Sunday Musings

PASS THE MUSTARD!

7/26/2026

Sunday, July 26, 2026
First Congregational Church of Cheshire
© the Rev. Dr. James Campbell

Matthew 13:31-33, 44-52

He put before them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed that someone took and sowed in his field; it is the smallest of all the seeds, but when it has grown it is the greatest of shrubs and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and make nests in its branches.” He told them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like yeast that a woman took and mixed in with three measures of flour until all of it was leavened.”

“The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which someone found and hid; then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field. “Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls; on finding one pearl of great value, he went and sold all that he had and bought it. “Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a net that was thrown into the sea and caught fish of every kind; when it was full, they drew it ashore, sat down, and put the good into baskets but threw out the bad. So it will be at the end of the age. The angels will come out and separate the evil from the righteous and throw them into the furnace of fire, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. “Have you understood all this?” They answered, “Yes.” And he said to them, “Therefore every scribe who has been trained for the kingdom of heaven is like the master of a household who brings out of his treasure what is new and what is old.”

When I was a boy, we lived in a parsonage that had a very long sidewalk that led from the back door all the way out to the alley, where the trash cans were kept.  One of my jobs was to take out the trash and to burn it. You could do that in those days.  And since most little boys are budding pyromaniacs anyway, I loved that job, especially when there were cardboard boxes to be consumed.

But I had another chore that also involved that long sidewalk.  And that job I hated. The sidewalk was raised very high off the ground and the lawnmower couldn’t get close to the edge, so of course, that’s where the weeds grew.  And it was my job to get rid of the weeds – all the weeds, on both sides of that very long sidewalk. We didn’t have a weed whacker, but we did have my two hands.  But no matter how many weeds I pulled, they always came back.  And that was when I first learned to hate weeds.

I have a kinder, gentler attitude towards weeds now.  And at this point in my life, I would concur with the great 19th century American philosopher, Ralph Waldo Emerson, who once said that a weed is “a plant whose virtues have yet to be discovered.”

But even so, I still would never make it my business to plant weeds.  But Jesus said that the Kingdom of God can be compared to someone who planted weeds on purpose.

He put it like this: “The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed that someone took and sowed in her field; it is the smallest of all the seeds, but when it has grown it is the greatest of shrubs and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and make nests in its branches."

Now we might think of mustard as something to be cultivated.  But first century Middle Eastern people thought of it as a weed – and an invasive species at that. The Roman naturalist, Pliny the Elder, who was alive during the time of Jesus, wrote: “Mustard grows entirely wild… when it has… been sown it is scarcely possible to get the place free of it, as the seed when it falls germinates at once.”

And that’s the problem with weeds.  They multiply, sometimes wildly.  And mustard seeds are tiny and easily carried by the wind.  So, you always had to be on the lookout for the sprouts.  But Jesus said: “The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed that someone took and (purposefully) planted in her field…”  Which begs the question: why would anyone import that invasive chaos?

Well, it was an absurd idea to a first century crowd who knew something about agriculture and even more about the Law of Moses that required the separation of different kinds of plants.  So, when Jesus said there once was a farmer who planted mustard in her fields, eyebrows shot up and a murmur rippled through the crowd.  “What did he say?!”

And if that statement were not enough to electrify them all, Jesus introduced birds to the story: squawking, ravenous birds.  Now if you’ve ever planted a garden, you know what birds can do to all your glistening vegetables and glorious flowers.  And they’re not just occasionally annoying.  In the Bible, birds are often metaphors for unclean people: Gentiles and sinners and outsiders – the very folks you want to keep away from your garden.  But Jesus said that the Reign of Heaven is full of birds.  --And when he said that, a gasp went up in the crowd.

And if we were completely honest, we might allow ourselves to gasp too.  Most folks are fonder of order and the separation of kinds than we let on.  And we live in a time when some people want there to be even more separation of kinds.  But Jesus said that God’s dream for the world is wild and weedy. God’s dream of a perfect community is one filled with colorful people who squawk and flap and eat too much. And according to Jesus, there is profound beauty in the chaos of God’s weedy and bird-filled garden, if only we have the eyes to see it.

