AGAIN JESUS BEGAN to teach by the lake. The crowd that gathered around him was so large that he got into a boat and sat in it out on the lake, while all the people were along the shore at the water’s edge. 2He taught them many things by parables, and in his teaching said: 3“Listen! A farmer went out to sow his seed. 4As he was scattering the seed, some fell along the path, and the birds came and ate it up. 5Some fell on rocky places, where it did not have much soil. It sprang up quickly, because the soil was shallow. 6But when the sun came up, the plants were scorched, and they withered because they had no root. 7Other seed fell among thorns, which grew up and choked the plants, so that they did not bear grain. 8Still other seed fell on good soil. It came up, grew and produced a crop, multiplying thirty, sixty, or even a hundred times.”
9Then Jesus said, “He who has ears to hear, let him hear.”
10When he was alone, the Twelve and the others around him asked him about the parables. 11He told them, “The secret of the kingdom of God has been given to you. But to those on the outside everything is said in parables 12so that,
“‘they may be ever seeing but never perceiving,
and ever hearing but never understanding;
otherwise they might turn and be forgiven!’”
13Then Jesus said to them, “Don’t you understand this parable? How then will you understand any parable? 14The farmer sows the word. 15Some people are like seed along the path, where the word is sown. As soon as they hear it, Satan comes and takes away the word that was sown in them. 16Others, like seed sown on rocky places, hear the word and at once receive it with joy. 17But since they have no root, they last only a short time. When trouble or persecution comes because of the word, they quickly fall away. 18Still others, like seed sown among thorns, hear the word; 19but the worries of this life, the deceitfulness of wealth and the desires for other things come in and choke the word, making it unfruitful. 20Others, like seed sown on good soil, hear the word, accept it, and produce a crop—thirty, sixty or even a hundred times what was sown.”
Original Meaning
JESUS’ PARABLES BY the sea form a large section (4:1–34) that is set off as a unit by the phrase “many parables”: “He taught them many things by parables” (4:2); “With many similar parables Jesus spoke the word to them” (4:33). Key terms appear throughout this section,1 but the most important is the verb “to hear” (akouo), which occurs thirteen times (vv. 3, 9 [2x], 12 [2x], 15, 16, 18, 20, 23 [2x], 24, 33). It brackets the parable of the sower: “Listen!” (v. 3); “He who has ears to hear, let him hear” (v. 9). The command “to hear” is the first word in the Shema (Deut. 6:4; see Mark 12:29), the confession of faith that faithful Jews recited daily. For that same command to preface Jesus’ parables may suggest that his words stand “in continuity with the words of God to Israel in the past.”2 The verb “to hear” appears twice in the quotation from Isaiah 6:9, explaining why everything comes in parables: (lit.) “so that … hearing they might hear and not understand” (4:12).
The idea of hearing is the key word in the interpretation of the parable of the sower (or soils). Each type of soil hears the word but reacts differently (4:15, 16, 18, 20). For the good soil, the participle “hearing” is in the present tense (v. 20), suggesting that it needs to continue. The command to hear concludes the parable of the lamp, “If anyone has ears to hear, let him hear” (v. 23), and precedes the parable of the measure, “Consider carefully what you hear” (v. 24). This leitmotif ringing through the discourse is a summons “to look beneath the surface,” to “discern the inner meaning of what they hear and see.”3 Everyone may listen, but not everyone can catch what Jesus says.
For too many, Jesus’ words go in one ear and out the other. In the opening scene, Jesus teaches all the crowd (4:1–2), but in the closing scene a split has occurred among the hearers (4:33–34). He “spoke the word” to them in many parables “as much as they could understand [hear],” and privately he explained all things to his disciples. This discourse explains how and why that division occurred, and it serves as a warning to the readers. Mark’s concern is that his readers be attentive and reflective so that the nature of the kingdom of God and how it advances in the world will not whiz by them, leaving them in a stupefied daze as if they were outsiders.
This section forms a chiasm.4
A. Narrative introduction (4:1–2)
B. Seed parable (4:3–9)
C. General statement about hiddenness (4:10–12)
D. Interpretation of the first parable (4:13–20)
C′. Parables about hiddenness (4:21–25)
B′. Seed parables (4:26–32)
A′. Narrative conclusion (4:33–34)5
We will divide our treatment of the parables into two units: the parable of the sower (4:1–20), and the hiddenness of the kingdom (4:21–34).
The Parable of the Sower (4:1–9)
THE SCENE OPENS with another notice of Jesus’ magnetic attraction on the crowds. They are now so large he must use the boat that was previously prepared for his emergency getaway (3:9) to face all of them massed on the shore (4:1). The word translated “shore” (ge) literally means “soil” (or “earth”) and is the same word used for the soil that did not have much depth of earth (4:5) and for the “good soil” where the seed is sown (4:8, 20; see also 4:26, 28, 31). The crowds on “the soil” may thus be understood as the recipients of Jesus’ sowing of the word.
Mark has told us that Jesus has taught (1:21, 27; 2:13), but this is the first time in the Gospel that he gives us a lengthy report of that teaching. Jesus is teaching them “by parables” (4:2),6 and the first parable happens to be a parable about his teaching. His question to the disciples in 4:13 implies that understanding this parable somehow helps one unlock the meaning of all of Jesus’ teaching. His commentary on why he teaches in parables in 4:10–12 suggests, however, that sowing the word brings to light the disparity that exists in the hearers’ capacity to respond. In the previous story (3:31–35), Jesus’ person and mission created a distinction between insiders and outsiders—those who committed themselves to be with him and to do God’s will and those who misunderstood him and sought to undermine or interfere with his work. In this section, Jesus’ teaching creates a split between insiders and outsiders (4:11)—those who gather around him to learn the mysteries of the kingdom (4:10, 34) and those who do not.
