Monday, 20 July 2026

SERMON 237 - SUNDAY 19 JULY 2026 - TRINITY 7 / RURAL COMMUNITIES CELEBRATION

 Sermon at All Saints’s Church Parish Church, Whiteparish – 7th Sunday after Trinity – Sunday 19th July 2026

Ruth 2:4-12;  Matthew 5:14-16,

May I speak in the Name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit and may these words of yours be a joy and blessing to all who hear them. Amen

[This Sermon is split into to 2 short homilies or reflections – one on each of the readings as part of the Celebration of Rural Community Sunday in praise of all those who provide a Christian presence in the village of Whiteparish].

Ruth 2:4-12

This passage from the wonderful Old Testament story of Ruth was chosen specifically for today’s service because it has a rural theme and beautifully illustrates a healthy rural community.  It is particularly appropriate as we are now, here in rural Wiltshire, in the middle of an early harvest with the air full of the dust from the combine harvesters as they gather up the cereal grains.  We can so easily, therefore, take ourselves back to those days described in the Old Testament passage in rural Bethlehem at the beginning of the barley harvest.

However, first, a quick reminder of where this passage fits in with the whole story of Ruth. Naomi, together with her husband and two sons living in Bethlehem, had left that rural town a number of years earlier, when the land was struck with a terrible famine, and went to Moab.  Whilst there, her two sons married Moabite women but both the sons and her husband died there in Moab.  Naomi decided to return to her homeland and home town of Bethlehem taking with her, one of her Moabite daughters-in-law, Ruth (the other daughter-in-law stayed in Moab).  Ruth, not being a Jew, was therefore an alien, a foreigner, a stranger back in Bethlehem.

We learn that Naomi had a kinsman, Boaz, in Bethlehem who took pity and compassion on her and Ruth and gave strict instructions to his workers to let the women glean from his field and not to molest the women – giving them opportunity not only to glean barley for their own needs but a bit extra to sell and have a comfortable lifestyle whilst under his protection.  As we know, later on, Boaz married Ruth, had children and in due course their descendants were Kind David and through Joseph, Jesus.

The moral for us today is that we should notice vulnerable newcomers into our community and make them feel welcome. Recently, for example, I know that here, and in several other villages in our Deanery, we have welcomed many Ukrainian families to share with us in our homes, meals and churches. You have shown true Christian hospitality.  It also reminds us to care for and protect others behind the scenes who work untiringly and often “unsung” to provide that welcome and protection.  The story of Ruth is a lesson and a blessing to all, especially in these smaller communities, and I heartily recommend you read the whole book – it’s only 4 chapters! There are so many examples of humility, love and compassion to be found there.

 

Matthew 5:14-16

Following on from my short homily on Ruth, our gospel reading this morning takes the theme of goodness and hospitality further. In this passage, which is part of His great Sermon on the Mount, Jesus is telling the Crowds attending that as followers of Him they are “the light of the world”.  This pronouncement is coupled, in the same section of the Sermon as his proclamation that they are also “salt of the earth” meaning, in metaphor, that they give taste to an otherwise bland and tasteless world.

This reading, therefore, directly underpins the theme of our previous two readings reminding us that small, local acts of goodness, such as hospitality and friendliness towards others, especially those who are different from ourselves, have an immense, illuminating impact on rural life.

When I first thought of moving into the rural environment of Winterslow in 1999, after living in Brighton, London, Liverpool and being brought up in a large northern town, I was struck by the wonderful friendliness of those in the village and especially in the church – so much so that I still live in rural Wiltshire some 27 years on and have no intention of leaving.  I have experienced much salt and light from those church communities here in our Deanery.

I would like to share one thought, though, which I had, when I first read those words in Jesus’s sermon – how do we actually shine that light out?  What is it that we must do? At the time I first came to Wiltshire my own life was in a state of brokenness and change; and during my time here there have been many occasions when I have felt broken and not able to shine out any light.

Then I went to the Christian conference (Spring Harvest) where this topic was discussed. It was as though Jesus himself was talking to me. From memory the speaker was Jeff Lucas, who wrote a wonderful book entitled “There are no Strong People” who reminded us that most of us, especially Christians, are broken or, as he put it, we are like “cracked pots” – not “crack pots” I hastened to add although sometimes I’m not so sure. But, if we have the light of Christ within us, if we have what Jesus called the light of the world then even though we feel unworthy or unholy or whatever, that light will still shine through those cracks and sometimes, because we are cracked, the light will shine through those narrow cracks with even more intensity. By following Jesus we can shine that light by the way we act, speak and treat others in our community and the world at large.