Some years ago, I was in my church office when I was told I had a phone call from a former parishioner named Barbara.  Now typically, this would delight me, but to tell you the truth, this was one parishioner I really didn’t want to talk to.  You see, she was calling from that parish where I had served as an Associate Minister and from which I left the professional ministry for ten years.

But that was all behind me now.  And I had gotten on with the business of planting a new garden, in a new parish.  And I had worked very hard on leaving all that pain behind me – or so I thought.

When I was told who was waiting to speak to me, I thought I handled it very well.  First, I cursed, and then I took the call.

It turned out that the congregation was compiling its history and they wanted to know where I was currently serving and to remind them about my education, etc.  After some polite, strained, and orderly chitchat, Barbara gave me her email address and I promised to respond with all the requested information.  As is my want, I replied right away to get it off my plate but mostly so that I would not have to think about her or them anymore.

A few hours later, a new email arrived in my inbox.  It was from Barbara.  “Oh God,” I sighed and then I took a deep breath and I opened it.  She thanked me for responding so quickly.  Then she ran through a list of people who had sent their love to me through her.  And then she closed with the absolutely shocking salutation: “Love, Barbara.”  Now I would have been tempted to simply dismiss that sentiment had it not been for her peculiar post-script.  “PS,” she wrote, “Lucky Broadway United Church of Christ.”

And this took me by complete surprise, because quite frankly, I had always thought of Barbara as being particularly happy to see me go, eager to plow my messy garden under and restore order just as soon as I was out of town.

But apparently, mustard seeds are heartier than that.  They are not so easily disturbed by the plows of cruelty or injustice or neglect.  They thrive under a burning sun, even when completely ignored.  And somehow, during the time I served that church, however imperfectly I did, something I said or did planted a seed.  And that seed grew a weed.  And that weed became a tree.  And wonder of wonders, somehow Barbara had found rest in its shade.

But more than that, now Barbara was planting a seed of her own, with her words of reconciliation and peace, that challenged my ability to continue to dismiss her and to allow bitterness to grow in my heart.

Barbara planted a seed.  And all these many years later, right here in Cheshire, CT, this old bird continues rests in its shade – a shade I didn’t even know I needed.

Thanks be to God.

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ANOTHER SEEDY PARABLE

7/19/2026

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Sunday, July 19, 2026
First Congregational Church of Cheshire
© the Rev. Dr. James Campbell

Matthew 13:24-30

He put before them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to someone who sowed good seed in his field, but while everybody was asleep an enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat and then went away. So when the plants came up and bore grain, then the weeds appeared as well. And the slaves of the householder came and said to him, ‘Master, did you not sow good seed in your field? Where, then, did these weeds come from?’ He answered, ‘An enemy has done this.’ The slaves said to him, ‘Then do you want us to go and gather them?’ But he replied, ‘No, for in gathering the weeds you would uproot the wheat along with them. Let both of them grow together until the harvest, and at harvest time I will tell the reapers, Collect the weeds first and bind them in bundles to be burned, but gather the wheat into my barn.’”

Here are some wise sayings that didn’t make it into the Bible, even though lots of folks think they did.  Are you ready?  Number one: “Waste not, want not!”  Nope, as wise and as New England as that might be, it is not in the Bible.  Number two: “The Lord helps those who help themselves.”  Once again, no!  Not in the Bible.  And finally, number three and my personal favorite: “A place for everything and everything in its place.”  Again, not in the Bible, but this one really should be!  Because, it seems to me, that is the only way to live.  Or, at least, that is the way I like to live.  I want to go to a drawer knowing exactly what I will find inside.  I like to go to the shed knowing where I left my pruning shears.  I like things to be done, in the words of St. Paul, “decently and in order.”  And if I had my way, that’s the way the whole world would work.

But I don’t have my way and that is not the way the world works.  There is not a place for everything (and everyone) and everything is certainly not in its place.  That is the nature of our life on this planet.  But then, unfortunately, there are those who seek to make it worse.  There are people who delight in being what I call “chaos agents.”  And many of them are quite good at it.  They sow seeds of confusion in order to manipulate others.  They say that up is down and down is up just to get their way when no one is looking.  Their work is purposeful, insidious, and very effective.  And it’s a game as old as time.