The parable of the sower and the parable of the tenants of the vineyard are the two major parables in Mark. Both come after challenges from religious authorities from Jerusalem (3:20–35; 11:27–33). Both are allegories that provide vital clues for interpreting what is happening in Jesus’ ministry. The parable of the tenants of the vineyard allegorizes the rejection of Jesus, the son who has come to collect the fruit of the harvest, and portends his death. The parable of the sower evaluates the various responses to his sowing of the word and portends the misunderstanding that accompanies his word and deeds as well as the harvest that will occur among those who do understand and respond.
A first reading of the parable of the sower tempts one to ask: What kind of careless farmer is this, who casts good seed on a pathway, on rocky terrain, and among thorn bushes? One influential interpretation paints the scene as a realistic portrayal of a farmer’s frustration in trying to grow a crop in Palestine.7 Sowing, it is argued, precedes plowing. The seeds fall on the path, the rocky ground, and among the thorns because of the broadcast method of sowing; the field would be plowed under after it had been sown with seed. The parable is said to depict a contrast between a discouraging beginning and a triumphant end. The manifold obstacles that frustrate the sower’s labor are only recounted to bring out the contrast between the impediments and the spectacular harvest (assuming that the harvest total of thirty, sixty, and a hundredfold is the bulk yield, the proportion of seed sown to harvest reaped) that will come in the end. Jeremias concludes:
To human eyes much of the labor seems to be futile and fruitless, resulting apparently in repeated failure, but Jesus is full of joyful confidence: he knows that God has made a beginning, bringing with it a harvest of reward beyond all asking or conceiving. In spite of every failure and opposition, from hopeless beginnings, God brings forth the triumphal end which he had promised.8
The information that Jeremias uses to reconstruct the realistic Palestinian setting and the point of the parable does not derive from the parable itself but from vague rabbinic texts that stem from a much later time. His reconstruction is an unnecessary attempt to make the parables realistic, which is based on a misleading canon that parables must be realistic. Otherwise, they are allegories, and many scholars assume that Jesus did not employ allegories.9 In response to Jeremias, (1) note that sowing did not necessarily precede plowing. In normal farming practice, the field would have been prepared before the seed was sown and would have been continually worked. (2) The harvest yield of thirty, sixty, and one hundred hardly represents the bulk yield of a single field. The yield represents the fruit produced by the individual plants.10 (3) These numbers do not represent a spectacular harvest. In Genesis 26:12 the hundredfold yield given to Isaac is the normal blessing that comes to those who are righteous.11
If one should not talk about a sensational harvest, what is the point? A parallel in 4 Ezra 8:41 may shed some light on the matter when compared to Jesus’ parable:
For just as the farmer sows many seeds upon the ground and plants a multitude of seedlings, and yet not all that have been sown will come up in due season, and not all that were planted will take root; so also those who have been sown in the world will not all be saved.
The point of the parable of the farmer in 4 Ezra is that all seed that is sown will not prosper; not everyone will be saved. This point is stated concisely (see 4 Ezra 3:20; 8:6; 9:17, 31, 34). By contrast, Jesus’ parable gives remarkable attention to describing the failure of the seed and the reasons for it (68 out of 97 words in the Greek). The harvest is therefore not the sole focus of the parable, because the parable places more emphasis on the utter waste of seed in most places than on the plentiful success in one.12
The one constant throughout the parable is the reference to the seed and the soil that receives the seed. The details of the parable indicate that a good crop depends entirely on the soil, and this configuration suggests that the parable is not simply describing the miraculous harvest of the kingdom, something pious Jews took for granted, but the kind of reception the kingdom receives.13 The sowing of the seed reveals the nature of the soil, whether it will produce a harvest or not. The harvest also is not miraculous but average to good. If so, then the parable compares the reception of Jesus’ ministry to what happens to the average farmer when he sows.
In sum, the parable portrays a sower who sows with abandon—casting seed upon a pathway, rocks, and thorns as well as on good ground. He is cultivating marginal ground and laboring against formidable odds, so the rate of failure is not surprising nor is the report of an average to good yield from the seed in good soil. Given the nature of the land, the average farmer meets with frustration and failure, but in the end he does receive a reward for his labors—a harvest where the seed has prospered in good soil and borne fruit. Jesus implies in the parable that he fully expects to meet with failure and success, but he fastens more attention on the reasons for the failure than the reasons for success.
Just as the field has different yields, the parable yields a number of points.14 Sider argues that Jesus’ story parables and many of his similitudes were too complex to be restricted to one simple idea. Jesus did not develop elaborate analogies simply to convey a single point but used them because they could argue “several things at once.”15 One must be careful not to assign to every detail absurd allegorical meanings that are foreign to a first-century Palestinian background and to the context of the Gospel of Mark. One must not rule out, however, that parables were designed to evoke a constellation of images that would give rise to various trains of thought. The following ideas may legitimately be gleaned from the parable.
(1) It makes all the difference in the world who tells this parable and what one’s stance is toward that person for how one understands this parable. The parable by itself has no meaning at all: A farmer goes out to sow and meets with failure and a good yield. So what? It could represent the effect that any teacher might have with an audience. But sowing in the Old Testament is a metaphor for God’s work. God promises to sow Israel to begin her renewal (Jer. 31:27–28; Ezek. 36:9; Hos. 2:21–23; 4 Ezra 8:6; 9:31).16 If one has a faith commitment to the teller of the parable, one can make the connection between God’s promise to replant Israel and Jesus’ ministry. The astounding implication, which only a few will see, is that Jesus comes as the end-time sower of God. Mark has framed his mission as one who goes out to sow the word: “Let us go somewhere else—to the nearby villages—so I can preach there also. That is why I have come [out]” (1:38). “I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners” (2:17). The metaphor of sowing takes on the greatest significance in that it implies that Jesus comes to renew Israel, and how one responds to his teaching decides whether one will be included or excluded.