 

Amen                                                                                                MFB/237/16072026

Monday, 13 July 2026

SERMON 236 - SUNDAY 12 JULY 2026 - TRINITY 6

 Sermon at St. Mary’s Church Parish Church, West Dean – 6th Sunday after Trinity – Sunday 12th July 2026

Isaiah 55:10-13; Romans 8:1-11; Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23

May I speak in the Name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit and may these words of yours be a joy and blessing to all who hear them. Amen

I was delighted when I realised that the Gospel Reading today was one which Liz and I have recently finished studying, at some great length, in our local house group.  The in-depth study which we did led me to realise there was so much more to this parable, which I have heard so many times before, going back as far as school assemblies in the 1960s!  Today, I can only really scratch the surface of some of the revelations which I discovered during our study but will try and do so, as much as I can, in the short time available this morning. The biggest revelation for me was that there was never any question of the seed that is being sown in the parable being bad, only the way in which it is received.  For Liz, one of the revelations was that we needed to buy a second composter!

Joking aside, the three readings today give us one beautiful image: God is always sowing life. He is never stingy with his grace. Like the rain in Isaiah, like the Spirit in Romans, like the Sower in the Gospel, God keeps giving, keeps calling, keeps planting, even when the results seem uncertain.

Isaiah tells us that just as rain and snow fall upon the earth and do not return without making it fruitful, so God's word never returns to him empty. It always accomplishes his purpose. Sometimes we expect God's word to work instantly, but God often works quietly, patiently, beneath the surface. Seeds take time to germinate, and so too does Faith. Often, we use the phrase “Rome wasn’t built in a day”; it grew over a period of time and so too does our Faith.  In fact, it never stops growing. Just as my studies in astronomy often lead me to more questions than answers about the cosmos, so too does our study of scripture.

But, back to the Sower.  In our Gospel message, he scatters seed everywhere. From a human perspective, it almost seems wasteful. Seed falls on the path, among rocks, into thorns, and only some on good soil. But this is precisely how God loves. He does not ration his grace to those who seem most deserving. He offers his word to everyone.

Earlier I stated, quite categorically, that the seed being sown in the parable was not bad. But, how do we know whether the seed is good seed? 

The answer is surprisingly simple. The seed in the parable is the Word of God, and God's word always bears the marks of its divine origin. Good seed draws us toward Christ. It deepens faith, awakens hope, and enlarges love. It leads to forgiveness rather than resentment, humility rather than pride, generosity rather than selfishness. Good seed may challenge us, even unsettle us, but it never leads us away from God or diminishes the dignity of others. As Paul reminds us in Romans, the Spirit gives life and peace. If what we receive draws us toward the life of the Spirit, we can trust that it is good seed.  Anything in our lives, any seeds which are sown which do not produce these characteristics is bad seed, or weeds, which Jesus deals with in another parable.  We should, therefore, always be on our guard against those people and institutions which would seek to sow weeds into our lives. We need to pray for discernment.

But perhaps the more searching question is: How do we know whether we are good soil?

The parable is not about labelling ourselves once and for all, as I once thought. The condition of the soil can change. A hardened path can be broken open. Rocky ground can be cleared. Thorns can be pulled out. Good soil is not perfect soil; it is receptive soil.

We become good soil when we are willing to listen. Jesus ends the parable by saying, "Let anyone with ears listen." Listening is more than hearing. It means allowing God's word to sink beneath the surface of our lives. It means praying with Scripture instead of merely reading it. It means letting God's word question us before we question it.  How is our spiritual life? What areas of our life are susceptible to weeds, or stones, or dryness? What do we need to do to prepare the ground.  Do we need a new composter?

Good soil is also honest soil. We need to recognize the rocks that prevent deep roots—old wounds, fears, pride, or habits that keep us from trusting God. We identify the thorns that choke growth—the anxieties, distractions, ambitions, and endless busyness that crowd out prayer and charity. Every examination of conscience is, in a sense, an examination of the soil.

This is where Paul's words in Romans become such good news. Left to ourselves, we cannot make ourselves fruitful. But "the Spirit of God dwells in you." The same Spirit who raised Jesus from the dead is at work within us, cultivating the soil of our hearts. Christianity is not simply about trying harder; it is about allowing the Holy Spirit to transform us from within.

That is why the readings this morning fit together so beautifully. Isaiah reminds us that God's word is effective. The Gospel tells us that God's word is generously sown. Romans tells us that God's Spirit enables us to receive that word and bear fruit.

Perhaps the greatest comfort in this parable is that Jesus never tells us to judge someone else's soil. He invites each of us to tend our own heart. Every day, God scatters fresh seed. Every day, the Spirit can soften what has become hard, remove what has become crowded, and deepen what has become shallow.

The measure of good soil is not how impressive we appear, but whether God's word is producing fruit in us: greater patience, deeper compassion, stronger faith, more generous love, and a growing resemblance to Christ.

May we ask today for two graces: the wisdom to recognize the good seed that God continually sows through his Word, the sacraments, and the witness of faithful people; and the humility to let the Holy Spirit prepare our hearts to receive it.

Then Isaiah's promise will become our own: the word God plants within us will not return empty, but will bear fruit—thirty, sixty, and a hundredfold—for the life of the world.

 

 

Amen                                                                                           MFB/236/10072026