Friends, One of the best-known parables of Jesus is the parable of ‘The Sower.’ In that parable, good seed is cast on various types of soil – producing very different results. While it may explain how the seed of God’s Word gets a different response from different people, it may simply carry an invitation to be good soil – people receptive to God – people where growth can take place. Our lives are often not just one kind of soil. Our inner terrain may be from time to time something of a patch-work terrain, much like the kinds of terrain in the parable. Our lives can be filled with patterns – or ruts -- so well trodden, and so sun-baked or half-baked, that it’s virtually impossible for the seed of the word to take root. We are often afraid to let new growth occur on those well-traveled tracks, lest we be forced to build a whole new path – or a whole new life. ‘Lest we be invited by God’s Spirit to change – or to go deeper in faith and action. We may even be afraid to let new growth occur on our good soil – lest we find that we need to change or move outside our comfort zones. How many of us hear the word to forgive others, and quickly determine it was really meant for someone else in the room or someone else in our life -- even as we carefully, secretly, carry a grudge? I am fond of a little poem, called: “The Place Where We Are Right” by (Rabbi) Yehuda Amichai From the place where we are right Flowers will never grow In the spring. The place where we are right Is hard and trampled Like a yard. But doubts and loves Dig up the world Like a mole, a plow. And a whisper will be heard in the place Where the ruined House once stood. He’s right on! In the places where we are so convinced that we are right -- flowers will never grow in the spring or summer. It is not a place of beauty or a place of new life. With you, in this pilgrimage of faith, this Lenten season,