And he said to them, ‘Do you not understand this parable? Then how will you understand all the parables? The sower sows the word. These are the ones on the path where the word is sown: when they hear, Satan immediately comes and takes away the word that is sown in them. And these are the ones sown on rocky ground: when they hear the word, they immediately receive it with joy. But they have no root, and endure only for a while; then, when trouble or persecution arises on account of the word, immediately they fall away. And others are those sown among the thorns: these are the ones who hear the word, but the cares of the world, and the lure of wealth, and the desire for other things come in and choke the word, and it yields nothing. And these are the ones sown on the good soil: they hear the word and accept it and bear fruit, thirty and sixty and a hundredfold.’ (Mark 4: 13-20)

How do we become as good soil?

I grew up among the farms of the Great Plains surrounded by some of the most fertile soil on the planet.

In many places there is 12 to 16 feet of dark, rich top soil. Year after year the soil gives back even more than a hundredfold.

This fertility is the outcome of a recurring cycle of growth and death. For millennia upon millennia vegetation would die, decompose, and add its complexity to the decomposing of what had died before it. Animal waste, burrowing insects, bacteria, and more give the soil additional resources.

It is a messy and time-consuming process.

The fertility of our souls has a similar origin. Each day we die a little, each day we share the complexity of those around us. Each day we choose either to receive the good seed and grow or reject it with stony complacency.

Rocks and stones only weather and dissipate. But even they contribute diverse minerals to the soil.