Jesus said that the Kingdom of God is like a farmer who went into his field and planted some wheat.  And the day was hot and the work was long and backs were sore.  And when it was all over and night fell, the farmer likewise fell into a very deep sleep.  And so did all the exhausted household servants who had been in the fields with him.  In fact, they all slept so deeply that they didn’t hear the creak of the garden gate as the chaos agents invaded their fields.

Those trespassers were there for one reason and one reason only: to sow chaos.  And they worked all night at planting something called ‘bearded darnel” or in the King James Version of the Bible, “tares” – thus, the Parable of the Wheat and the Tares.

Bearded darnel is insidious and invasive.  Its roots surround the roots of the good plants and suck up the precious nutrients and the scarce water needed for the crops.  And because the roots of the tares entangle themselves with the roots of the good plants, it is impossible to remove the tares without also damaging the wheat.

And even if you could untangle the roots, it would be hard to know where to even begin, because bearded darnel looks identical to wheat, until, harvest time.  That’s when its true colors show.  You see, the seeds of the tares look different.  And the seeds of the tares are poisonous.  They can cause everything from hallucinations to death.  And that makes them the worst kind of imposters - pretending to be something good so that they can wreak havoc.

So, this was an act of eco-terrorism.  It was an agricultural disaster.  It was meant to bring on economic ruin and suffering.  And so, the good-hearted and eager servants – people just like us - wanted to go into the fields immediately and uproot the bad plants.  They wanted to put everything back the way it should be.  They wanted balance and order.  That’s what I want.  A place for everything and everything in its place.

But separating the good from the bad is never quite as easy as we imagine.  And the wise farmer understood that.  He knew that sometimes you just have to let things play before you can know what your next steps ought to be.

And so, the farmer said: Let the wheat and the tares grow together until harvest time; until it is clear what we are dealing with.  And then my farm hands can actually see what seed has been produced and can judge rightly about what should be burned and what should be saved.

In the end, this is a story about evil.  And I don’t really like preaching about evil.  In fact, I don’t even like to think about it.  But apparently, Jesus does not share my squeamishness.  Jesus said that evil is real and insidious, organized and dangerous.  And if I’m honest, I know that to be true.  I’ve lived long enough to see that some people do truly awful things to others.  And some people seem to delight in causing that harm.  And while I endeavor to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, and while I know that people are very complicated, I am no longer sure that every act of cruelty, vengeance, avarice, and violence can always be chalked up to poor socialization or mental illness.

Maybe that is why Jesus taught us to pray: “Deliver us from evil.”

So, then, what are we to do when evil rears its ugly head?  How are we supposed to respond when it springs up in the fields of the world?

Well, my own instinct is to run into that field and chop it down, pull it out, roots and all.  That’s exactly what the servants in the parable wanted to do.  That is often what society wants to do.  But the Farmer knew the potential for overreach.  The Farmer knew the great damage that can be done by overzealous reformers.  The Farmer knew that in the desire to purge evil, sometimes more evil can be born.  As the great preacher Barbara Brown Taylor once said of this parable: “Turn us loose with a machete and there is no telling what we will chop down and what we will spare.”

And don’t we know it.  The history of our race is full of machete-wielding zealots, who often start out with good intentions, only to become chaos agents themselves as they destroy goodness in the process.

But according to this parable, there is but one wise and good Farmer.  And this Farmer, otherwise known as God, knows how to deal with the tares.  And while we are indeed called to go into the fields of the world and plant goodness and to bring in the sheaves, we do that only at the Farmer’s direction and in the Farmer’s good time.  Otherwise, relying on our own instincts alone, we risk becoming what we hate.  We risk uprooting the good trying to do away with the bad.