(2) The sower sows liberally even in unfruitful ground in hope of a harvest. Someone could ask him, “Why sow there? Why not diminish the prospect of loss and be more choosy where the precious seed is sown?” No farmer, however, refuses to sow his seed because some might be wasted. The sower is not afraid to risk scattering his seeds wherever they may fall. Although speaking to some people is like trying to grow wheat in the passing lane of the local expressway; to others, like trying to grow wheat in a two-inch flower pot; and to still others, like trying to grow wheat in Brer Rabbit’s briar patch, the seed will be sown—and generously. Only sowing will lead to a harvest. Just as God sends rain on the just and the unjust, Jesus sows his word on good and bad soil. The parable therefore depicts a prodigal sower who excludes no one on principle. From what we learn of the Pharisees in Mark, we might imagine that if they controlled the sowing process, they would try to cut the losses by drastically limiting the terrain where the seed is sown. Clearly they would exclude lepers, sinners, and tax collectors as barren soil not worth the waste of seed. As it turns out, the Pharisees will be soil least receptive to the seed; but Jesus still sows lavishly.
(3) The parable affirms that despite the reversals caused by voracious birds, the scorching heat of the sun on skimpy soil, and a profusion of thorns, the farmer will have a harvest from good soil. The farmer does not go out to waste seed but to gain a harvest. The word of God will not fail (Isa. 55:10–11), and therefore one should not despair over the apparent failures, the blindness of unfaith, the defections, or the pernicious opposition. One can be assured the harvest will come from the response of the good soil.
(4) The parable reveals that the kingdom of God’s appearance in the ministry of Jesus does not come in one dramatic fell swoop, which instantly upends the old age. Evil does not vanish straightaway with the coming of the Christ, and people do not universally respond. Failure is not unexpected because the seed is susceptible to being devoured, withered, and choked. This issue is prominent in the explanation of why Jesus teaches in parables, a section inserted between the parable and its interpretation (4:10–12). Some will reject the truth no matter how it comes. They will see and see nothing; they will hear and understand nothing.
(5) The parable makes clear that fruit bearing (translated, “produced a crop” in 4:8) is an essential mark of the kingdom of God. The text mentions fruit bearing before the growth. Jesus’ teaching is a summons to obey the commands of God, and those who bear fruit heed his call and do his will (3:35). God expects to harvest this fruit (see 12:2).17
The Explanation for Teaching in Parables (4:10–12)
WHEN THOSE AROUND Jesus with the Twelve ask him about the parables, his response sets them apart from outsiders: To them has been given the mystery of the kingdom, while to outsiders everything comes in riddles (see also 3:31–32, 34). Isaiah 6:9–10 is then cited to justify his enigmatic teaching. We will examine first the meaning of the term mystery of the kingdom and then turn to the hard word that seems to suggest that Jesus deliberately clouds the truth to keep outsiders on the outside. Finally, we will identify what qualifies one as an insider.
The mystery of the kingdom. The term mystery may convey to us something that cannot be explained or understood, but it has a different coloring in its biblical roots. It does not refer to something unknowable or esoteric but to something that can only be communicated by divine revelation.18 In Mark, it refers to a heavenly truth that is concealed from human understanding but is made known by God. It is “not a mystery in the sense that it is incomprehensible, but it is a ‘secret’ in that not everyone yet knows it.”19
Mark does not tell us specifically what the nature of this mystery of the kingdom is. A careful reading of the context suggests that the secret has to do with the kingdom of God coming in a veiled way in the person, words, and works of Jesus.20 A distinction exists between the secret of Jesus’ identity and the mystery of the kingdom. The secret of Jesus’ identity as the Messiah and the Son of God has been revealed to the reader in the prologue. The secret of the kingdom is that people cannot see that his sowing the word, which will lead to his crucifixion and resurrection, is God’s decisive eschatological action. Those who “think the things of men” do not perceive that defeats turn into victories, that the rejected one is indeed the cornerstone, that the risen one is Jesus, “who was crucified” (16:6).21 Those who possess the secret of the kingdom, however, will eventually be able to see what others cannot: The kingdom of God is advancing not just through miracles but also through suffering and persecution. Only in its final stage will it be publicly manifest for all to see (4:22).
Because Jesus characterizes the parables as mystery, everyone needs his interpretation to understand them.22 But Jesus says (lit.) that “all things come,” not “are told,” “in parables” to those outside (4:11). The parables are not the only things that are opaque and require special insight; rather, everything, including the miracles, require interpretation (see 3:22–30; 6:51–52; 8:14–21). Geddert observes that “virtually all of the events of 4:35–8:26 are parabolic events, pointing beyond themselves to the kingdom in process of coming.”23
The phrase “in parables” in 4:11 takes on a different meaning from its use in 4:2. It now means bewildering puzzles. Revelation becomes riddles and stumpers to the hardened, shallow, and indifferent mind; and the end result is befuddlement. God’s mysterious revelation consequently reveals the blindness of the world, and that blindness is manifest in surprising groups: the religious authorities, the Pharisees and the teachers of the law (2:1–3:6; 3:22–30), Jesus’ nearest relatives (3:31–35), and even his disciples (8:14–21). They are wedded to old ways of perceiving and evaluate things only from human perspectives and potentialities. They see but see nothing special. These persons do not suffer from a thick skull but a hardened heart. The parables are therefore a “two-edged sword” that reveal the mystery of the kingdom to disciples who understand but create blindness in others.24 Edwards comments that they are
like the cloud which separated the fleeing Israelites from the pursuing Egyptians. It brought “darkness to the one side and light to the other” (Exod 14:20). The same cloud which condemned the Egyptians to their hardness of heart also protected Israel and made a way for her through the sea. That which was blindness to Egypt was revelation to Israel.25
Outsiders see no revelation of the kingdom of God in Jesus’ miracles, his teaching, or his death. Only insiders, even if they are sometimes confused by its enigmatic concealment, can see the truth.
The secret is therefore revealed to those who respond to Jesus by hearing and following. Jesus’ charge to hear only occurs in the public parables and not in the private explanations because insiders have already heard and have responded by coming to Jesus to hear more. Disciples are not quicker than others, nor are they able to unravel mysteries for themselves. The mystery is something that is “given” to them. The understanding comes by grace as Jesus’ interpretation unlocks the mystery for them.
The quotation from Isaiah 6:9–10. The citation from Isaiah has long troubled commentators because it suggests that Jesus deliberately excludes people by making things hard to understand with dark sayings that cloak the truth. The context in Isaiah is helpful for interpreting what is meant. God tells the prophet to preach in spite of warning him in advance that it will only harden the hearts of the hearers until God carries out the punishment.26 That command brims over with irony and scorn. God calls a faithful prophet to preach to faithless people. Jesus’ explanation for the parables has the same ironic tenor and can be translated: “So that they may indeed see but not perceive, and may indeed hear but not understand; because the last thing they want is to turn and have their sins forgiven.”27 In Isaiah’s time the people could not understand the message until the land and Jerusalem were decimated (Isa. 6:11–13). What was true for the days of Isaiah holds true for the time of Jesus. The present time is one of concealment and suffering, and understanding may have to wait destruction—the death of the Son of God and the desolation of Jerusalem.28
Insiders and outsiders. What is it that makes one an insider over against an outsider? Kermode objects that the outsider seems to be kept “outside, dismayed and frustrated in a seemingly arbitrary manner.”29 But this misreads the text, because the key element that distinguishes one from the other is that the insider gathers around Jesus as an honest inquirer (Mark 4:10). Disciples are no different from anyone in needing explanations for the parables, but they are different from outsiders in that they choose to come to Jesus for explanations. They also have to puzzle out the parables, but they ask questions sincerely.30 The decisive difference is that insiders are not indifferent. At the conclusion of this section of parables, Mark tells us that Jesus explains the parables to his disciples privately because they come to him and ask for an explanation (4:34). The fact that Jesus does this in private does not mean that he intends to exclude the others. Outsiders simply do not regard what he says to be critical enough to bother joining the disciples around Jesus in order to receive illumination.
Being an insider, however, does not mean that one knows everything. Insiders are elite only in the sense that they have knowledge that will save their lives. But insiders can be baffled and deceived and must watch how they listen. Malbon observes, “The resounding pattern is this: Hear. Understand? Listen again! See. Understand? Look again!”31 Insiders and outsiders are not separated by an unbridgeable chasm, such as the one that divided Lazarus from the rich man. So-called outsiders can become insiders, otherwise “the whole mission of preaching the good news of God’s kingship is a cruel hoax.”32 “The Twelve and the others around him” (4:10) must not be considered a closed group. So-called insiders can become outsiders; otherwise there would be no reason to caution them to pay heed to how they listen so that they can discern what lies hidden beneath the surface.
As the story progresses, the disciples’ dazed incomprehension (7:17–18; 8:14–21, 27–33; 9:9–13, 30–32; 10:23–31, 32–45; 11:20–25) and blindness (4:35–41; 6:45–52; 9:2–8; 14:17–25, 32–43) reveals that even they are at risk of becoming outsiders. They particularly fail to grasp fully the secret of the cross and resurrection. At the end, one becomes a traitor and betrays him; another denies him. All flee, leaving him to die alone. On the other hand, apparent outsiders often show the faith of insiders: the woman with the flow of blood (5:34), the Syrophoenician woman (7:29), the father of an epileptic (9:24), the exorcists who do not follow the disciples (9:38–41), the mothers of children (10:13–16), blind Bartimaeus (10:46–52), the woman who anointed Jesus (14:3–9), and the Roman centurion (15:39).
Blind Bartimaeus is even located “by the roadside” (10:46), the place where Satan is supposed to carry away the seeds before they have a chance even to take root (4:4, 15). One might not regard it as a promising spot for a disciple to be, but he acclaims Jesus and follows him (see 8:27; 9:33–34; 10:32). There is good news in the misunderstanding of the disciples. If we fail to comprehend perfectly all of the mystery, neither do these first disciples,33 and Jesus does not discard them for a more insightful lot. But there is also a stern admonition for us to be earnest listeners lest we fail to bear fruit.
