June 16, 2024

         I grow my veggies in my backyard in 4 raised beds.  One is devoted to strawberries.  Yes, I know it isn't a veggie.  In another I put a pile of straw and goat manure from a neighbor.  Under the straw I have planted a packet of old bean seeds to see if anything will happen.  Near my clothesline I have a bed of radishes, from the radishes I planted last year that went to seed.  In that same bed are peas, patty pan squash, cucumber, lettuce, and parsley.  Near the house I have my tomato plants, grown from seed.  It's been a few years since this has been successful.  I germinated my seeds first in a paper towel and it seems to have made all the difference.  These plants are 6 or 7 inches now, all cherry tomato plants because I am impatient and slicing tomatoes take so long.  Among the tomatoes is one little kale plant, a volunteer, green and strong, doing it's thing.  The Kingdom of God is like that volunteer kale plant, planted by God, out of place, strong and green.  It is surprising and unexpected.  It is out of our control.  It is a gift, a blessing.

Last year the kale grew easily and strong in that bed.  I had forgotten that I even had it planted there.  It's back to remind me of last year's blessing and that sometimes blessings continue unexpectedly.  It is there to remind me that God is growing my garden, not me, and that God is blessing all of us.  It is there to remind me to look for the blessings and give credit and thanks to God.

The seed falls the ground and dies and then is raised.  The plants had gone to seed and died and I took them out and put something else in.  The plants were far from my mind, the smoothies Nick made us last year before I came in to work.  Now it is back to remind me of last year's blessing.  The winter was harsh, the ice storm.  This seed has laid in the ground, seemingly dead, but all that while, life and possibility are there.

The farmer scatters the seed.  How can we send out seeds, throw our ideas out there where they might grow?  Where is the potential, the possibility of growth and grace?  How can we let go of our rows and allow for the chaos of scattering? 

The seed dies and is buried.  We don't see it for a while but that doesn't mean nothing is happening.  We experience many deaths.  Some are from our friends, yet they have planted seeds.  Some of their ministries still continue.  Their children and grandchildren are likely doing something fruitful.  We might remember fondly their gifts and feel inspired.  Some deaths are of the way we've always done things.  They are a letting go of control.  They are a waiting patiently and trusting that growth can happen, that God can handle it.  Some of these deaths might be a decline of health for any of us.  Some might be a handing on of ministries we've held tightly to so another leader can emerge.  This death might be an invitation, leaving space for what is next.  This time of letting go is gift and grace and blessing.

The seeds grow, we know not how.  We might want to give someone credit besides God.  We might feel proud.  We might feel joyful and hopeful.  This is part of the circle of life, the cycle of seasons, the blessing.  We anticipate, we hope because we can see.

What is our best example?  The mustard seed!  This is unexpected because this is not a plant you love to see coming up in your garden.  This a dandelion.  This is morning glory winding and choking out other plants.  This is Himalayan blackberry that you've pulled and burned and dug and sheet mulched and yet here it is!  What has been unwanted is taking over.  Yay, Kingdom of God, invasive and persistent and full of life and yes the berries are delicious but for heaven's sake!

It is unexpected and surprising because The seed is small and plentiful.  You can barely see it.  You almost can't even tell it is there.  It scatters itself.  It doesn't need any help.  These seeds make your food taste good.  A little goes a long way.  A tiny pinch are ground with your mortar and pestle and they give flavor to your meal, to your life.  I heard a story about plentiful seeds this week.  One year at Holden Village, where our youth visited last year, they had plentiful and too many zucchini so they fed them to the deer.  The deer happily ate them.  The next year they found zucchini plants growing absolutely everywhere.  The deer had not digested the seeds, so they had spread them along with some really rich manure and now the zucchini crop was completely overwhelming.  That's what the Kingdom of God is like.

It is unexpected and surprising because it grows a mustard bush, and Jesus praises it!  It doesn't grow a cedar of Lebanon.  It doesn't grow something majestic or pretty.  It grows a bush.  But this bush has worth, not just to humans for flavor, but to birds for shelter and food.  Here is a creature of little value to humans.  This creature matters to God.  This creature has become a role model, teaching us not to worry, not to hoard things, to live one day at a time.  Consider the birds of the air who neither sow nor reap, yet God takes care of them.  Here they are nesting in your weedy bush and providing fertilizer so the mustard bush can grow strong and give them more shelter.

God is scattering seeds in our midst.  What will grow and where?  Will we be ready for it?  Will we see the blessing in it or will it freak us out?  We are invited to scatter seeds.  What will grow and where?  Are we ready to let go?  Are we ready to take risks to let go of the seeds and wait patiently?  Are we ready to let something die to make room for something to live or to be resurrected?  Are we open to God's possibilities and surprises and growth and death and manure?  Are we ready to learn from the birds and the weeds, to let them be our teachers?  Will we let ourselves be surprised and delighted?

Long ago another kind of unexpected tree held the savior of the world.  He died there in agony.  His followers were scared.  They laid him in a tomb and grieved the possibilities extinguished, the hope that was gone, their friend who had stood up to the powers of violence and control.  And then they stood in a garden on that Easter day.  There was life there.  There was a little hint of growth.  Something was emerging from the soil.  God had been at work all along.  Now we know Jesus is risen and growing in our lives.  May we let ourselves be surprised, weedy, bushes.  May we provide shelter and scatter seeds with abandon.  May we trust and hope and wait and die with faith.  May we be resurrected to new life.