Tag Archives: Mark 4

Sow What?

Sow What? (CaD Mk 4) Wayfarer

Again [Jesus] said, “What shall we say the kingdom of God is like, or what parable shall we use to describe it? It is like a mustard seed, which is the smallest of all seeds on earth. Yet when planted, it grows and becomes the largest of all garden plants, with such big branches that the birds can perch in its shade.”
Mark 4:30-32 (NIV)

It is spring in Iowa, arguably the best place to grow things in the world. Growing up, the stated used the tag line: “A place to grow.” I always found this a great tag line full of metaphorical layers. I’m sad it got buried under slogans like “You make me smile!” and “We do amazing things with corn.”

Spring brings my perennial desire to plant something and make it grow. I have to confess that when it comes to being a child of Iowa I’m a bit of a prodigal. Growing things has never come naturally to me. I’ve done okay with my rosebushes, but I think it’s because they do well on their own despite me. Last spring we planted some herbs on the patio. I even got to use them to make fresh seasoning a few times before they died.

It’s a beautiful thing about the cycles of life, isn’t it? It is perennial. Hope springs eternal with Easter. Every spring the Cubs have a chance to win the World Series and I have a chance to successfully grow something. It doesn’t matter that the odds are 1:108. There’s still a chance, and each spring the hope is intoxicating.

Last year, Wendy and I bought actual herb plants. Undeterred by their premature death, I decided that this year we’re going to grow them from seeds. If I’m going to commit serial herbicide, I might as well make it more difficult. So, we got three grow-kits with pots, dirt, and seeds.

What struck me as I planted the seeds was how minuscule they were. Seriously, I felt like I was sprinkling dust particles in the dirt! I followed the instructions for watering and a week or so later Wendy and I went to the lake for a long weekend. When we got back, there were actual plants growing in two of the three pots. What did I do wrong with the third plant? I’m telling you: I can kill a plant before it even sprouts! When I contacted the grow-kit company I was told that sometimes you can get “bad seed.” I’m not sure what that means, but it felt like a pardon from the Governor. I sanded out a couple of notches off the handle of my garden trowel.

I thought about my little herb garden as I read today’s chapter. Jesus uses planting seeds as a word picture of God’s Kingdom. The seed can be as small as a speck of dust, but it can sprout and grow into something huge. Which is why earlier in the chapter Jesus told another story about a person who was sowing seed as they journeyed along. The seed was sown everywhere, which got me mulling this over.

Jesus told His followers that the seed is the Word. In the Great Story I learned that Jesus is the living Word and also incarnate Love. So, one way I sow the Word along my life journey is by sowing love that is joyful, peaceful, patient, kind, gentle, faithful, good, and self-controlled. In doing this, I’m scattering that hopeful possibility of spring that the seed might happen to fall upon a soul that it good soil for that seed to germinate and grow into something exponentially huge in relation to that little seed sown in a gentle word, a gesture of forgiveness, a random act of kindness, or a timely hug.

Of course, the Great Story also talks about bad seed that can equally be sown. The seeds of hatred, anger, malice, chaos, violence, rage, jealousy, envy, selfishness, dissension, and division. Bad seeds don’t grow much of anything.

In the quiet this morning, I find myself once again looking within and without. What am I sowing in my thoughts, words, actions, reactions, posts, tweets, replies, and comments? I look outward at the things I see in the media, on social media, and the people I “follow.” What is being sown? Good seed? Bad seed?

I don’t want to be judgmental, but I do want to be wise.

I can’t control others, but I can control myself.

I am embarking on yet another day. Day number 20,088 of my earthly journey.

It’s spring in Iowa. A place to grow.

What am I going to sow today?

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Seeds, Soil, and Fruit

Then Jesus said, “Whoever has ears to hear, let them hear.”
Mark 4:9 (NIV)

As I am fond of saying, God’s base language is metaphor. Jesus was famous for speaking in parables, similes, and word pictures. In today’s chapter, Mark chronicles four different parables. All of them are examples from the everyday life in the agrarian culture in which Jesus and His listeners lived:

  • A farmer sowing seed over his field and the different things that happen to the seed that is sown.
  • An oil lamp like the kind of lamp every one of Jesus’ listeners used in their homes at night.
  • Crops that grow to maturity and produce fruit despite the sower doing nothing other than scattering the seed.
  • A tiny mustard seed that grows into a giant tree.

