Among the parables about the Kingdom, the parables of the sower occupy a special place. In today's Gospel reading Jesus speaks of what prevents a person from entering the Kingdom. And the first obstacle on this path is the "road," the lack of attention to the words of the One who bears witness to the Kingdom (vv. 4, 19). It would seem that distraction is not characteristic of everyone. But in this case the matter is evidently attention of a special kind, that inner sensitivity which makes a person listen and stop before what he usually passes by without thinking.

In the Gospel period, words about the Kingdom and about the Messiah sounded often, and for many people, especially those living an intense religious life, they had probably already become somewhat stale. Perhaps this is precisely what moved Jesus to address the people in parables: such language always attracts attention, often forcing people to look at well-known and familiar things from an unexpected side, allowing them to see what would otherwise have remained unnoticed. But it is not enough merely to notice and turn; one must also remain faithful even when the enthusiasm of the newly converted passes and the world demands its own, so that the matter may even come to persecution (vv. 5-6, 20-21). Here feelings alone will not suffice, nor reason alone; faith not rooted in the will will hardly withstand strong external pressure, for feelings pass away and reason is pliable.

Yet there is something in the world more dangerous for spiritual life than pressure and even persecution, although compared with them this danger appears unserious: worldly cares and everyday bustle (vv. 7, 22). Can cares and bustle break those whom persecutions did not break?

But during persecutions the situation usually looks completely clear, and the will gathers itself into one by itself. Times of peace and quiet are another matter, when there seems to be no danger and one can relax, drifting with a current that promises no rapids or whirlpools ahead. Meanwhile everyday bustle quietly shifts attention to itself and, if one does not catch oneself in time, easily swallows a person whole, gradually forcing him, if not entirely to forget God and spiritual life, then at least to push them into the background. Only the one who can withstand both persecutions and everyday bustle becomes good soil that bears abundant spiritual fruit (vv. 8, 23).

The parable of the sower is undoubtedly a parable about the Kingdom and about people who enter the Kingdom or try to enter it. It is also about witness and witnesses. Only the sowing takes place rather strangely: some falls by the road, some on dry ground, as if the sower works without looking where the seed flies. Yes, at first glance this is strange; but if one thinks about it, it cannot be otherwise. Indeed, does a witness always choose to whom he bears witness? Of course, a true witness is led by God, who indicates to him where, when, to whom, and what to say. But witness often sounds quite broadly: very different people gather to listen to the witness, and no one can be denied the right to hear it. In such a situation some seeds will inevitably fall into soil that is not best suited for them.

Yet the matter is not only, it seems, in the features of witness. The matter is above all in the very nature of the Kingdom, in how it enters our world, transforming it. The breath of the Kingdom touches very different people, and the response to this touch can be extremely varied, from complete ignoring to full acceptance. Some, of course, simply do not notice the breath of the Kingdom, but even those who notice it are not necessarily glad of it. For in a certain sense it is not selective: it often touches many at once, as happened, for example, on the day of Pentecost, when all those gathered in the room sensed it, and then all who were on the street before the house and heard the apostles' preaching. Not everyone who heard the preaching and sensed the breath of the Kingdom then turned, although, judging by the witness of the Book of Acts, there were many such people.

And if the breath of the Kingdom so often touches those who do not expect it, simply because the Kingdom enters our transforming but not yet transformed world, how else is a witness to act? He can only sow the seeds of the Kingdom, as the sower in the Savior's parable sows them. For when the time of harvest comes, the field itself will also be transformed, so that no seeds will be lost.

Thanks to the evangelists, we have access not only to the parable of the sower itself, but also to its interpretation, which the disciples heard directly from Jesus. But every parable He spoke is so many-sided that all its depths cannot be exhausted by a single interpretation, even the wisest one. We grasp the meaning of what the Lord said layer by layer. Therefore it is not a stretch to read this parable not only as a story about how different people receive the Word of God, responding differently to preaching, but also as an account of different states of the soul in one and the same person. Each of us, throughout life, has responded very differently to what we have heard. Many of those who today, like good soil, receive and carry the seed of the good News were once rocky ground. And conversely, many of those who today are overgrown with thorns can be cleared of them.

And sometimes even good soil unexpectedly turns stony or becomes wildly overgrown with weeds, so we should not relax by prematurely taking stock of the successes of our spiritual life...

The disciples ask Christ a completely natural question: why does He speak in parables? Indeed, if parables are so difficult for people to understand, why not give them instruction directly? In answer to this, Christ cites the words of Isaiah, who foretold that the hearts of those who heard would become so dull that what they heard would pass by their ears. But then why say anything at all before such people? Is Christ casting words to the wind?

No, He does nothing in vain. Apparently this is precisely why Christ addresses people through parables: so that the seed hidden in figurative speech may still fall into their souls and begin to sprout, even if below the surface. Yes, the consciousness of a considerable part of the listeners is still closed, but their souls in their depths are far more receptive than superficial reason. And if what they hear finds even a small response in the soul, it will begin spiritual growth, that is, the increase of what the Lord had given such people. Those who are confident in the sufficiency of their "spiritual level" and have no intention of increasing it will lose it simply because spiritual life excludes complacency and self-satisfaction.