The Reign of God: Something New Under the Sun!

Mark 4:26-34


For the first time, I planted a garden this spring. Oh, I grew up watching my dad tend a huge plot in our back yard. During late summer and fall we always enjoyed the fruits of his labor. Tomatoes and zucchini and peppers and potatoes were ours in abundance to eat and give away. And yet, until this spring I either didn't have the space, or the sunlight, or the will to do so. What a wonder it has been already to walk into my back yard in the early morning and at dusk to watch as these seeds sprout and grow. Yes, I built the boxes and filled them with the right combination of peat moss and manure and vermiculite. Yes, I pressed the seeds into the earth. Yes, I have checked every day to see if they have enough water. And yes, I have been diligent in pulling up the silver maple seedlings which are everywhere this year. Still, it was with no small measure of awe that I took the picture here. For while I had put things in place, the actual growth of a squash seed is still a mystery isn't it?  As much as we can perhaps understand and explain it, we can't ever fully comprehend it, can we?

So it is that Jesus compares the Reign of God to such as this today. And I wonder now just what he is getting at...

• I mean, is he trying to point out for us the utter mystery of it? Or is it that the Reign of God comes regardless of whether or not we know how it happens?
• Is it that we are to simply pay attention to the results of the in-breaking of God into our world? Is it God's gift of the harvest, whatever that includes, that is ours to receive and celebrate?
• Is it that we, like the farmer in our parable now, are somehow partners with God in bringing in the Kingdom? I mean, the farmer did scatter the seed. And the farmer did reap the grain once the harvest came. No, the farmer did not make it grow, but the farmer was surely in on it. 
• Or is it simply in the ordinariness of all these things and their coming together in unique and life-giving ways? Is it also possible that the Reign of God is right here in our midst --- that we just need to be about "planting seeds in rich earth where the sun shines and where water is adequate?" Is it possible that in the same way with the Reign of God we have, by God's generous hand, already been given all that we need for it to come in all its fullness?  Again, not by our doing, but somehow with our partnership?

Indeed, as I consider this now I think of the way I am called to partner in 'bringing the Reign of God near' week after week --- in my preaching.  For you see, truly, for as long as I can remember, most of the time in much the same way that my garden growing seems mysterious and almost inexplicable to me, I have found this to be so when I craft a sermon. Oh, I 'make the conditions right,' yes. I 'scatter seeds' by finding time early in the week to read the assigned texts, I peruse the commentaries, I let it mull, for days sometimes.  And then, somehow, it seems to come together. In fact, I was struck a few days ago by the similarity of my own experience to Stephen King's take on where story ideas come from in his On Writing where he asserts, 

Let's get one thing clear right now, shall we? There is no Idea Dump, no Story Central, no Island of the Buried Bestsellers; good story ideas seem to come quite literally from nowhere, sailing at you right out of the empty sky: two previously unrelated ideas come together and make something new under the sun. Your job isn't to find these ideas but to recognize them when they show up. (King, p. 37)

And so do you suppose that this may be exactly how it is with the Reign of God? For it is, indeed, about previously unrelated ideas coming together, yes? And isn't it simply our job to recognize it when it shows up? And then somehow seek to be a part of it growing and flourishing?

I mean, think of it with me. Seed and soil, sunshine and rain are entirely different elements --- but they come together to make something 'new under the sun.'  And as for this business of the Reign of God? Don't we somehow know its nearness best whenever unrelated things come together? Line when we experience kindness in unexpected places, healing where there was only brokenness, selflessness among human beings for whom selfishness is our instinct, courage where fear would be more reasonable, generosity when our first impulse is to keep the best for ourselves, life where there was only death?  And when they come together don't we also experience something entirely 'new under the sun?'  Do you suppose that was what Jesus was getting at when he told the stories before us now?

• It seems there is an abundance of learning that is ours to receive from Jesus' comparison of the coming of God's Reign to a farmer who sleeps and rises, night and day and knows not how the seed sprouts and grows.  Indeed, even the fact that Jesus' story telling here causes us to observe this in the world in new ways strikes me as 'something new under the sun.' What do you think?
• What experiences of gardening --- of watching seeds sprout and grow --- do you bring to this week's Gospel? How does what you already know about these matters inform your take on this Gospel?
• I am told that Stephen King's On Writing has been used in seminary preaching classes. Have you read it? If so, have you found it helpful as you have thought about preaching and proclaiming the Good News?

On Volunteer Tomatoes and the Kingdom of God...

