But he that is sown on the rocky places -- this is he who hears the word and immediately receives it with joy,
Jesus has just explained the first kind of soil. Now He turns to seed that falls on rock covered by a thin layer of earth, and to a hearer who takes the word at once with joy — a welcome the Lord still calls a failure.
One writer explains what this ground really is:
"Stony ground" may not mean quite what we usually mean by the word. It is not ground with stones in it, because stones alone would not stop the root from getting down into the earth. What the blessed Lord means here by stony ground is a solid surface of rock, with a very slight and thin coating of earth over it. The seed falls there and — a very remarkable thing — it springs up at once. … It springs up fast in proportion to the lack of depth.
One writer shows which part of the man the word reached, and which part it did not:
"As for what was sown on rocky ground, this is the one who hears the word and immediately receives it with joy" (v. 20). There you have the heart, moved in its affections, but without exercise of conscience. He receives the word with joy right away. There is great gladness about it, but there it ends. Only the Holy Spirit acting on the conscience makes a person see things as they are in God's sight.
One writer sets this joy beside the joy of true converts:
The stony ground hearers are the impressionable yet superficial folk. They respond to the word at once with gladness, but have no real sense of what it means. It was said of true converts that they "received the word in much affliction, with the joy of the Holy Spirit" (1 Thess. 1:6). That affliction came before their gladness. It came from the word convicting them and waking them up to their sin. The stony ground hearer skips over the affliction, because he does not feel his real need. So he lands in a gladness that is only on the surface. It fades when testing comes, and he fades with it.
The first soil showed the word rejected. This one shows it welcomed — and the outcome is the same:
In the next class of hearers, the stony ground illustrates the opposition of the flesh. And for this reason it is pictured, not at its worst, but at its best. This man "hears the word and immediately receives it with joy, yet he has no root in himself." This is not the natural man rejecting the Word. It is the natural man receiving it, and yet there is no more real fruit than in the first case. The seed grows fast. The rocky bed works like a natural hot-bed, so the seed shoots up quickly and full of promise. But the very thing that makes it grow so readily is what stops it from lasting.
The same writer draws a fine but decisive line:
Such a man believes. He is not insincere, and he is not a hypocrite. The Word simply has no root in him, like seed in stony ground. His heart was never ploughed up by conviction of sin, so it stays as hard as it was. The joy in him was too "immediate"; there was no finding out of self, no taking the place of the lost, that Christ might save. He believed a doctrine; he never came to Jesus. He had joy, not peace. There was no change in the man himself, and no root. Note, it was not what had root that withered, but because it had no root it withered away. It would not have withered had it had root.
Another writer draws out what the day of testing exposes:
Let us rejoice with trembling to see how far a person may go, and yet be deceived! … But the testing time came, and if there was no root, there would be no fruit.
- Rock — not a field with stones in it, but a slab of rock under a thin layer of earth. The trouble lies underneath, out of sight.
- Speed — the seed springs up fast because the soil is shallow. Quick growth here is the symptom, not the success.
- Joy — the gladness is real, but it comes out of order. Where God works, the word reaches the conscience first, and joy follows conviction.
- Root — nothing withered that had root; it withered because it had none. This man believed a doctrine and had joy, but not peace.
- Fruit — here human nature is at its best. It welcomes the word instead of refusing it, and still bears no more fruit than the first soil. A person can go this far and still be deceived.
but has no root in himself, but is for a time only; and when tribulation or persecution happens on account of the word, he is immediately offended.
The Lord is explaining His own parable. This second soil is the most unsettling of the four. The seed springs up fast, the hearer is glad, and then it all collapses. Two words carry the weight: "root" and "immediately." Why does a start that looks so promising end in nothing?
The picture is not a field with stones scattered through it.
The phrase "on stony ground" does not quite mean what we normally mean by that word. It is not ground with stones in it. Stones by themselves would not stop the root from getting down into the earth. By stony ground the Lord means a solid bed of rock with a very thin coating of earth over it… Its growth at the start is as fast as its withering at the end. It springs up quickly in proportion to how little depth there is… If the first case is indifference, this is shallowness.
Speed and gladness are not the marks of a deep work. Commentators trace the missing root back to something the word never touched.
A conscience touched by the word makes a man serious. He sees himself in the presence of God. That is always a serious thing, however strong the attraction of His grace or the hope His goodness inspires. If the word has not reached the conscience, there is no root. He received the word for the joy it gave; when it brings tribulation, he gives it up.
The parable's three phrases hang together as one chain.
We cannot think too carefully about how these phrases connect: "immediately, with joy," "no root," "withered away." There is great danger in taking in the plan of salvation with the mind only, with no spiritual work in the conscience. This often comes with the most joyful emotions. It works on the natural feelings, but the truth has not gone into the heart. The word has cut no furrow there.
"Endures for a while" sounds like life that later died. The Lord's own reason says otherwise.
Such a man believes. He is not insincere, not a hypocrite. Simply, the word, like seed in stony ground, has no root in him. His heart, never ploughed up by conviction of sin, stays in unchanged hardness… He had joy, not peace. There was no change in the man himself, and no root. Note, it was not what had root that withered; it withered away because it had no root. It would not have withered if it had had root.
The trial in the verse is not random misfortune; it arises "on account of the word," and it does a work of its own.
It is God's design for the trial of His saints. It distinguishes true saints from hypocrites. Unsound hearts make a fine show in prosperity, but in a time of persecution they fall away. Hypocrites will follow Christ to the Mount of Olives, but not to Calvary. Suffering times are sifting times. "When He has tried me, I shall come forth as gold."
Older translations say "offended" where the ESV has "falls away." What springs the trap is the same faculty that welcomed the seed.
