A Harvest of Grace

This sermon was preached on July 12, 2026, at Beechmont Presbyterian Church on Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23.

Good Soil

This is not the first time I’ve preached on this parable. It appears in Matthew, Mark, and Luke, and I believe I’ve preached on each version at one time or another. Still, the parable calls to me once again because it remains something of a mystery. I grew up in the city, and despite several attempts to grow my own vegetables and fruit, I’ve never been very good at it.

Yet I grew up surrounded by people who made it look effortless. I loved stepping outside my grandparents’ house in Puerto Rico and exploring their land, looking for bananas, oranges, grapefruits, breadfruit, Puerto Rican cherries, bitter melons, and all kinds of tropical fruit. The ones that always scared me were the soursops. It wasn’t just that I didn’t like their taste. If you were walking beneath the trees and one suddenly fell, you’d jump right out of your skin. Maybe that’s why I’m such a scaredy-cat.

I never saw my grandparents prepare the soil for those trees. I knew they went out every day to pick the fruit and water the trees, but that was about all I ever noticed. I never saw them playing music for the trees. I never saw them buying fertilizer or doing anything special. Things simply grew there. I suppose they had good soil, just like the soil Jesus describes in this passage.

For Matthew Is All About the Soil

Thomas Long, in his book Proclaiming the Parables, says that Matthew’s focus is different from Mark’s. Mark’s version is about the adventures of the sower, but Matthew’s is about the adventures of the soils. So the question Matthew invites us to ask is, What kind of soil am I?

Matthew is interested in how we receive the Word. He wants us to notice how we are receiving Jesus and his teaching. Long writes:

“Are we good soil, that is, wise students who hear Jesus’ words and do them, or bad soil, that is, foolish students who are closed to his teaching?”

What do we, as soil, do with what God is trying to grow?

In our Reformed understanding, the Sower scatters God’s Word, the Spirit grows faith, and faith bears the fruit of a new way of living.

Many strands of Christianity define faith as believing difficult things. They tell us that faith means certainty, and that a fruitful faith never doubts.

But there is another way to understand faith.

I was reading Shirley C. Guthrie, who reminds us that faith is something much richer. Faith is trusting God.

Guthrie says that faith is trust, not mere belief. It is not simply agreeing that God exists or accepting a list of doctrines. Even accurate theological knowledge is not faith unless it leads us to trust God with our lives.

Faith is God’s gift before it is our achievement. We do not manufacture it through willpower. The Holy Spirit awakens it and sustains it.

Faith is personal commitment. To have faith is to entrust ourselves to Jesus Christ—to rely on God’s grace rather than on our own goodness, certainty, or accomplishments.

Faith always bears fruit in action. Genuine faith changes the way we live. It leads to obedience, love of neighbor, justice, hope, and participation in God’s work in the world. Faith that remains only an intellectual exercise is incomplete.

And faith lives with questions. Guthrie, following the Reformed tradition, reminds us that faith is not the absence of doubt. Christians often trust God precisely when they cannot see everything clearly.

Faith is not first about having all the right answers. Faith is entrusting ourselves to the God we meet in Jesus Christ. That is when we become good soil.

And that is what Jesus warns us about in Matthew. Bad soil can lose a trusting faith immediately. Bad soil can have a trusting faith only while life is easy. Bad soil can have a trusting faith until anxiety becomes louder than trust.

But good soil—or soil that is slowly becoming good—is soil that keeps learning to trust. It continues to trust, and over time it bears fruit, even when it seems that no one is tending it, because it trusts that God is still at work, caring and nurturing with steadfast love.

A Fruitful Faith

It is still a mystery to me how my grandparents’ harvest was so fruitful. But I believe and trust that it was cared for, even when I was not there. And it continued to grow, even after they could no longer tend it themselves.

When I think about faith and fruit, I cannot help but make a few connections—and I invite you to make them with me.

Bananas remind me of trust because they are always there. Even after hurricanes, they kept growing. Faith plants trust when the world teaches us to fear.

Oranges remind me of hope. Their bright color seemed to announce that joy was coming. They are such practical fruit—not only satisfying hunger but bringing refreshment as well. Faith plants hope when despair seems easier.

Grapefruits remind me of courage. They are not always sweet. Sometimes they surprise us with their sharpness. Courage is like that. Faith plants courage when we would rather hide. It does not promise an easy life, but it gives us strength to face life’s difficulties.

Breadfruit reminds me of generosity. One tree could feed an entire family, and the fruit is so versatile that you can prepare an entire banquet from it. Faith plants generosity in a world that teaches scarcity.

Puerto Rican cherries remind me of mercy. They may be small, but they are full of life and nourishment. Mercy often comes in small acts—a kind word, a gentle gesture, a forgiving heart—that become healing gifts for others. Faith plants mercy where resentment has taken root.

And bitter melon reminds me of love. In Spanish, the name (cundeamor) literally means, “love is abundant.” I loved picking them and eating them because, despite what many people expect, they were not bitter at all. Faith plants that kind of love—the kind that may seem strange or even bitter to some people, but is, in fact, sweet because it heals the world. It is the sacrificial, unconditional, costly, and life-giving love of Christ.

The Sower scatters God’s Word.

The Spirit grows faith.

And faith grows an orchard where the world can taste the goodness of God.

So be good soil. Be generous sowers. And keep growing a harvest of faith.