"...We know that the one who raised Jesus from the dead will raise us also with Jesus, and will bring us with you into his presence. Yes, everything is for your sake, so that grace, as it extends to more and more people, may increase thanksgiving, to the glory of God. So we do not lose heart. Even though our outer nature is wasting away, our inner nature is being renewed day by day." [2 Corinthians 4:14-16]
What's the point of a seed?
Like, in the deep down, reason-for-existence sense? What is a seed for?
Well, as anyone who has made it through their second-grade science unit on plants can surely tell you, seeds are meant to become plants... which grow, blossom, produce seeds, and then allow for new plants in new places. A seed gives it self away to give rise to a plant... the plant spends its energy and fuel to produce a flower, perhaps... the flower surrenders itself to produce seeds... and new seeds start the cycle all over again. Life is a circular dance of self-giving that allows for new things to come into their own, to have a moment in the sun, and then those new things give themselves away in turn to give life to something else.
A seed, then, isn't just a starting point or an end point, but a step in the dance. It has beauty and worth by itself, but it becomes even more fully what it was meant for when it surrenders to the soil and breaks open for life to arise. And a flower isn't an "end point," either, but a moment in the cycle that points forward to the emergence of new seeds, new plants, and new life.
Life itself is woven through with the workings of self-giving... and that is what makes life a glorious miracle. The dandelions in my yard may not feel emotions like we do, but their very life-cycle feels like a reflection of love--the way love doesn't grab for itself, but revels in giving itself away... and is at its most beautiful and glorious when it does.
It seems that the early Christian community understood itself that way, too--that our place in the world is to be a presence of gloriously joyful self-giving. My purpose isn't to consume and consume endlessly, but to give myself away for the sake of spreading life to others... and then they in turn are meant to give themselves away to reach out further and wider. My words, actions, and choices are meant to help bring others around me more fully to life--and then those others, like a new harvest of seeds, are meant to rise, grow, and blossom, so that they can spread life to others around them, too. In other words, as long as we are in this life, the community called "church" doesn't have an endpoint, but rather continually exists for the sake of giving itself away in order to bring others more fully to life.
Sometime I think we forget that. We forget both that the larger thing called "church" is not an end-point, and we forget that each of our own individual lives are meant to be seeds that help bring others to life, too. We forget that the point of our own existence is to get to be a part of God's work restoring all creation into glorious newness, one little resurrection at a time.
Our vision can be so small when we are so forgetful. We settle for thinking that the point of the church is simply to get "bigger" for the sake of being bigger--that we have should youth ministries just for the hope of being impressive like the other churches (or the "bigger" churches) around us... you know, to compete for our spot in the market (and we don't question why we accept that market-place thinking in the first place). Or we think about music styles and instruments only in terms of, "What kind of music, or what kinds of songs, will get the most people to come?" rather than, "How can we most fully give ourselves away to God in praise, and what songs would shape us to become better at loving others rightly?" We can be hesitant about speaking up for others because we are afraid of becoming unpopular (and ask the "What if some people don't like it?" sorts of questions), rather than seeing advocacy as a way of spending ourselves for others in love.
Same in our individual lives--as long as I see myself as the end-point, I'm really missing out on the point of my own life. If I'm centered on, "How can I get the bigger house... or the newer car?" I'll find myself disappointed even if I get those things. If all I can aim for is, "How can I get my social life and my relationships to make me happy?" I'm still treating myself like I'm the end-point, like a seed thinking its own existence is the goal, rather than a new beginning that gives itself away to bring others more fully to life. And if I see my job solely in terms of how I can get the most money, nicest perks, or best benefits package, rather than doing something of worth that helps others, I'm still settling for less than what the meaning of my life really is. We don't exist for ourselves alone--we come fully to life when our lives are an ongoing cycle of blossoming and being broken open to bring others more fully to life. And both are glorious.
As Paul sees it, he is willing to spend his energy, his time, his heartache, and his life for the sake of the believers in Corinth, because he knows his own life isn't and end-point. He is a seed, which makes possible other plants. And as they flower and the new seeds they produce germinate, the Corinthians will bring others to life, and outward and onward it goes. And at every turn, there can be gratitude to God--the God who calls forth life out of the ground, the God who makes flowers to burst open with color, the God who sends the wind and birds to scatter new seed. That's the great mystery we call life--it's not reaching an end-point and calling yourself victorious for achieving X or Y or Z; it's about how you spend yourself giving yourself away in love, and finding yourself more fully alive in the giving, rather than in the rat race of endless acquisition and consumption.
Maybe it's worth asking today what we are really chasing after in this life. Maybe it's worth asking why we do what we do, why we are choosing what we choose, and what we are giving our energy and time and love to. Because if everything is pointed in toward "Me," I will find I am sadly missing out on what the whole point has been all along.
You and I are seeds. We are blossoms. We are a part of a greater and grander and more glorious mystery called Life that includes all of us but stretches out infinitely wider than any of us alone. Thanks be to God for that glorious mystery.
Lord God, bring us more fully to life by making us able to give ourselves away.
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