The Interpretation of the Parable of the Sower (4:13–20)
THE CONTEXT IN Mark assumes that there can be no understanding without interpretation,34 and Jesus provides one for those who ask. In Hellenistic literature, the sower is a stock image for a teacher; sowing, for teaching; and soils, for students. Readers would have easily grasped the connections, but there are crucial differences. Since the sowing of the seed was a fixed metaphor in Jewish tradition for something God would do, Jesus’ parable is not about the cultivation of minds through education but the renewal of Israel. The interpretation of the parable shows that the things that cause the seed to come to grief are not the limited mental aptitude of the student (the reasons given in Hellenistic comparisons); they are caused by a cosmic struggle between God and Satan, by persecution, and by ethical (not intellectual) impoverishment.35
In Mark, the challenge to “listen” or “hear” begins and ends the parable (4:3, 9). The interpretation stresses that all of the soils have heard the word (4:15, 16, 18, 20). The sower has been successful in getting the seed sown; what happens next depends on the soil. The verb “to sow” is used in two senses: to sow in the sense of scattering seed, and to be sown in the sense of the ground being implanted with seed. The interpretation raises the question of whether the listener is going to produce any harvest, thus turning the parable of the sower into the parable of the soils. The parable shows that the productivity of the seed depends entirely on whether it lands in good or bad soil. Moving from the world of farming to spiritual realities, the parable suggests that the reception of the word (the seed) is directly related to the preexisting spiritual state of the hearers’ hearts, and the interpretation draws out the special differences among them.
The soil along the path (hodos) serves as a warning that Satan, though bound, is still a danger to those who hear indifferently. Two kingdoms are in deadly combat for the souls of humans, and Satan feasts off the types represented in the story by the teachers of the law from Jerusalem, the Herodians, and the chief priests.36 They hear Jesus and immediately want to destroy him (3:22; 11:18). For some listeners it will be of no avail, no matter what Jesus says or does. They observe his deeds, such as his healing the sick and casting out demons, and conclude that he works by black magic or Beelzebub, or that he is crazy. The explanation for their failure to hear is that Satan has caused them to oppose the kingdom. Satan controls them, not Jesus (3:22). Significantly, Mark tells us that the disciples were on the road (hodos) when they demonstrated their failure to understand the mystery that Jesus revealed to them about his death and resurrection by quarreling about who was the greatest (9:33–34) and who would get to sit on his right and left in his glory (10:32–41).
The seed in the rocky ground springs up immediately and receives the word joyfully. But the impenetrable stratum of rock does not allow the root of the plant to sink deep into nourishing soil. When the good times of joy are over and the time of tribulation and persecution arrives, the plant shrivels. The faith of such people is “like the morning mist, like the early dew that disappears” (Hos. 6:4). These listeners fall away (lit., “are scandalized”) when threatened by the slightest challenge to their faith.
In the story, we find crowds who are like flares, glowing with astonishment at Jesus’ teaching and miracles and rejoicing at his arrival in Jerusalem (12:37); but they do not have a deeply rooted faith, and when suffering looms on the horizon, they quickly fizzle out. Even the disciples, who have been so quick to respond, will also be quick to fall away when the pressure mounts. Jesus warns them about this danger at the Last Supper (14:27, 29), and his prediction is fulfilled when they run for their lives after his arrest. They are obsessed with their own safety and the preservation of life as they know it. Peter (Rock) discredits himself further. He follows Jesus from a safe distance into the courtyard of the high priest but withers in the face of a gentle accusation from a slave girl. He cannot withstand the heat of opposition and denies his Lord three times. The rocky ground serves as a warning that one’s faith must run deep if one hopes to endure the coming trials and tribulations.
The third soil is not infertile but so weed-ridden that the good seed is ultimately suffocated. Jesus frequently warns in his teaching against the things identified with the choking thorns: the cares of the world, the delight in riches, and the desire for other things. Herod’s story provides an example of one who hears the word gladly (6:20), but whose greater concern to preserve his honor and power extinguishes any chance that his hearing will bear fruit for God (6:21–29). The rich ruler is the most obvious example of how concern for material wealth blocks one from responding to Jesus’ call to discipleship (10:17–22). Judas’s story offers another warning of how money, not even riches, can entice even one of the Twelve to make the wrong choice. He sells out his master for the promise of some silver (14:10–11).
Jesus’ preaching reveals the good earth as well as the bad. One knows something is good earth simply because it bears fruit. In contrast to the bad soil, good soil hears rightly. Gundry draws out the vital differences. The good hearer welcomes the word immediately so that it cannot be snatched away by Satan. The good hearer welcomes it deeply so that it is not withered by persecution. The good hearer welcomes it exclusively so that other concerns do not strangle it.37 As the seed fails in three different ways in the bad soils, it succeeds in three different ways in good soil; but the parable and interpretation do not expand on the reasons for this varying success.
Bridging Contexts
IN BRINGING THE message of this parable into our age, we will first focus on the parabolic method of making the kingdom known and will then turn to the scandal that the explanation for the parables rouses. The disciples and those around Jesus asked about the parables; we want to know why he spoke in riddles that seem designed to conceal his message from outsiders. How could Jesus intentionally devise barriers to exclude people from coming into a saving relationship with God? Finally, we will discuss the parable’s capacity to have multiple meanings.
Making the kingdom known. In bridging the contexts one cannot avoid the parables’ purpose to hide the truth from those who are spiritually calcified. Parables are not homely stories for sluggish minds or visual aids designed to illustrate a simple point. As a didactic method, they are “the opposite of prosaic, propositional teaching.” The teaching is indirect and requires an investment of imagination and thought to seek their meaning for us.38 If one refuses to make that investment, then one will find no meaning in Jesus’ parables.
But parables are more than simply a didactic method. Jesus did not come merely to unveil fresh ideas about God or to confirm what everyone already believed but to call people to repent and to revolutionize their entire perspective about God and life. In Mark, parables are the form of God’s revelation that both reveal the mystery and hide it at the same time. The mystery is so great that prosaic propositions cannot fully express it. Claud-Adrian Helvétius in De l’Esprit wrote: “Almost all philosophers agree, that the most sublime truths once reduced to their plainest terms, may be converted into facts, and in that case present nothing more to the mind than this proposition, white is white, and black is black.” Parables are the means of making the kingdom authentically known. They require a flexible mind and an open heart to stretch around such an enormous concept as the kingdom of God, which comes with no objective proofs.