.Mark 4:26-34

This is a great lesson for those of us who are living in farm country at this time of year, for the image Jesus offers now abounds all around us.  Now I have to say that I’m not much of a gardener myself, but friends everywhere are putting their energy into the annual task of sowing seeds and planting seedlings and tending to watering and putting up fences trying to keep out various pests on four legs which would rob them of their much anticipated harvest.

Even so, I do know that such efforts require dedication and sometimes just plain hard work.  I used to watch my dad get the rototiller out every spring and dig up the huge expanse of garden in our back yard where he would spend time most every summer evening.   I also remember it seemed to be a labor of love for him, for he took great pride in the buckets of tomatoes and overgrown zucchini he would give away come August.  I remember, too, the delight he took in the ‘volunteer tomatoes’ which he hadn’t planted but which had miraculously found life via seeds inadvertently left behind from the previous fall’s harvest.  He would laugh, pointing out how they would show up in odd, but expected places, like the compost pile.  It was clear that the fruit of those plants was all the more wondrous for his having nothing to do with their being.

We shared together in a ‘blessing of summer’ last Sunday morning at worship.  Various ones among us brought in symbols of summer.  We had a pair of sandals and a beach towel.  There were a couple of bicycle helmets, some grass clippers, a GPS unit and some sidewalk chalk.  One very hopeful fan brought in a Chicago Cubs t-shirt, for whom no amount of blessing is likely to help this season!  And one of our farmers brought in three bags of seeds:  one of corn, another of beans, and another of wheat.  After worship, I bumped into him following our coffee hour.  He had all three bags in hand.  His eyes were dancing and there was a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he said to me, “Now all I have to do is leave these be, right?  Since they’ve been blessed they should just grow all on their own!”  We both laughed then for we knew he wasn’t serious.

And  yet, although that’s not quite what our Gospel lesson would have us do with the ‘Kingdom Seeds’ Jesus speaks of here, it’s pretty close.  And I believe this still speaks even though our practice of farming or gardening differs greatly from how it would have been in Jesus' time.  For even though unlike in the time of Jesus, today one may spend time and other more sophisticated resources tilling the earth, testing the soil, and guarding against weeds and other pests, there is still mystery in how a seed actually grows.  We can control many things.  We may be able to enhance a seed's ability to take root and grow.  But you and I?  No matter how hard we may try, in the end we can't make it happen. 

And, in fact, the parable offered this week has the seed being scattered but after that, until the harvest the farmer’s effort is negligible.  Indeed, the emphasis in Jesus’ image today is on what God does when we’re not looking; on all that happens for which you and I cannot begin to take credit.  To be sure, this parable points to the hope that belongs to us all because of our confidence that God is working even or especially when we're not looking, in ways mysterious and profound.

And so it is I’ve always taken Jesus’ words today as wonderful encouragement to simply do what it is I’m called to do and let the rest go.  For there is much I have no control over.  And thankfully, there is a also great deal in our experience that tells us that God is working even when we can’t yet see it. 

And yet, I confess that I am also still learning to trust that this is so.  I tend, still, to try to carry far too much responsibility for what is and for what could yet be.  I wonder how much more energy I might have to simply do my part if I learned to rely more fully on the hope I've been given...if I learned more surely, along with the farmer in Jesus' parable today, to simply scatter the seed and then truly leave the rest to God?  

• And I wonder now especially just what this would look like with the children we are called to mentor in faith and in life? 
• I wonder what this would look like when I get up to preach again in a few days.  Or plan a stewardship series.  Or bless a Vacation Bible School Staff.
• I wonder what this looks like in a difficult encounter with a co-worker. 
• I wonder what this would look like in my conversation with a neighbor for whom faith seems to have little value or meaning.  

I wonder what it would look like to simply scatter seeds and then trust God with the rest.

Some questions to ponder...

1. Why are 'volunteer tomatoes' more delightful than those we plant on purpose?  How does this image live for you in your life of faith? Where have you experienced and rejoiced in 'volunteer tomatoes?'
2. What would it mean for you to 'scatter the seed' and leave the rest to God?  What are you struggling with in your life today for which this bit of wisdom might just speak?
3. What are the seeds we are called to scatter?  Does it make sense to equate these seeds simply with God's love?  (John 15:12-17) What does that love look like in the situation you find yourself challenged to respond to today?
4. Who have been the gardeners in your life who have scattered 'kingdom seeds' which have taken root in you?  How did you experience God making them grow?