I couldn’t help but be reminded of Romans 1:20 as I read:

For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse.

In the same way that an artist’s work reveals things about the artist, God’s creation reveals things about his divine nature. Jesus simply identified the ways that creation reveals truth of God’s Kingdom and turns them into a parable.

The thing I found myself contemplating this morning was the fact that Jesus knew not all of His listeners would hear and understand what He was getting at. Some would have the spiritual “ears” to hear what He was saying. Others would hear the words but be deaf to its meaning. Jesus accepts this as a matter of course and embraces it.

I became a follower of Jesus during my Freshman year of high school and was an active follower during those high school years. This past year I attended my 35th high school reunion and really enjoyed renewing acquaintances with my classmates. In the course of conversations, I got to hear stories of others who had themselves become followers on the course of their own journeys even though it happened on a different stretch of road than it did for me. Wendy has had similar experiences with former classmates and sorority sisters whom she has discovered became followers; Individuals she would have never expected to have any interest in spiritual things.

That’s the thing I’ve observed about soil as I’ve lived most of my life amidst the farm fields of Iowa. Some years a field might be less productive because it’s too wet, too dry, or the soil isn’t right. Another year, the soil might have changed because the farmer worked it a certain way and the weather cooperated so that it was ready to receive the seed and allow it to take root, grow, and produce. And, there’s another parable.

Not every heart is ready to hear or see at the same time. Some soil takes time and seasons of preparation. Jesus drew large crowds with His miracles. It’s easy to draw a crowd if you provide a good show. At the same time, Jesus knew that not every one in the audience was ready to hear and He was okay with that. He was speaking to the few who’s hearts were ready to receive the seeds He was planting. In another message He would identify them as those who were asking, seeking, and knocking. Not everyone is.

In the quiet this morning I find myself reminded of another parable that comes from my observations in the Iowa heartland. Fruit from one season becomes the seed for the next season. The spiritual fruit my life produces today in love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness and the self-control that I extend to others today is the seed that I scatter. Without me ever knowing it, some of that seed will land in a heart or life that is primed and ready to receive it. Based on Jesus’ example, that’s the way it works.

Chapter-a-Day Mark 4

source: Google Earth

Jesus said, “How can I describe the Kingdom of God? What story should I use to illustrate it? It is like a mustard seed planted in the ground. It is the smallest of all seeds, but it becomes the largest of all garden plants; it grows long branches, and birds can make nests in its shade.” Mark 4:30-32 (NLT)

In front of our house is a majestic oak tree. Its branches spread out over both our house and the house next door, and when you approach our house from down the street you can see the tree towering over our neighborhood. I’ve often wondered how long the tree has stood there. I sometimes imagine that it first emerged from the ground when Dutch settlers founded our town over a hundred and fifty years ago.

Each year, our tree drops acorns. Our tree drops a lot of acorns. In the late summer they begin dropping from the tree like little bombs shelling our roof around the clock. A fortunate family of squirrels incessantly patters across the roof right above my home office, gathering the acorns for winter storage. I suspect that our mighty oak tree alone feeds a whole pack of squirrels for the entire winter.

Some days I walk into the house, crunching acorn shells beneath my feet, and I think about those tiny little seeds. Our sprawling oak tree started out just like one of those small seeds I trample underfoot. Through harsh winter blizzards, sub-zero temperatures, violent spring thunderstorms, and blistering midwest doughts our tree has continued to slowly grow. Each year it experiences a cycle of death and rebirth. With each season the tree  puts roots deeper down into the Iowa soil to draw nourishment for its perpetual reach toward heaven.

I want to be like that old oak tree. Weathering all that life throws at me, I want to keep digging deeper so that I can continue reaching higher. As I grow, I want to spread myself out to shade and protect those around me. I want to provide for the little ones who scurry around, almost forgotten, at my feet. I want to offer a continuous supply of life giving oxygen for others to breathe. I hope that some day, when my trunk lays rotting on the ground, an entire forest will stand around me as a silent, living, and perpetuating memorial to this life that I have lived.