The only way parables can be understood at the deepest level is for one to dare to become involved in their world, to be willing to risk seeing God with new eyes, and to allow that vision to transform one’s being. Parables do not always make something obscure clearer by using vivid picture language. On the contrary, they may only befuddle. If one is blasé and takes no interest in what they might mean or in the one who speaks them, or if one refuses to make any decision until all the facts are in, one will remain in a fog.
If one is not indifferent but seeks to understand, however, then one mulls them over in the mind and comes for an interpretation. Only then does the parable perform its work of transforming our vision of God and the world and of leading us to spiritual insight. We can only learn what the riddle means “in respectful allegiance to the riddler”39 and by “learning to ‘see’ and ‘hear’ that which goes beyond the data available to the senses.”40 Ultimately, one does not grasp the mystery through intellectual capacity. God gives it to those open to the truth.
This indirect means of revealing God’s truth may make us uncomfortable. As teachers or preachers we do not want to be accused of being unclear. We may provide careful outlines and offer lengthy explanations to help everyone understand. We may feel that we have somehow failed if people remain confused. How many would have the courage to deliver a deliberately obscure message, as Jesus did, and then wait in the church parlor for worthy inquirers to come for an explanation? This text suggests, however, that we may fail to understand the truth of the gospel and rob it of some of its power if we think that everything must be kept simple and clear. It may lead us to reexamine what we are trying to do and how we are to go about making committed disciples. Jesus did not strive to make things easier for the crowds to comprehend or to make them feel more comfortable. His enigmatic teaching served to separate those who were curious from those who were serious, those who were seeking only a religious sideshow from those who were truly seeking after God. He was intent on eliciting genuine faith, and Mark’s Gospel insists that faith is born of the tension between the revealing and the veiling of the truth.
Geddert offers the stimulating thesis that Mark himself adopted this enigmatic method in composing his Gospel. He argues that the subtle mystery, the deliberate ambiguity, and the veiled clues that have so intrigued scholars about this Gospel were the deliberate means chosen by the Evangelist to communicate his profound theology and to challenge would-be disciples. He is “modelling himself after the Markan Jesus who also speaks ambiguously, calls for hearers to grasp points not made explicitly, and firmly believes that divine illumination will bring hearers to the understanding they need.”41
This passage forces us to reflect on our goals and methods in proclaiming the kingdom of God. Are we trying to lead people to a deeper understanding of the truth of God and to deepen their commitment, or are we trying to pad our statistics? Many churches that have used mass-marketing strategies and have tailored their worship services to attract customers are successful at least in beating Satan from devouring the seed before it even has a chance to germinate. People come to hear who otherwise would never darken the door of a church. But these churches may find that they, like churches following more traditional patterns, have assembled persons who run for the exits the first time there is the slightest cost for their faith. Their growth in discipleship will be stunted by their desire for God to bless their craving for material securities and comforts more than their spiritual lives.
Some research suggests that the boom in Baby Boomers’ church attendance has flattened out. Recent reports show that they now show up once in every four to six weeks rather than four times a month, and that they volunteer less and give less. Seekers must move beyond the seeker stage! How do we make disciples who can focus what they see into clear images of God? How do we make disciples who can separate what they hear into the clear commands of God, which they will then heed? This is the church’s crucial task and one that Mark’s Gospel seeks to address.
The scandal of the gospel. One thing that must be done is to allow the scandal of the gospel to have its full force. McCracken argues that parables “are not modes of instruction but rather forms of offense” designed to obstruct the truth.42 This in itself is a scandal to us. Elements that are odd, fantastic, extravagant, and offensive are crucial to parables that aim at shattering the comfortable world where everything is in its place. McCracken contends that the parables were not invented to convey points or to express propositions but to precipitate internal action, forcing the hearer or reader to a crisis or collision that requires movement. In New Testament terms, that crisis is an either/or proposition: either stumbling or changing-and-becoming, either enacting a lie that we want or being transformed. The danger is that we will try to minimize and domesticate the offense, making it barely recognizable and conveniently dodging any bothersome collision with the truth.43
Scandal is a necessary part of encountering the divine and having faith, even though it presents an obstacle that may block the way to truth and alienate one from God. It creates a crisis that reveals the hidden desires of the heart. Being offended reveals one’s sin, and it can lead one further away from God or back toward the God who always resists human aspirations. If one yearns for God, one can work through the offense and come closer to God. If the heart’s desires reign supreme, one will be alienated. We might ask ourselves what we find offensive about these parables and Jesus’ explanation for them and then try to examine why we are offended. Does our offense stem from the discovery that God’s ways are not our ways?
Sower and soils. We would argue that the parables of Jesus are open to a variety of meanings, and one need not feel constrained to limit a parable to a single point. The one-point dogma places the interpreter in a straightjacket and can limit the effectiveness of the parables.44 The parable of the sower can be explored from several perspectives. One can reflect on the parable from the perspective of the task of sowing, proclaiming the word. The sower is not interpreted allegorically. Jesus does not say, “I am the sower”; and this indefiniteness allows the parable to apply to those besides Jesus who sow the word (see 3:14). For Mark’s church and for ours the task of sowing continues, and the varieties of response and the reasons for them have little changed.
One can also apply the parable to help clarify the mission of the church in times of discouragement. It helps downcast sowers begin to understand that sowers can only sow and can do nothing about the nature of the soil. The parable mentions nothing about plowing, manuring, weeding the field, or even putting up a scarecrow to scare off the birds. The sower in this parable is not responsible for the soil on which he sows.
