Brief synopsis of the readings: We begin with God speaking through the Old Testament prophet Ezekiel. God promises to “take from the crest of the cedar” and plant it so that all will dwell under it. It will produce fruit and provide a home for “every winged thing.” In Mark’s Gospel Jesus again speaks to the crowds. He describes the kingdom of God as seeds scattered by a farmer. The seeds sprout and grow even though the farmer doesn’t know how. The seeds grow and bear fruit on their own and when the growing is complete the farmer harvests the grain. Jesus then compared the kingdom of God to a mustard seed. It is the smallest of all seeds but grows to be the largest of plants. “[T]he birds of the sky can dwell in its shade.” Mark then explains that Jesus told parables so that those gathered could understand. “[B]ut to his own disciples he explained everything in private.”

One of the great challenges and joys of going to seminary is the opportunity to live and study with people of vastly different experiences and outlooks. That’s true almost everywhere in education but we all assume since we hold the same basic beliefs, studying the same thing (theology) and reaching for the same goal (ordination) we should be essentially alike. I say this because of a particular incident. I had a classmate who habitually slept as long as he could before racing through breakfast to get to class. One morning he happened to be up early and ran into another classmate of ours. “Dude,” he said, “you’re up early!” “No,” the other guys said, “I’m always up at this time but you never noticed because you were asleep. Stuff actually happens here when you’re not around.” It was a withering response but the first guy was self centered enough to believe that the only things that mattered happened when he was there. By the way, neither of them became priests.

This is a good reminder that God often works in ways that we can neither see nor understand. Farmers during the time of Ezekiel had a basic understanding of growing crops, or at least they knew what they needed to know. They knew that good seeds in good soil with enough water grow into the food they need to live. But they didn’t know as much as we know about plant cells and soil nutrients, about how sunlight, carbon dioxide and water become oxygen and sugar (in the form of grains, fruits and the like). Learning what we’ve learned has allowed us to become better and more successful farmers. And as much as we learn there is certainly more to the process that God knows that we don’t, even today.

Adding on to last week, it’s good that we try to understand the world around us. Improvements in plows in the Middle Ages increased food production and led to a decrease in famine. Discoveries of vaccinations have gone a long way toward eliminating illnesses and extending lifespans. Cancer and AIDS are not automatic death sentences that they used to be.

All this progress is good but it can also lead us to believe (or at least act like) we are ultimately in charge. It can make us think we control the future and decide how people and events will turn out. I think we’ve all had the experience of hearing someone tell us that we’ll never master this skill or understand that concept. Sometimes that has provided the motivation we’ve needed to prove them wrong.

Oftentimes this is the result of poor or lazy teaching but sometimes it’s also because others have put limits on us. Our first reading from Ezekiel sounds hopeful (and it is) but it was written at a dark time. The Israelites had been conquered and driven into exile in Babylon and their Temple had been destroyed. All that they valued about their life and worship was in danger. But the Babylonians weren’t in charge: God was. And the Israelites were saved from permanent exile when the Babylonians were themselves conquered by the Cyrus and the Persians. Their kingdom was restored and their Temple was rebuilt.

Like Ezekiel, farmers at the time of Jesus knew the “what” of cultivation but not much of the “how.” And no matter how much we learn more of the “how” we cannot completely know it. We can look at this with frustration or comfort. The frustration isn’t bad as it calls us to understand and I don’t wish to make this into “bad way” vs. “good way.” We need to keep understanding the process while also recognizing that as long as God knows the process we’re going to be fine. To quote the late football coach Vince Lombardi: “Perfection is not attainable, but if we chase perfection we can catch excellence.”

Now let’s loop it back to my experience in the seminary. By the end of our first year it was clear to us what everyone was going to turn out to be. And, in a few cases, we were dead wrong. I’m not going to name names so don’t ask but at least one of us did not look at all like priest material. I frankly didn’t think he’d even make it to ordination but today he is the pastor of a large and diverse parish. He has done an excellent job and often serves as advisor to the leaders of the community. There was something in him that none of us really saw. Well, except God.

I’ve said this before but characters in the Bible often use agricultural metaphors because that was familiar with them but not always to us. But at the end of the day our decision to follow Jesus means we need to balance our quest for understanding with the recognition that much will happen that we don’t recognize or understand. We need to balance ambition with humility. And that never gets easy.

But it’s worth it.