Proper 6(B): The Kingdom of God and the Sown Seed
By: The Rev. Jim Dahlin
One of my favorite books is Good Omens, a humorous take on the apocalypse written by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman. The two best characters are an angel and a demon who have been working for their respective ‘sides’ undercover, posing as humans—for millennia. They share a lot in common and end up occasionally getting together to vent about their bosses, life on Earth, and the peculiarity of humans. They’re astounded by what humans find as miraculous. We see the image of the Virgin Mary in a piece of toast and praise God for the bountiful blessing. Instead, the angel and demon think humans should be astounded that a seed put in the ground eventually becomes a vine that grows grapes—and it does it every year! That’s a miracle. Existence as we experience it every moment of every day is the miracle. And we humans seem to take it for granted.
In 18th and 19th century England, two new inventions revolutionized agriculture. The first invention came about around 1700. It was called a Seed Drill and it allowed farmers to plant seeds directly into the soil instead of scattering them about and hoping (and praying) for them to grow. This seemingly minor invention improved seed yield and helped mitigate for bad growing seasons. The second invention came in the 1800s when farmers realized they could plant turnips, clover or some other similar crop, and it would replenish the soil significantly better than the traditional method of letting half the land lay fallow every three years. In fact, researchers estimate that between 1480 and 1700 about 1 in 4 growing years were considered “bad,” and 1 in 5 were considered “catastrophically bad.” Jumping from such a low yield (and at the mercy of really bad growing seasons) to a higher yield and more diverse, predictable crop growth made many farmers incredibly wealthy. It ushered in a new era of wealth and prosperity in England.
We live in the shadow of those inventions that helped mitigate poor growing seasons and our latest technology has only added to our agriculture production. In fact, a few years ago, the American Midwest experienced a near record drought and thousands of acres yielded poor returns. Yet, I still went to the grocery store and bought corn, strawberries, apples, etc. Perhaps I paid an extra dollar or so, but I don’t remember “feeling” the result of the drought. For most of us in America, we don’t worry about the weather affecting our food supply. In a way, we don’t need faith in order to eat. We thank God for our food, but do we really feel that our sustenance is provided by God? I remember an episode of the Simpsons when they asked Bart to bless the meal and he said, “Dear God, we paid for all this food, so thanks for nothing!” Does a part of us tend to think that way, even if we don’t consciously admit it?
In the Gospel reading from Mark, Jesus describes the Kingdom of God as someone who scatters seed on the ground, then anxiously watches for the seed to grow. The text says the farmer got up night and day, monitoring the status of the crops. Finally, after anxiously watching the crops grow into plants and come to fruition, the farmer grabs the sickle because the harvest time has come. This all raises the question: How do we relate to this farmer when most of us live so disconnected from the stress of possible food insecurity? Jesus is describing a scenario where someone with land and seeds and seeming resources still lives exposed to the whims of the elements. And what are we to make of the fact that Jesus tells this parable to explain the kingdom of God?
Perhaps we are the fickle crops planted by the triune God, anxiously hoping and praying that we will grow? I often feel blown about by the whims of the elements of daily life, distracted or intentionally avoiding that which will make me grow.
The second agricultural parable explaining the kingdom of God has to do with the mustard seed. It’s this tiny thing that is planted in the ground, watered and somehow becomes a large plant. (I’m not going to address the scientific accuracy of the parables claims of a mustard seed being the smallest and then becoming extremely large. I feel that distracts from the point of the parable.) This reminds me of the quotation from Good Omens about the daily miracles that we fail to notice. What habits and practices will form us into a people who recognizes the micro-miracles of daily life? Not just a ‘spend less time on Facebook’ or ‘stop and smell the roses’, although those are part of it, rather a shift in how we interact with the world. I think consistently gathering with other Christians in order to faithfully worship God is formative. As an Episcopal priest, I would recommend weekly Eucharist as formation in the kingdom of God.
The Gospel passage gives us two parables on the Kingdom of God. Taken together, these parables encourage us to faithfully and continually grow while becoming a people who sees the micro-miracles in everyday life. This involves some intentionality and work on our part. For example, I can’t just whine about my poor prayer life (which it is), I have to take agency and designate an extra few minutes each morning to prayer. It also involves intentionally noticing the flowering world around us and praising God. It involves a deep seated thanks to God for the profound and bountiful blessings of this life! These are practices that must be continually cultivated over the course of our Christian lives. Amen.
The Rev. Jim Dahlin is Rector of St. Mary’s & St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church in the foothills of the Blue Ridge mountains in Morganton, North Carolina. Despite looking like the bad guy in every World War II movie, his racially diverse, loving congregation has embraced him as they seek to faithfully worship God and figure out what it means to confess the Christian faith. Jim loves a challenging hike, a good pint of beer, riding his motorcycle and laughing. He is new to ordained ministry, but has been educated at various seminaries.
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