One can also look at the parable from the perspective of the soils and the responsibility to hear rightly. Individuals can take responsibility for what kind of soil they are, fruitful or unfruitful. It has been impossible to conceal the miracles that Jesus has done. The word has reached everywhere, including Jerusalem, and experts are sent to check things out. Jesus has taught openly. But not everyone can make the connection between what Jesus says and does and the advent of the kingdom of God. The obscurity of the parables does not cause the listeners’ unbelief so much as their unwillingness to repent. This recalcitrance makes them unable to grasp the mystery of the kingdom. What is hard to see is that Jesus the Nazarene who was crucified (16:6) is Lord of the world. We become blind because we would rather give our allegiance to other lords who oblige our selfish desires.
Contemporary Significance
WE CAN APPLY the parable to our role as sowers of God’s word. Many churches are making adjustments in the worship to make it more user-friendly for those labeled “seekers.” Jesus’ method of proclaiming the kingdom of God should cause us to ask, however, to what end are we doing this? Three observations can be made related to issues of church growth.
(1) The sower in the parable does not prejudge soil. He casts the seeds with abandon and does not decide in advance whether the soil has potential or not, whether it is a waste of time or not. The message is not test-marketed first to see what the response is likely to be and then to adjust the message to ensure the best reception of the product. There is no concern to hit target groups only, to visit only certain kinds of people who are like us. There is no fear of sowing outside the boundaries.
In his proposals for church growth, Wagner has contended that resources of time, personnel, and money should be focused where there is the greatest receptivity to the gospel.45 Although he insists that we not bypass those who are resistant but must establish a friendly presence and quietly sow the seed,46 this parable should make us cautious that we not preempt the sovereignty of God or the role of the Holy Spirit. Any farmer knows that sowing is risky business, but that does not keep the farmer from risking his seed. The danger is that we might hide behind principles of church growth to justify our neglect of those whom we prejudge to be resistant and to assuage our conscience when we decide to abandon ministry in the hardscrabble soil of the inner cities and flee to the “more fruitful” suburbs.
The parable makes the point that some seed falling in the right place yields fruit. One should not infer from this that Jesus advises sowers to sow seed only in the right place, where the conditions promise a good crop. When one is sowing something like the word in the hearts of people, how does one know that the conditions are right until the sowing occurs? When dealing with human hearts, how long does one wait before giving up hope for a harvest? Adoniram Judson went seven years before he made a convert. The parable invites us to become prodigal sowers, scattering the seed far and wide.
(2) The explanation for the parable indicates that success comes from God. Jesus affirms that insight into the mystery of the kingdom is something given by God. As sowers we can take no credit for any success that comes from our sowing, nor need we beat ourselves down for any failure. Paul’s argument to the Corinthians about the unity of the work is apropos (1 Cor. 3:5–9):
What, after all, is Apollos? And what is Paul? Only servants, through whom you came to believe—as the Lord has assigned to each his task. I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God made it grow. So neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow. The man who plants and the man who waters have one purpose, and each will be rewarded according to his own labor. For we are God’s fellow workers; you are God’s field, God’s building.
Some will minister where one type of soil might predominate, but no one can boast over success when laboring in a particularly productive field. Tradition says that the Palestinian plowman began his task with a prayer:
Lord, my task is the red [referring to the reddish soil]
the green is Thine
We plow, but it is Thou that dost give the crop.47
(3) Sowers are not called to be successful but to be faithful. As sowers, we are to aim for success, a harvest. But the peril is that we may become so consumed with the outward signs of success that we get converts with no deep root system that will support them over the long haul. We read about or hear others brag about those whose ministry has met with enormous numerical and financial victories. Frequently people judge success by numbers. Americans in particular assume that bigger is better and that the presence of large numbers is a sure sign of the Spirit’s presence. The corollary is that failure is also measured by numbers, and a low response is construed as a sign of the Spirit’s absence. The danger of these assumptions for the spiritual development of disciples is that we will offer the lowest common denominator spirituality, which caters to mass appeal and fails to challenge the hearers’ sins and worldviews.
A newspaper interview recently reported that the creator of a long-running, irreverent TV show was “born again.” He claimed, however, that his conversion did not lead to any new moral standards at the network: “All it does is give me peace of mind in my personal life, and I enjoy the pastor who holds my attention with his good natured sermons full of jokes and anecdotes.” One is reminded of Dante’s chiding of recreant preachers in The Divine Comedy.
Now they go with jests and buffoonery
to preach and, provided people laugh loudly,
the cowl puff up [pleased] and no more is required.48
Marsha Witten writes about receiving a slick direct-mail solicitation from a new church in her neighborhood. It trumpeted itself as a “new church designed to meet your needs,” with “positive, practical messages which uplift you each week.” The topics were about how to feel good about yourself, how to overcome depression, how to have a full and successful life, how to handle money, how to handle stress, and so on. She noted that it offered a “cheerful, practical list of the social and psychological pleasures one might receive from affiliation within its church, with no mention whatsoever of faith or God, let alone of suffering or spiritual striving.”49 To be faithful sowers of the word, one needs to preach the whole gospel—including the discomforting parts that hack away at our selfish concerns to be at ease and uplifted—and let whatever happens happen.
The opposing kingdom puts up a fight, and the world is not uniformly productive. The word will meet with adversity and opposition. Not everyone is going to receive God’s word with open arms; many will spurn it. The same sun that melts ice also bakes clay as hard as a brick. It was Paul’s experience. He writes in 2 Corinthians 2:15–16: “We are to God the aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing. To the one we are the smell of death; to the other, the fragrance of life.” We need a deep sense of God’s call not to be overcome by discouragement when our faithful labors meet with little response. Isaiah was not allowed to use the failure of the people to respond to his message as an excuse to quit preaching.
