Silence and Action VII (Haas)

I bring low the high tree, I make high the low tree . . . 

 - From Ezekiel 17

Over the past two weeks, I have been putting in my garden. 

I make it sound like it's something I always do. It's not. My Dad always puts in a garden. That is, until his death fourteen months ago. The only year he missed, was 2016, the last summer of his life. From 1972 until 2015, every summer, he put in a garden on about a quarter-acre. The size of the garden decreased each year, until 2015, when he planted a few tomato plants and squashes. That year I contributed some carrots, okra, and peas (which were consumed by rabbits before we could enjoy them).

But this year, I planted. I have done everything using manual (non-powered) tools. I hoed and chopped up three rows so far, that are planted with corn. After the fourth row, I will plant some potatoes, and then put in some rows of okra. With whatever space is left, I may do some pumpkins, just for fun. My space is about a sixteenth of an acre. The goal is to get it all in, and all of my sunflower seeds planted, by the 27th: one week prior to July 4th. Yes, it's late. It may not all grow up in time. 

But gardening, it seems, is mostly about the waiting. You wait and you hope. You put the effort to get the seed in the ground . . . and then you wait and see. It's no wonder farmer's tend to be good church-goers. Once you've done your part, it's up to God. 

Yesterday, I noticed my first couple of corn plants breaking through. Fascinating. 

Society today mocks the idea of "thoughts and prayers." As a celebrity said "I want action." 

What would action look like to a gardener that has planted everything, and gets impatient? 

Maybe, after two days, I wonder if I planted the seed too deep. I go and dig up several seeds and look them over. Maybe I soak them in some water and replant them.

Maybe after two weeks, they don't seem big enough. And besides I want to eat some corn as soon as it's possible. I dig up all the little blades of grass . . . maybe I need to soak them some more. Maybe the're no good. Maybe I'm just curious to see what they look like. 

After a couple months, the corn stalks begin to emerge. These little embryonic ears are starting. I can't wait to eat some, so I pick them off, shuck them . . . just to see what's in there and if I can eat some. 

See what I'm doing there? We are all more than familiar with the fable of the goose that laid the golden egg. This is the same lesson. But we forget to apply it to modern times. 

The gardener has to wait. He has to be patient. When we pray that God protect kids in our schools, and that He change the hearts of kids, their parents, their teachers, and society itself, that is the seed being planted. It's not back-breaking work, as it is to hoe a row. (But you'd think it is, by how infrequently we do it). But prayer is the seed . . . and now we must wait. 

But shouldn't we do something? Yes, we should . . . but we do all the time. Our acts of kindness, our affirming of others, our adherence to what's right, our own exercising of patience and best practices . . . this is the weeding and watering that may be required along the way. We respond to the growth of weeds, or the drying of the plants. And God has provided what we need to address those problems. Waiting is the same as being watchful, and being ready. 

Social Justice is going to happen. God said He will make the small trees big, and the big trees small. But for us it takes patience, and trust, and faith . . . and a responsive spirit to the opportunities around us, to tend God's garden.