For Sunday, June 14, 2015 – Mark 4:26-34
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?
Yet I catch myself fretting about many things. Shall I randomly scatter the seeds I hold, or wait until I am in the right place at the right time with the right people? How will I know if I have the right kinds of seeds for God’s purposes? I do not see anything magical or divine about these little kernels of creativity I carry within me. If only you knew how ordinary and plain, how potentially impotent I am, you would understand why I am reluctant to release these seeds into the common soil where all will bear witness if they shrivel and die. Better to keep my fists clenched and refuse to let them go. Safer to pretend I have no seeds while I steal away and bury them in locked drawers of regret. I sleep uneasily and rise in fear and dread.
Jesus does not let me hide out in such crazy and complicated thinking. He says, trust the process. He says, open your hands. Release me into the whole of life. Let go of 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. Even the smallest of efforts, when sown extravagantly, grow into grand offerings. Your quiet hello to a stranger, your gesture of kindness in traffic, your kneeling before a child to see what she is seeing, your voice raised loud against injustice, your tiniest act of mercy—all are building nests for the 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.