Sometimes people respond to the word as airline passengers respond to the stewardess’s instructions before the takeoff on what to do in case of an emergency. She invites passengers to watch and listen and follow along with the card in the seat pocket in front of them, but most blithely ignore the instructions. They are preoccupied in conversations, absorbed in their reading, staring out the window, or dozing off. The stewardess looks bored with it all herself as she goes through the motions for the umpteenth time, but she is dealing with life-and-death matters. No airline would allow the stewardess to skip those preflight instructions simply because no one seems to bother to listen. Since the power of the seed to bring forth fruit in good soil does not belong to the sower, one should not despair over the apparent failures, the blindness of unfaith, or the pernicious opposition. Minear astutely observes: “If some prove to be blind, that is God’s business, not yours. If they do not have hearing ears, you will never know it except by speaking to them.”50
The preaching of the word may not be received, but it remains powerful. Sometimes we find it difficult to believe that God’s word does not fail when we are in the midst of decline. We may fall victim to despair when we cannot point to great successes to confirm that our faith is not just whistling in the dark, that there is substance to it. Opinion polls and a triumphant response, however, do not determine the truth of what we believe.
We can also apply the parable to our responsibility to receive the word as good soil. Soil is unable to change its character, but humans can. The parable serves as a warning to listeners, that they need to do a soil test on themselves. Insiders can easily become outsiders and become like the unproductive soil. One must constantly heed the dangers that plagued what makes bad soil bad and be mindful that in the parable the failure comes in different stages. Some seed is lost immediately and does not even get into the ground. Some is lost eventually; it gets into the ground but withers at the root. Some gets down deep enough into the ground to grow but ultimately is choked out by the thorns.51
Sometimes we can be like the hardened soil on the path. Nothing sinks in. We remain untouched by the word in the center of gravity in our lives. We do not understand and do not care to invest what it takes to come to any understanding. Louis Armstrong once was asked to define jazz. He responded, “Man, when you got to ask what it is, you’ll never get to know.” Many do not care about jazz and so do not bother to find out what it is. Many do not care about the good news of God, but the difference is that what Jesus is talking about affects all of life and one’s eternal relationship with God.
Sometimes we are in danger of becoming like the shallow-rooted soil. Any hint of persecution or tribulation shrivels any faith we might have. How many would pack the pews if they knew that their license plate numbers were being written down by Gestapo-like police, and that their lives, property, and children were threatened because of their faith? Someone has said that it takes courage to stand up and be counted but even more courage to keep standing up after you have been counted. Jesus’ discourse in Mark 13 reveals that tribulation is not some tedious detour, it is the main highway for Christian disciples (see also 9:49, “everyone will be salted with fire”; 10:30, “with … persecutions”; 1 Thess. 3:1–3). Jesus does not promise freedom from oppression but plenty of it. Mark’s Gospel contends that the courage to withstand the oppression derives from a deeply rooted faith. If we must enter the kingdom of God by way of many afflictions (Acts 14:22), then one must be prepared when they come. Many rejoice during the days of miracles, but the days of suffering test their faith (see James 1:2–3, 12; 1 Peter 1:6–7; 4:12). The deepest walk with God comes when we are under pressure, yet can see beyond the immediate suffering. It transforms pain into privilege (see Acts 5:41–42; Phil. 1:6, 29).
The third danger is that of materialism, which cramps faith. Many in the church would like to have it both ways—to have wealth (or at least a comfortable nest egg) and to be faithful to God—and they try to pursue both equally. Jesus likened this to trying to serve two different masters (Matt. 6:24)—as futile as trying to follow a road that forks. Jesus knew that such things always crowd in and strangle any commitment to God.
Peter de Vries, in his novel The Mackeral Plaza, describes people who live “a kind of hand to mouth luxury, never knowing where their next quarterly installment of taxes or the payment on the third car is coming from.” Most know firsthand the well-known axiom that our yearnings always exceed our earnings, and in our consumer-oriented society, a faith that calls for sacrifice and service for others soon takes a back seat. Those who are satisfied with their level of devotion to God but never satisfied with the abundance of what they already have will never bear a harvest worth taking away. The glut of how-to books flooding the market, which promise to teach the buyers how to relax their way to success, to be energetic and beautiful, to win big money, unlimited power, and control over others, reveals that we live in a narcissistic age. Many Christians travel so heavily laden with concerns for such things in their own walk with God that they soon drop back and then drop out. They are unwilling to take the risks required by any deeply rooted commitment to God for fear of sacrificing their standard of living.
Ministers are not immune to these temptations. A retired pastor advised a young seminary student puzzling about what to do when he graduated: “Son, go where the money is. God is everywhere.” This attitude only prepares the soil for thistles to flourish and creates followers who do not seek first the kingdom of God. Instead, they believe that they must first get a good education, first get a good job, first marry, first find a nice house in a nice locality surrounded by nice people, first have some nice children, first furnish their home with nice things … and on and on.52 After all these other firsts, God comes in a distant last.
The parable identifies what makes bad soil bad: the beaten-down path represents those who do not want to repent; the rocky soil, the dropouts who want only life without tribulation; the thorn-infested ground, those whose life is wrapped up in making money and having the best things in life. But the parable does not identify what makes good soil good so that it produces a good yield. What is a thirtyfolder, a sixtyfolder, a hundredfolder? Jesus tells us the reasons for the failures but not the precise modes of success. The parable does not tell us how to become good earth—only to be careful how we hear.53 One can only know that after reading the whole of the Gospel of Mark and learning from the example of Jesus.