I see a lot of Christians
listening to cute sermons, and we're telling you to do
things that sound really big, to forgive people and to be free of addiction,
but I hear the response from the people. When the pulpit is echoing forth these lofty ideals,
the people are sitting in the pews saying, "How? You're telling me what, but you're
not telling me how. I don't know how." "I don't know how to read my Bible.
I don't know how to pray for over 13 seconds without thinking about my
need for cereal at the grocery store." Somebody try it. "I don't know how." That's
the most spiritual thing you've said all week. Who did God pick to be the disciples of Jesus?
Religious professionals with academic know-how? Who did God pick to carry his Son? What's the
first thing Mary said when the angel said, "The one born of you is the
Holy One of God"? "How?" What's the first thing the disciples said when
Jesus said, "Feed these big crowds even though you didn't pack a lunch"? "How?" That is
the starting place of spiritual growth. To admit when God calls me to do something, "But I don't know how. I don't know how."
"I don't know how to raise these kids. I don't know how. I did before I had them,
but now they're here, and I don't know how." I read the book, the baby book. It
told me that if you swaddle the child… But I found out my firstborn
child was "un-swaddleable." "I don't know how. I hear you preaching these
great sermons. 'Keep your eyes on Jesus, and don't look at the wind, and don't look at the waves.'
But how do I look at something that's invisible? I hear what you're saying, and I want what
you got, but I don't know how!" How many don't know how? Just see who I'm preaching to
and who I can leave alone. "I don't know how." "I don't know how to forgive
somebody but then make sure I keep an appropriate distance so they don't
continue to violate me. I don't know how." Here's a farmer who doesn't know how to make
a seed grow, and Jesus says, "It's like that." Growth is like that. There's a part you will play,
and you will know what to do. You sow, you water, you plow, but you don't have to know how. This is the dirty little secret of the kingdom
they don't want me to tell you. They want you to think God chooses and uses and blesses people who
are experts and who are the epitome of perfection, but I want to tell you who God is looking for:
fishermen like Peter, prostitutes like Rahab, people who don't know how.
That's what God is looking for: humble people. "Blessed are those who
hunger and thirst for righteousness." Not those who are so full of their own
wisdom they cannot receive the wisdom of God. If you came here today with
an "I don't know how" heart, God can fill what you will empty before him. I don't have to know how it works.
If I did I'd still be at the house, because I drove my Maxima here. I have no
idea how that button told my tires to spin. I have a little bit of a concept, but not
much. I found out something about my car that I found out about God. I found
out I don't have to understand it… See, it got me from here to there and from
there to here, and here I am preaching, but honestly, I don't know how. I have an iPad. I put my notes on my iPad. I
turn on my iPad. The notes appear on my iPad. I preach to you. I understand what button
to push. I push it. I know what letters to type. I type them. But as to how
the words appeared on the iPad, I don't know how. It didn't stop me from
preaching. It didn't stop it from working. There may be somebody here today who is
in a situation where you don't know how. "God, I'm not smart enough.
