Planting Seeds [Proper 6B]

The Rev. Jeremiah Williamson

Mark 4:26-34 

Planting Seeds

Once upon a time there stood two majestic trees in front of my West Toledo house – at least that is what I am told.  They have been gone for eight long years – two years before my wife and I purchased our home.  They once lived in that grassy strip of land between the sidewalk and the curb, which according to the internets has dozens of regional names, everything from tree lawn, verge, berm to Devil's Strip, but apparently no official name.

At the closing, we met the previous owners of our home, Mr. and Mrs. Flis.  In between signing papers and writing checks and receiving keys, we had the opportunity to talk with the Flises.  They told us about their home of 52 years, and how they raised five children in that home, and how those children walked to church and school at St. Pius – just a few blocks away.  Decades of memories and love were attached to the home; the walls were saturated with stories – some funny, some painful, most mundane, but all special.  It was hard to leave.  As Mrs. Flis, let a few small tears escape her eyes, she told us they were moving to a one-story condo in Sylvania – something they could more easily maintain in their senior years.  And then, for our information, she told us that the city had removed two big old trees from the grassy strip between the sidewalk and the curb; I don't remember what she called it.  The city assured them: a new tree would arrive any day now.

A few years passed.  Jen and I settled into home ownership.  We replaced a furnace; we planted some flowers; I unclogged the drains – a lot.  But the grassy strip remained tree-less; no one would call our strip a tree lawn.

One day, a few years ago, I passed some men from the Department of Forestry planting trees along a road just a few blocks east of our home.  And so, I stopped my car and asked one of the workers about the replacement tree that had yet to arrive.  He told me to call Forestry.   They love to give out trees to homeowners who actually want them, he said.  Great.  So I called.  I was put on the list.

The next year I called again.  I still had no tree and apparently I was no longer on the list.  So, I was put back on the list.

Still no tree, but the next summer, the Forestry guys were trimming branches on our street.  I talked to them again.  They gave me a name of a guy who, they promised, really loved to give away trees.  I called, left messages, never heard back.  Still no tree.

The tree was still on a list though – the to-do list on our refrigerator.  And so a couple of months ago, my wife called the Forestry folks again – hoping to get an item off of the list.  Much to our surprise, they called her back.  The new head of the department promised to come to our home to talk trees just a few days later – Friday morning at 9am.

On Friday at 1:30pm he arrived to talk trees.  He did forget his list of tree options, but he marked the spot with the heel of his shoe.  On Monday, the tree arrived.  It was not the tree we chose; it was the tree they had.  But a fine tree, nonetheless.  And, after eight long years, the promise made to Mr. and Mrs. Flis was accomplished.

In the process of planting the tree, the digger noticed that the city never filled in the hole from eight years earlier and decided to fill it in with the soil that was removed in the tree planting process.  So he filled it in and told me to plant some grass seed.

I had never before grown grass – at least not on purpose.  I prepared the soil – raked and spread and smoothed.  I had some old grass seed in a closet and so I put it down and watered it.  Day after day, I watered what turned out to be old, dead grass seed.  Old, dead grass does not grow grass, by the way.  My neighbor, who was successfully, and brazenly, growing new grass across the street from my dead grass seed, suggested I try some new grass seed.

That sounded like a good idea.  So I purchased new seed.  I scattered it on the ground.  Each day I watered it; I watched over it like a fussy parent.  Day after day, I did what the directions directed.  And day after day I was greeted with grass seed and soil – no grass.  I was defeated by grass seed again, I thought.  Old, dead seed won't grow; I get that; but I could not even grow new grass seed – not even the kind with the guarantee on the package.  I confessed my failure to a good friend – he himself a grower of grass seed.  He acted empathetic; he probably just felt sorry for me.

I was losing hope, but I kept watering the soil. What I didn’t know was: under the ground, out of sight, something was happening. And one day, just beyond the 5-10 day window for new growth promised by the package, I saw the sprouts – little baby blades of grass thinly covering the patch of soil.  It had sprouted; it was growing; I do not know how.  I went to get the family, to share the good news. 

Even when I could not see any growth, I kept watering, kept hoping, kept believing that something would happen.  And it did.  The seed did sprout and grow.  And according to Jesus, this is what the Kingdom of God is like. 

The Episcopal Church recently released a report entitled, “New Facts on Episcopal Church Growth and Decline.”  There is a lot of talk about the decline in church attendance in the US – including within the Episcopal Church.  People are chatting about it, holding conferences about it, blogging and blogging and blogging about the decline of the Church, the impending death of the Church.  While some of the dour predictions and doomed diagnoses are hyperbolic, the truth is, according to the survey, only about 20% of Episcopal Churches are experiencing growth in their Sunday morning attendance numbers; 45% are declining; the remaining 35% are currently plateaued.

And because growth is so rare and decline so much more common, not just in the Episcopal Church but in most denominations, Church leaders and denominational offices release a seemingly endless supply of church growth materials – programs to follow, secrets to success, fertilizer, really, for the congregation.

The Episcopal Church study, though, is not another fertilizer.  Instead, the survey looked at growing congregations and asked why; what did growing congregation have in common; in what ways are growing congregations different from declining congregations? 

There are, of course, demographic issues: churches in growing communities are more likely to grow; churches in declining population centers are more likely to decline.  Some things are beyond the control of a parish; those factors can either help or hinder growth.

But what I found most interesting was that the most important factors had nothing to do with location and everything to do with the Gospel of Jesus.  Congregations that are focused on Kingdom of God work tend to grow.  Churches that believe in and practice reconciliation grow.  Churches mired in conflict don't.  Churches that are “spiritually vital and alive” grow.  Churches that make disciples of Jesus, that value Christian education and formation, for children and teens and adults, grow.  Churches that value community, that intentionally draw people into the life of the church grow.

These Christian practices are impossible to fake; love, reconciliation, discipleship: they have to come from the heart.  They are the fruit of authentic Christian communities committed to the Gospel of Jesus.  Of course churches are looking for easy answers – like building a bigger parking lot or producing a slick ad campaign.  Being a Christian community of reconciliation, vitality, and love is hard work. 

And all of that hard work does not even guarantee big Sunday attendance numbers; it doesn't even guarantee long-term survival for an individual parish. But when it comes down to it, we are not called to preserve any single institution; we are called proclaim the Kingdom of God; we are called to follow Jesus; we are called to live out the Gospel. All we can do is prepare the soil, scatter the seed, provide the water, do the work to which we are called, and trust that God will make something happen.

We are simply called to be faithful ministers of the Gospel of Jesus.  Even when it seems that the seeds will never sprout, our calling is the same.  We plant seeds.  God gives the growth. 

Even in an age of church decline, growth is possible.  We are witnessing that here at St. Andrew's.  And I think we are growing because we are doing those things I mentioned – and not because it is a good church growth strategy but because that is what the Gospel requires of us; it comes from the heart. 

Being a Christian community that values and practices reconciliation, vitality, and love is hard work. It requires us to really put our heart into in. But God is calling us to this work.  It is Gospel work.  And the survey says: people are looking for churches that are focused on the work of the Gospel. 

So rather than worry about programs or secrets to success, let's just be about the Gospel of Jesus.  Let's plant some seeds and see what God might grow.