LITMIR.BIZ

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at ye ar, hou can ye say ocht at is guid, whan ye ar ill yoursels? It is the hairt’s owrecome at gíes the mou its wurds. A guid man brings guid things out o the store o guid ithin him, an an ill man brings ill things out o the store o ill ithin him. But I tell ye at men will answer on the Day o Juidgement for ilka heedless wurd they hae spokken, for it is bi your wurds at ye will be assoilied, an bi your wurds at ye will be duimed.”

      SYNE A CURN Doctors o the Law an Pharisees said til him, “Maister, we want ye tae dae a míracle.”

      Jesus answert, “An ill-gíen, onfaithfu generâtion wad hae a míracle, na? A-weill, the ne’er a míracle will it get, binna the míracle o Jonah. As Jonah wis three days an three nichts i the wyme o the Whaul, een sae will the Son o Man be three days an three nichts i the hairt o the yird. The men o Níneveh will staund up at the Juidgement wi this generâtion an ⁴²duim it, for they repentit o their sins at Jonah’s preachin; an, tent ye, what ye hae here is mair nor onie Jonah. The Queen o the South Kintra will rise up at the Juidgement wi this generâtion an ⁴²duim it, for she cam frae the bounds o the yird tae hairken the wísdom o Solomon; an, tent ye, what ye hae here is mair nor onie Solomon.

      “Whan a foul spírit gaes outen a man, it raiks the muirs, seekin a howff tae rest in an, finndin nane naegate, says til itsel, ‘I s’ awà back til my ain houss at I quat.’ Sae back it gaes; an, finndin the houss staundin tuim an aa soopit an brawlie redd up, aff it gangs an feshes ither seiven spírits, ilkane waur nor itsel, an they aa gae ben an heft i the place. Sae yon man is waur aff nor he wis at the first, afore aa’s dune. An that is hou it is tae be wi this ill-gíen generâtion.”

      HE WIS EY speakin til the fowk, whan thair wis his mither an his brithers staundin outbye, seekin a wurd wi him. Someane tauld him: “Luik,” qo he, “your mither an your brithers is staundin thereout, seekin a wurd wi ye.”

      Jesus said tae the man at tauld him, “Wha is my mither? Wha is my brithers?”

      Syne he streikit out his haund an pointit at his disciples: “Thair,” qo he, “is my mither an my brithers. Onie-ane at dis the will o my Faither in heiven is my brither an sister an mither!”

      13 THAT SAME DAY Jesus gaed furth an sat doun at the Lochside, but sic a thrang o fowk gethert round about at he buid gang abuird a boat an lean him doun in it. The croud aa stuid on the shore, an he spak tae them in parables a lang while.

      “A sawer,” qo he, “gaed out tae saw his fíeld. As he sawed, some o the seeds fell alang the bauk, an the birds cam an gorbelt them up. Ithers fell on a hirstie bit, whaur there wisna muckle soil; an they shuitit up strecht awà, because they hed nae deepth o yird ablò them. Syne, whan the sun spealed the lift, they war birselt, an dowed awà for the want o ruits. Ithersome fell amang thrissles, an the thrissles grew up an chokkit them. But ither seed fell on bonnie grund, an gae a crap a hunderfauld, saxtiefauld, thertiefauld, biz what hed been sawn. Lat him at hes lugs in his heid listen weill!”

      The disciples cam an speired at him efterhin, “Hou is it ye speak tae the fowk in parables?”

      “Because,” qo he, “tae ye it is gíen tae ken the saicrets o the Kíngdom o Heiven, but tae them it isna.

      Til havers mair is gíen,

      till it faur owregangs their need:

      frae not-havers is taen

      een what they hae.

      Gin I speak tae them in parables, it is because they hae sicht, but seena, an hearin, but naither hear nor understaund. In them is fufilled the prophecie o Isaiah at says:

       ‘Ye sal hairken an better hairken

       an nocht forstaund,

       an glower an better glower

       an naething see;

       for drumlie i the wit this fowk hes grown

       an dull o hearin,

       an tichtlie their een hae they dittit,

       leist they suid see wi their een

       an hear wi their ears

       an forstaund wi their wit an turn back til me,

       an I suid hail them.’