He heard the word and immediately received it with joy, yet it had no root in the man himself. It lasts only for a while. But when persecution or tribulation comes because of the word, immediately he is offended — the same word as "immediately" above. Feeling is not conscience. Feeling will act at once to receive. But when trial from within or without tests it, his own feelings turn against him and catch him in a trap.
The same sun that scorches shallow corn ripens deep-rooted fruit. What makes the difference lies deeper than the trial itself.
Every test and trial of life has its sure effect on us. They either scorch and wither us, like the corn on rocky ground that dies when the sun is up. Or they bring our Christian life and fruit to maturity. Our secret life with God decides which of the two happens in us. If we are much with Him, we strike our roots down into the knowledge of Him. We draw our refreshment and strength from the hidden springs in Him. Then we need not dread the trial.
- Rock — the soil is a slab of stone under a thin skin of earth; the problem is not interference but shallowness.
- Root — the missing root is a conscience the word never reached. Joy came fast because the word had ploughed nothing up first.
- Reality — what withered had never taken root. The Lord's own reason is "because it had no root," not that living faith died.
- Refining — trouble that comes because of the word is God's sifter. It marks off true saints from those who follow Christ only as far as the Mount of Olives.
- Rooting — the same sun that withers the shallow ripens the deep. We strike our roots down in secret with God, before the heat comes.
And he that is sown among the thorns -- this is he who hears the word, and the anxious care of this life, and the deceit of riches choke the word, and he becomes unfruitful.
In the parable of the sower, this third soil looks the most promising of the failures. The hearer takes the word in, and something starts to grow. Yet nothing ripens. The reason is not persecution, but the ordinary weight of everyday life.
The trouble starts before the seed lands. The thorns were in the soil already.
The seed fell, but the ground that received it was already overrun with thorns. They appeared well. As far as anyone could see, they had received the seed. There were indeed roots in them, but they were the roots of something else — "other seeds fell among thorns." Those roots were growing there before the seed was scattered. No doubt these thorns seemed weak and unimportant when the word first fell on the soil. Someone may have thought they were pulled up. But the roots stayed in the ground. They sprang up, pushed out the good seed and choked it — and so no fruit came. These hearers profess to receive the word of the kingdom, but they are taken up with the things of this world — its sorrows, its sadness or its delights. The things they busy themselves with are the things that choke the seed — things tied, not to Christ, but to what He will judge.
The hearer here never rejects the word. He simply ranks it below other things.
The third class of ground, full of thorns, gives the seed no proper welcome either. Perhaps the seed makes a feeble attempt to grow, but the thorns crowd out the grain: it does not continue. This is explained in verse 22 as describing those who, though they hear the word, do not give it a more important place than the cares of this world and the deceitfulness of riches. Present material concerns and desire for this world's goods choke out the more vital, valuable blessing of the word of God. Too many today prefer thorns!
What makes "the cares of the world" so dangerous is that they rarely look like sin.
These "cares" are very subtle things. They come in as necessary duties, and there is no sin in doing one's duty. In fact, it is right that a man should do his duty in his daily work. But if these duties choke the word, and a man loses his soul through it, what then? And if the love of possession slips into the heart, it checks the power of Christ over the soul and conscience. It eats out the practical life of the Christian, and his soul is withered, withered, withered.
The two thorns named here are not aimed at the same person.
The "cares" point especially to the poor man's struggle over how to live at all, how to keep the wolf from the door. This is the struggle for daily food, the cares of this life. If faith does not meet them, they stop the word from thriving in the heart. Those who are well off are especially open to the "deceitfulness of riches," above all when the love of money comes with having it (1 Tim. 6:9-10).
The verse calls riches deceitful. Two pictures show why — one for how empty they are, one for the pain they bring.
As riches are compared to "wind" to show how empty they are (Hosea 12:1), so they are compared to "thorns," to show the trouble they bring (Matt. 13:22). Thorns are no more likely to tear our clothes than riches are to tear our hearts. They are thorns while we gather them; they prick us with worry. As they pierce the hand with the worry of getting, so they wound the heart with the fear of losing.
It does not take much wealth to do this.
As to the deceitfulness of riches, the smallest possession that the heart is set on is enough to choke the word. How we see this in people who make a profession of faith and have lost all freshness!
Nothing dramatic happens to this hearer. That is exactly what makes the warning so serious.
This is perhaps a more solemn warning than either of the others. Here the word seems to have taken deeper hold. What overthrows this faith is not the violent assault of persecution, but the quiet influence of things that surround us all. Care for the soul is not despised; it is just crowded out. No sudden attack, no pressure of temptation — just the ordinary wear and tear of life, and, like seed among thorns, the promise of fruit was choked.
Attacking thorns directly does not clear them. A farmer's field shows the better way.
The farmer may plough and harrow, but for every root he breaks, two plants will grow up, and his field will become a briar patch. Instead, let him sow the field with grass seed, and as the grass grows up it will drive out the briars. This is overcoming evil with good... Let the positive things of Christ fill the heart. Let the word of Christ dwell in us richly, and we will have little room and less desire for the lusts of the flesh.
- Roots first. The thorns were in the ground before the seed arrived. The word does not create the rival; it exposes one already there.
- Rivals, not enemies. Cares arrive dressed as necessary duty, and there is no sin in doing your duty — until the duty chokes the word and the soul withers.
- Both ends of the scale. Cares press the poor man scraping for daily bread; the deceit of riches works on those who have plenty. No one is out of range.
- Quiet ruin. No persecution, no sudden attack — just the ordinary wear and tear of life, and the promise of fruit is crowded out.
- Cleared by planting. You do not clear thorns by hacking at roots. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, and there is little room left for anything else.