God, I wasn't trained for this. God, I've never been this way before. God, this
is new to me. God, I feel like a rookie." God said from heaven you don't have to
know how when you know who. Let's praise him like we know who
he is! He's the Lord of the harvest! The seed is mine, but the harvest is his! I don't have to know; I've just got to sow. Don't
let what you don't know keep you from sowing. The farmer didn't know how it was going to happen,
but he knew what to do. "I have to keep sowing. I have to keep praying. I have to
keep believing. I have to stay in this house. I have to be present. I have
to show up. All I have to do is sow." You don't have to know how. "I will make you fishers of men. All I
need is your boat. All I need is your will. All I need is your 'want to.' All I need is
your surrender. All I need is your obedience." But you stopped sowing because you didn't
know how. You don't have to know how. I can be like Abraham who set out from
Ur without knowing where he was going. He didn't have to know how because he
knew who. Are you getting the lesson? It's not just one text. It's the principle
of this parable that is illustrated. The kingdom of God is like
a man who sowed. He did sow. Notice there is a part you play, but once
you do what you know, there is a point you reach where you can't make it rain and you
can't control the rate of growth of the seed. There are so many people who will hear
this message, online and in our campuses, who are waiting to know before
you sow, and it's out of order. As much as I want to preach theologically right
now, I just want to minister to you personally. Let the dirt do its work. The
greatest growth happened not when the farmer was doing his part
but when the dirt was doing its part. There's a cooperation that happens in each of our
lives that's between the things we can control… I can plow, I can water, and I can sow. I can speak
words of encouragement. I can speak words of life. I can invest my resources into the
kingdom of God. I can do all of that, but the part that produces the fruit is not
attributed to the farmer in the passage. I think we fall into an extreme where we
either think it's all about what we know or it's all about what God does. In the passage,
the farmer scatters, but the soil produces. The dirty little secret (if I can use that
phrase) of the kingdom of God that Jesus is comparing to a seed is that your
destiny will be revealed in the dirt. What do I mean? The disappointment, the insecurity, the rejection, and the trouble.
Check it out. It spells dirt. The disappointment, the insecurity, the rejection, and the trouble.
This would be an excellent lesson on its own because it illustrates principles that
will apply to any area of our lives. Right here we could tell you
to make lemonade out of lemons. Right here we could tell you it doesn't
matter how many times you fall down. You know, get knocked down nine, get up ten.
We could say anything we want right here, and the principle would be powerful. But
this is not a principle; this is a parable. A parable is a picture that appears simple
on the surface but carries a deeper meaning. When I read the passage two years ago, I thought
the farmer was Jesus and the seed was the Word of God. The problem with this interpretation of
the parable, upon further reflection and study, is that Jesus can't be the farmer
because the farmer doesn't know how. Jesus is the wisdom of God. So to compare Jesus
to the farmer who scatters the seed is to miss the parable that is beneath the principle. The principle is "Don't let what you
don't know stop you from sowing," but the parable, the picture Jesus is painting is
of something that hasn't happened yet. Everyone around him in his inner circle, which
he has just selected in Mark, chapter 3… Everyone around him is trying their best
to keep him from going to the cross. For him to go to the cross means the death of
the movement he came to initiate, in their eyes. So when he stood before the judges,
both the Jewish Sanhedrin and the Roman government prelates, he was silent as a sheep
before the shearers. Everything in those disciples wanted to see Jesus come down from
the cross to avoid being buried in the grave, but Jesus stood before Pilate and allowed
those accusations to be heaped on him, although he was innocent, because he
knew the dirt had a purpose to fulfill. As he stood before those who accused him,
condemned him, and sentenced him to die, he could have stopped it, and he could have called
for legions of angels to come and rescue him from the rejection, but this is what he came for. He said with his silence something
that is illustrated in the parable. He said, "Let the dirt do its work, because if they accuse me, then my Father in
heaven doesn't have to accuse you. I'm going to take your accusations and your shame. I, the
innocent, am going to absorb your punishment so that you, the guilty, can go free." So when
they heaped their accusations on him, he took it. When he died on the cross and they took him down
and buried him in the grave, he did not resist the burial. Instead, he stayed dead three days to let
the dirt do its work. We thought we were attending a funeral, but really it was an agricultural
lesson. Jesus was not buried on Friday; he was planted. Because he was planted on Friday,
there is the expectation of harvest. He is the firstborn among many brethren. When he lay in
the grave it wasn't over; it was just beginning. I came to declare today to everybody who's
been going through a season of failure or depression or uncertainty or rejection or
disappointment, "Let the dirt do its work." Don't fight it, don't run from it, and don't pluck
up the seed because you don't like the season. Let the dirt do its work. This is the gospel of Jesus
Christ. This is what the kingdom of God is like. There's nothing man can do to you that God
cannot use for his good. I believe that. I believe that all things work together
for the good of them that love the Lord and are called according to his purpose, but I don't always know how. But I don't
have to know how, because I know who.