      But happie ye for your een, at they see, an your ears, at they hear! Atweill, I tell ye, monie prophets an saunts greined tae see the things at ye see, an saw-them-na, an hear the things at ye hear, an heared-them-na!

      “Hairken ye nou till I redd ye the Parable o the Sawer. Whan onie-ane hears the Wurd o the Kíngdom an understaunds-it-na, the Ill Ane comes an cairries awà what wis sawn in his hairt. Siccan ane is the seed sawn alang the bauk. As tae the seed sawn on the hirstie bit, yon is the man at hears the Wurd an blythelie accèps it. But it stricks nae ruit in him, an he isna ane tae haud onie gate lang; an sae, whan afflíction or persecution maun be dree’d for the Wurd, he stoiters an faas. The seed sawn amang the thrissles is the man at hears the Wurd, but warldlie kyauch an care an the chaitrie glaumour o walth smoors the Wurd, an the crap misgíes aathegither. But the seed sawn on the bonnie grund is the man at hears an understaunds the Wurd, the man at beirs a crap, a hunderfauld, saxtiefauld, or thertiefauld, biz what wis sawn.”

      ANITHER PARABLE AT he laid doun til them wis this: “The Kíngdom o Heiven is like a man at sawed his fíeld wi guid seed. Syne, whiles fowk wis aa sleepin intil their beds, his ill-willer cam an sawed doite in amang the whyte, an wis aff an awà.

      “Whan the shuits hed brairdit, an the heids begoud tae bouk, the doite kythed amang the whyte. The ⁴³fairmservans cam an said til the guidman, ‘It wis guid seed ye sawed i your fíeld, wis it no, sir? Whaur’s aa thon doite come frae, than?’

      “ ‘This is some ill-willer’s wark,’ said he.

      “The fairmservans speired at him, ‘Will we gang an gether the doite?’

      “ ‘Na, fegs,’ said he; ‘whan ye war getherin the doite, I dout ye’d be puin up the whyte alang wi’d. Lat doite an whyte een grow thegither till hairst-time; whan hit comes, I s’ say til the shearers, “First gether the doite an binnd it in banyels tae be brunt, an syne gether the whyte intil my barn”.’ ”

      Anither parable at he laid doun til them wis this: “The Kíngdom o Heiven is like a curn o mustart-seed at a man tuik an sawed in his fíeld. Mustart is the littlest o aa seeds, but it grows up intil the mucklest gairden-yerb o them aa, a richt tree, at the birds o the lift comes an bíelds in its brainches.”

      This wis anither parable he tauld them: “The Kíngdom o Heiven is like barm at a wuman tuik an pat in amang a firlot o flour, tae tuive awà there or the haill daud o daich hed risen.”

      Aa this Jesus spak tae the croud in parables: deed, he spakna til them binna in parables. Sae it buid be, at the wurd o the Prophet micht be fufilled:

       I will apen my mouth in parables:

       I will tell out

       things hoddit frae the warld begoud.

      Syne he sent the croud their waas an himsel gaed hame. There his disciples cam an socht him tae lay out the Parable o the Doite i the Fíeld.

      “The sawer o the guid seed,” qo he, “is the Son o Man; the fíeld is the warld; the guid seed is the childer o the Kíngdom; the doite is the childer o the Ill Ane; the ill-willer at sawed it is the Deivil; the hairst is the end o the warld; the shearers is the angels. Een, than, as the doite is gethert an brunt i the fire, sae will it be at the end o the warld. The Son o Man will send out his angels, an they will gang throu the Kíngdom an gether aa them at gars ithers faa in sin an them at keepsna God’s law, an will cast them intil the bleezin kil’; an it’s there at the yaumer an the chirkin o teeth will be! Than will the richteous shíne out like the sun i the Kíngdom o their Faither. Lat him at hes

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