So, that’s one way to read this parable.  But here is another: Maybe this isn’t a story about the whole world.  Maybe it’s about us.  Maybe our hearts are the fields of the Lord.  And maybe we are the ones who have toiled and tried our best to only plant the good seeds of compassion and mercy and peace.  But despite our best efforts, sometimes wild, invasive things appear, like bitterness and envy, anger and hatred, selfishness and greed.  We don’t even know how those seeds got there!  And, once they sprout, all we want is to get them out by any means necessary; to chop them all down.  But as Barbara Brown Taylor said: “Turn us loose with a machete and there is no telling what we will chop down and what we will spare.”

That is exactly why we the wisdom of the Farmer.  We need the patience of the Farmer.  We need the kind and skilled hands of the One who knows how bring the good out of us; out of our enemies; out of the whole world - and to finally burn away all that which destroys and poisons the beautiful fields of the Lord.

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THE PARABLE OF THE SLOPPY FARMER

7/12/2026

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Sunday, July 12, 2026
First Congregational Church of Cheshire
© the Rev. Dr. James Campbell

Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23

That same day Jesus went out of the house and sat beside the sea. Such great crowds gathered around him that he got into a boat and sat there, while the whole crowd stood on the beach. And he told them many things in parables, saying: “Listen! A sower went out to sow. And as he sowed, some seeds fell on the path, and the birds came and ate them up. Other seeds fell on rocky ground, where they did not have much soil, and they sprang up quickly, since they had no depth of soil. But when the sun rose, they were scorched; and since they had no root, they withered away. Other seeds fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked them. Other seeds fell on good soil and brought forth grain, some a hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty. Let anyone with ears listen!” “Hear then the parable of the sower. When anyone hears the word of the kingdom and does not understand it, the evil one comes and snatches away what is sown in the heart; this is what was sown on the path. As for what was sown on rocky ground, this is the one who hears the word and immediately receives it with joy; yet such a person has no root, but endures only for a while, and when trouble or persecution arises on account of the word, that person immediately falls away. As for what was sown among thorns, this is the one who hears the word, but the cares of the world and the lure of wealth choke the word, and it yields nothing. But as for what was sown on good soil, this is the one who hears the word and understands it, who indeed bears fruit and yields, in one case a hundredfold, in another sixty, and in another thirty.”

What did you want to be when you grew up?  What was your dream profession?  And did any of you actually do it?

Well, in addition to my own childhood dreams of wanting to be a doctor or a lawyer or a journalist or a professor, I also really wanted to own a greenhouse.  And long before I ever moved to Manhattan, I dreamed of a place like Cheshire where people would buy my plants and seek my advice and create beauty in their own little corner of the world.

It was a perfectly natural dream for me because as a kid, I always seemed to have my hands in the dirt - whether it was by force in my mother’s garden or whether it was in the seedlings I planted and nurtured as a young boy.  Some of my most vivid childhood memories are directly connected to the earth. I remember eating blackberries fresh from the brambles and still warm from the sun.  I remember the peppery goodness of a radish pulled from the ground and washed under a garden hose.

But these experiences are not unique. me.  We humans are part and parcel of the earth – made from the earth, one with the earth.  And perhaps that is part of the reason why the parables of Jesus continue to speak to us.  We can all relate to his agrarian images -– even if our idea of a plentiful harvest is the produce section at Whole Foods.

“Once upon a time,” Jesus said, “there was a farmer who went out to plant seeds.  But some of those seeds fell on the garden path.  And the hungry birds, who are always watching, swooped down and gobbled them up.  -- Some other seeds fell on rocky New England-type soil and quickly sprang to life.  But the rocks kept their roots from going deep, and when the hot sun came out, they quickly withered and died.  -- Still others of those seeds fell among the thorns and the weeds.  And we all know how strong weeds can be.  And they chocked out the crop.  -- But some of those seeds actually hit the mark and fell on good soil.  And those seeds took root and grew.  And they didn’t just grow – they went crazy, like they had been doused with Miracle Grow, and produced 30, 60 and even 100 times more than usual.

We call this story the “Parable of the Sower.”  But after hearing about all those seeds being scattered hither and yon, perhaps a more accurate description might be the “Parable of the Sloppy Farmer.”

