portion of the inheritance and family leadership. Esau, the rugged firstborn, was entitled to it. Jacob, the grasping second-born, wanted it.

The tragic comedy of this narrative is that both brothers operate out of a scarcity mindset. Esau is ruled by his flesh—willing to trade his future for a bowl of red lentil stew because he is captive to his immediate appetite. Jacob is ruled by his anxiety—scheming to steal what God had already promised him before he was born. Yet, scripture shows us, over and over, that God’s election is entirely based on grace, not human performance.

God doesn’t choose Jacob because Jacob is moral; He chooses Jacob to demonstrate that the promise relies on the faithfulness of God, not the striving of humanity. Jesus is our true Firstborn, and the beautiful scandal of the Gospel is that he freely shares his birthright with us—no scheming or stew required.

We live in a world that tells us we only get what we earn, what we hustle for, and what we deserve. We become like the rocky soil and thorny ground Jesus talks about in Matthew 13—choked by the cares of the world, hardened by our attempts to survive.

But into this exhausted, grasping world steps the Sower. This story shows us that we serve a God who reaches out with love to each and every human in creation. All those created in His image are invited back into his image. Today’s passage from the Gospels shows the ridiculously reckless, extravagantly reaching generosity of God.

Matthew 13:1-9,18-23

THE PARABLE OF THE SOWER

1 On that day Jesus went out of the house and was sitting by the sea. 2 Such large crowds gathered around him that he got into a boat and sat down, while the whole crowd stood on the shore.

3 Then he told them many things in parables, saying, “Consider the sower who went out to sow. 4 As he sowed, some seed fell along the path, and the birds came and devoured them. 5 Other seed fell on rocky ground where it didn’t have much soil, and it grew up quickly since the soil wasn’t deep. 6 But when the sun came up, it was scorched, and since it had no root, it withered away. 7 Other seed fell among thorns, and the thorns came up and choked it. 8 Still other seed fell on good ground and produced fruit: some a hundred, some sixty, and some thirty times what was sown. 9 Let anyone who has ears listen.”

THE PARABLE OF THE SOWER EXPLAINED

18 “So listen to the parable of the sower: 19 When anyone hears the word about the kingdom and doesn’t understand it, the evil one comes and snatches away what was sown in his heart. This is the one sown along the path. 20 And the one sown on rocky ground—this is one who hears the word and immediately receives it with joy. 21 But he has no root and is short-lived. When distress or persecution comes because of the word, immediately he falls away. 22 Now the one sown among the thorns—this is one who hears the word, but the worries of this age and the deceitfulness of wealth choke the word, and it becomes unfruitful. 23 But the one sown on the good ground—this is one who hears and understands the word, who does produce fruit and yields: some a hundred, some sixty, some thirty times what was sown.”

In 1st-century Palestine, a farmer lived on the edge of starvation. Seed was precious. You did not waste it. In their desert world, you didn’t plant seed in sand, thorns or rocky areas. First, you carefully ploughed the good soil. Then you intentionally planted the seed exactly where it would grow. Yet, in Jesus’ parable, the Sower is incredibly, almost foolishly, reckless. He throws seed on the hard path, on the rocky ground, and among thorns.

This parable has been used as a guilt trip: “You need to be good soil!” But if we look at it through the lens of Christ, the focus shifts entirely to the Sower. The Father’s grace is indiscriminate. He flings the life of the Kingdom into every corner of human existence — even the hard, stony, and thorny places. Furthermore, Jesus himself is the Seed that falls into the earth and dies to bear much fruit, and he is the Good Soil that perfectly receives the Father’s word on our behalf. We don’t have to manufacture our own good soil; we rest in the Sower whose grace gives good ground to us.

This is Grace at its heart: The Father’s love is not stingy. He does not wait for you to clean up your act, plough your heart, and become perfect, moral “good soil” before He loves you. Instead, while you are desperate and searching, he flings the grace of Jesus Christ into every messy, dysfunctional corner of your life in the hope that it will stick somewhere.

Think about the Psalmist in Psalm 119 crying out, “Your word is a lamp to my feet.” David is walking in the dark, clutching his life in his own hands, desperate for guidance.

Psalm 119:105-112

105 Your word is a lamp for my feet

and a light on my path.

