John Chapman (1774-1845) was a strange bird indeed. Living on the unsettled plains of the countryside between Pennsylvania and Indiana, he traveled entirely by foot and had virtually no possessions. He wore old clothes which became rags; loved the plants and animals of nature; befriended settlers and Native Americans; had no permanent home; often slept on the bare ground; preached the Gospel wherever he went; and planted seeds. These seeds, which he collected at no cost from cider mills, were meant to grow apple trees. Other seeds – his preaching and faithful witness to the Gospel – were meant to grow godly souls. Although many of those seeds came to naught, others flourished to become orchards, to help establish property lines for settlers, and to grow into devout believers. Hundreds of people remembered him, with love, by his nickname – Johnny Appleseed.
Next Sunday’s Gospel (Matthew 13:1-9, 18-33) is the well-known parable of the sower and the seed. I’ve been reflecting on the lessons it continues to teach us, even as we wander in the wilderness during this time of isolation.
In his New Seeds of Contemplation, the Trappist monk Thomas Merton says: “Every moment and every event of every person’s life on earth plants something in her or his soul. For just as the wind carries thousands of winged seeds, so each moment brings with it germs of spiritual vitality that come to rest imperceptibly in the minds and wills of men and women. Most of these unnumbered seeds perish and are lost, for such seeds as these cannot spring up anywhere except in the good soil of freedom, spontaneity and love.”
What does this tell us? I think we are constantly offered opportunities for growth and service (seeds); and it’s up to us to recognize them and to seek ways to share God’s love (soil) through them. What kind of soil are we — good or bad, rock-filled or thorn-infested? What sort of harvest can we produce?
To draw on another parable, are we able to differentiate between the good seeds of love and the harmful seeds of hatred, prejudice, and self-centeredness?
Think: how have you have been the sower; the seed; the soil. How many seeds have we sown or have we received which are waiting to flourish or to die? What is God calling each of us to do now with our wild and wonderful lives?
On our daily walks, Marilyn and I enjoy a lovely English flower garden in a neighbor’s yard. On the curb, growing through a crack in the solid concrete, is a single flower (a cleome hassleriana, or spider plant) of the same type as those in the garden. I find this flower a metaphor of hope – somehow a seed found its way underneath that concrete to soil which nurtured it.
May we nurture those good seeds offered to us. And may we find hope in the midst of this wilderness.
In God’s love,
David
Here’s a vintage song, “The Sower,” by folk singer Pete Seeger. Enjoy: