Planting Seeds
Dear Friends,
In our reading for this Sunday, Jesus teaches a simple way to help grow the realm of God. Simple, yet surprisingly difficult to live. “The kingdom of God,” he says, “is as if someone scatters seed on the ground, then sleeps and rises, sleeps and rises, until the seed sprouts and grows.” The one planting the seed, he says, does not even know how this happens. The planter simply releases the seed; then sleeps and rises. Just as the earth simply releases nutrients into the seed, which sleeps and rises. How much easier could the whole process be?
As I move through the slow process of recovery from back surgery, one that has taken far longer than I could have imagined, these words of Jesus are particularly pointed. Not only for my recovery from surgery, but for all the things in my life that were dismantled or lay fallow during this past year of pandemic, including our corporate worship inside the church. As we begin to gather in person again, some of us there on some Sundays, others of us on other Sundays, not necessarily seeing one another, but sensing the presence of those we know and love, we are all aware that our restoration will be gradual.
However, if you are any type of workaholic or perfectionist, like I am, then you know how difficult the word “gradual” can be, and with it, the whole idea in Jesus’ parable of a sleeping gardener. In the words of writer Debie Thomas, “good gardeners don’t toss a bunch of seeds into their backyards and then snooze away the growing season. They plan, plod, and hover,…they water, they fertilize, they prune, they weed, and they worry.”
But the gardener in Jesus’s parable? He sleeps. He doesn’t micro-manage. He doesn’t second-guess. Instead, he enjoys the rest that comes from leaning into a process that is ancient, mysterious, cyclical, and sure. He trusts the seeds. He trusts the soil. He trusts the sun, the shade, the clouds, the rain. Yes, he participates in the process by planting and harvesting, and gets to work when the time is ripe. But he never harbors the illusion that he's in charge; he knows that he's operating in a realm of mystery. In this story of the kingdom, it is not our anxious striving that causes us to grow and thrive in God’s garden. It is grace alone.”*
As we move into this time of recovery and re-entry together, I invite us all to trust the slow, often invisible process of growth and new life. Scatter the seeds you have been given. Do whatever is yours to do today, then sleep well. Get up tomorrow, rested and free, to begin again. Trust that even the smallest of efforts, when sown extravagantly, grow into grand offerings. Whether it is showing up at a sick friend’s doorstep, coming to church on Sunday, or gathering with our siblings at St. Peter’s on June 19th to raise our voices for justice and mercy. All are building nests for a new community to perch among us, making space for God’s realm to grow strong in. Trust the natural unfolding of God’s life in our midst.
In Christ,
Amelie