106 I have solemnly sworn

to keep your righteous judgments.

107 I am severely afflicted;

Lord, give me life according to your word.

108 Lord, please accept my freewill offerings of praise,

and teach me your judgments.

109 My life is constantly in danger,

yet I do not forget your instruction.

110 The wicked have set a trap for me,

but I have not wandered from your precepts.

111 I have your decrees as a heritage forever;

indeed, they are the joy of my heart.

112 I am resolved to obey your statutes

to the very end.

In the Ancient Near East, where night meant absolute darkness, a foot-lamp didn’t illuminate a mile down the road; it only provided enough light for the very next step.

Through an incarnational lens, we see more than the Torah in this “lamp for my feet”; we see Jesus. In John 1, Jesus is called the Word made flesh. As believers, we are not merely following a static set of rules; we are following a Person. When the Psalmist declares, “My life is constantly in danger, yet I do not forget your instruction,” we see the human struggle of trying to control our own destiny, met by the comforting reality of Christ’s presence. Jesus is the true Lamp. He doesn’t give us a map of the next ten years to satisfy our anxiety; he gives us himself for the next step, inviting us to trust his illuminating presence in the dark.

Jesus is that Word made flesh. He is the lamp walking with us in the dark. He is the Sower stepping into the thorns of our Jacob-like striving and our Esau-like failures, saying, “I am here. I am with you.”

This is why Paul can stand up in Romans 8 and declare the most liberating truth in the universe: “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.”

This is our reading from the epistles for today: Romans 8:1-11. What you will hear in this passage is that if you are in Jesus, you have life and grace because the Holy Spirit lives within you. Because of this, you do not need to fear condemnation or judgment.

Read Romans 8:1-11

1 Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those in Christ Jesus, 2 because the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has set you free from the law of sin and death. 3 For what the law could not do since it was weakened by the flesh, God did. He condemned sin in the flesh by sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh as a sin offering, 4 in order that the law’s requirement would be fulfilled in us who do not walk according to the flesh but according to the Spirit. 5 For those who live according to the flesh have their minds set on the things of the flesh, but those who live according to the Spirit have their minds set on the things of the Spirit. 6 Now the mindset of the flesh is death, but the mindset of the Spirit is life and peace. 7 The mindset of the flesh is hostile to God because it does not submit to God’s law. Indeed, it is unable to do so. 8 Those who are in the flesh cannot please God. 9 You, however, are not in the flesh, but in the Spirit, if indeed the Spirit of God lives in you. If anyone does not have the Spirit of Christ, he does not belong to him. 10 Now if Christ is in you, the body is dead because of sin, but the Spirit gives life because of righteousness. 11 And if the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead lives in you, then he who raised Christ from the dead will also bring your mortal bodies to life through his Spirit who lives in you.

Paul writes to a Roman church deeply divided between Jewish and Gentile believers, all exhausted by trying to justify themselves. Like a Hip Hop battle rapper, Paul wordcrafts a game changer. Hear it, and it will change your world: “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.”

Notice the phrasing: in Christ Jesus. This is it! Jesus is all! Jesus assumed our broken humanity, took it to the cross, and brought it through the resurrection. Condemnation has been exhausted. Paul contrasts the “flesh” (our futile attempts to secure our own life and worth) with the “Spirit” (the shared life of the Father and Son now freely given to us). Paul is not telling the Romans to “try harder” to be spiritual. He is telling them to wake up to reality: the Spirit of the Father who raised Jesus from the dead already dwells in you. Our Christian life is simply participating in the love that the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit have shared for all eternity.

Paul isn’t giving us a new law. He is giving us a new reality. He says the law of the Spirit of life has set you free from the law of sin and death. What Jacob tried to steal, Jesus freely gives. What Esau threw away, Jesus permanently secures. Jesus is the true Firstborn, and He has shared his birthright with you. Jesus is the true Good Soil, who perfectly received the Father’s love on behalf of all humanity.

Because of the Incarnation, you are included in Christ. The same Spirit that raised Jesus from the dead now dwells in you. You don’t have to grasp the heel of the person in front of you anymore. You don’t have to trade your soul for a bowl of temporary comfort. You can rest.

The Sower has planted his life in you. Let the Spirit water it, and watch what beautiful things God will grow.

Amen.