But here’s the thing: that’s the way they farmed back in Jesus’s day.  The farmer would walk into a field, grab a handful of seeds from the bag he carried, and throw them into the air on a windy day.  The wind would pick up the seeds and scatter them.  And then the farmer would plow, after the seeds were already on the ground.  Some of the seeds found good soil and some didn’t.  And isn’t that what life is like, Jesus said.  Isn’t that what the Kingdom of God is like?

So, what are we to make of this Parable of the Sloppy Farmer?  Well, one way to interpret this parable is to simply use Matthew’s interpretation.  Matthew says that the seeds on the garden path, so quickly eaten by the birds, are like people who receive God’s word, but then the Evil One comes and snatches it away before it can do any good. And the seeds on the rocky ground are those folks who receive the good news with joy but then learn that the Christian life requires sacrifice and service.  And that’s not what they thought they were signing up for in a New Member Class.  And the seeds that fell among the thorns are those people whose spiritual lives get choked off by the love of money and the cares of the material world.  But the seeds on the good ground represent those who hear the Gospel and let it produce a harvest of abundant goodness.

Using this interpretation, it’s very easy to divide humans into different categories of receptiveness, and then to judge others and ourselves accordingly.   But as far as I can tell, the world is already too full of quick judgments and bellicose pronouncements about who is good and who is not.  And besides that, I know that I am only good soil some of the time.  The seed of the Gospel only sinks so far into my rocky heart some of the time.  And there have been plenty of times when the seed has been snatched away by my own self-interest.  And as for sacrifice, well I don’t like sacrifice any more than the next person.  I want to be good soil.  I try to be good soil.  But I only am good soil some of the time.

I don’t think Jesus was dividing people into rigid immutable categories here.  I just think Jesus was just describing me on four different days.

Well, that’s an interpretation with the emphasis on the soil.  But we could also read this parable with an emphasis on the sloppy farmer.  What does it say about God that God has never seen fit to improve her farming methods?  What does it say about God that there are just seeds flying everywhere!

The Creator walks around the fields of our lives filled, with the stones of our grudges and the weeds of our regrets - and just throws seeds everywhere, hoping for any chance that they will take root.  With abandon, God tosses seeds of justice, mercy, and healing high into the air, while the Spirit blows them in all directions.  And God does this again and again even though God knows that most of it will not find root.  But some of it will.  And apparently, God thinks it’s worth it.

But we could take that emphasis on the sloppy farmer even further.  This interpretation is a little out there, a little edgy, but I think it I think it has wings.  And it is simply this: maybe God is not the farmer at all in this story.  Maybe we are.

Now, in case you haven’t noticed, churches are very methodical places – especially New England Congregational churches!  We are obsessed with planning and methodology and verifiable results.  We never have more animated discussions in this church than the ones about budgets and bottom lines and membership trends.

But here’s a newsflash: while the modern church might indeed be a business, the Gospel of Jesus most definitely is not.  And maybe our obsession with planting such straight rows is not the most faithful way to farm.  Maybe this church’s job is to throw as many seeds into the air as we can and leave the rest to God.

Now, I am not talking about wasting the church’s money or resources.  But I am talking about a joyful extravagance when it comes to kindness and justice and mercy and acceptance and hospitality and grace and peace.  We must never be stingy with those seeds.  We ought to be emptying our seed bags as fast as we can go, handful after handful scattered to the four corners.

Because there is no such things as a diminishing return in the Reign of God.  You never run out of seeds in the Reign of God.  Every time we reach into the bag for more justice and love and mercy, there is always more.  And just about the time your arm gets tired and you think that all of this is a waste of time, suddenly a patch of green appears.  And a life is changed.  And hope blooms.  And there is human flourishing.

And sometimes the humans that flourish are us.  Because in the wild, windy fields of the Lord, some of that seed we so generously scatter, will fall back on us.  And find root.  For as Jesus once said, “You reap what you sow.”

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PASS THE MUSTARD!

ANOTHER SEEDY PARABLE

THE PARABLE OF THE SLOPPY FARMER

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PASS THE MUSTARD!

​ANOTHER SEEDY PARABLE

THE PARABLE OF THE SLOPPY FARMER

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ANOTHER SEEDY PARABLE