From Parables and Portraits, by Stephen Mitchell

A sower went forth to sow.  Some of his seeds fell upon stony .places.  Centuries passed; millennia.  And the seeds remained.  And the stones crumbled and became good soil, and the seeds brought forth fruit.

“Wait a minute,” said one listener.  “You can’t play fast and loose that way with natural facts.  The seeds would die long before the soil could receive them.”

“Why should they die?”

“Because they can’t hold out in stony places, for thousands of years.”

“But, my dear, what kind of seeds do you think we’re talking about?”