Oh my, I had a wonderful vacation. My initial plan was to spend the whole week in the garden, weeding and planting, digging and watering. It just sounded like heaven to me. What really was heaven was the ability to be mostly schedule-free for the majority of the week. Those of you who are retired know what I mean. Not having to be in an office or set appointments or block out times for meetings. With few exceptions, I was free to do what I wanted, whenever I wanted, as inspiration led. No details to juggle, no plans to make, no expectations to meet. Just peace and freedom and relaxation. Pure enjoyment. That was the plan.
And then something wonderful came along to add a little more color to it all. My granddaughter and I were texting, and we decided to do some campus visits to schools she might be interested in attending next year. So my week took on a slightly different shape than I initial envisioned. The long drives were full of leisurely conversation and the visits were inspiring and hopeful. I felt encouraged, seeing how colleges we visited are adapting to connect with the real needs of students today, helping them develop their skills, find their passions, and prepare to solve the world problems our generation is leaving in their hands.
The whole week seemed to be about tending and nurturing, whether the recipients of that love were plants or people or possibilities. Everything living has its own lifecycle and needs care and tending in order to thrive and flourish. A plant needs good soil, enough water and sunshine, as well as a way to keep the thirsty weeds from crowding in and stealing the resources it needs to blossom. The people in our lives need our care, our understanding and encouragement, so they feel loved and strong enough to take risks and grow. They need support and sometimes protection and practical help, but mostly they need our belief in "that of God" in them—their soul-level capacity to choose goodness, to care about things that have value, to grow into people who carry the light of love and the grace of kindness out into our world. And possibilities need our tending, too, if they are to ever grow up into the programs, plans, opportunities, and projects their potentials point out.
Life itself is an unstoppable principle of growth that has an amazing, undaunted strength that will not be denied. You know this if you have bushes to trim. This week it took me three days and approximately 20 moves of the ladder to trim a single bush that has been trying to consume the front of my house. I really love that ginormous bush because it contains a whole ecosystem. Inside the bush is a bird feeder and a small bird bath, right by the porch. Dozens of sparrows and wrens and finches—and the occasional cardinal—come for breakfast each day. I treat the bush with care and respect but it does need a haircut every so often and that's often an ordeal and a multi-day challenge.
But the force of life is persistent, unstoppable, exuberant, and exponential. It flows, it winds, it climbs, it blossoms. It sends out seeds on the wind, looking for new lands. It communicates through the forest floor in miles of entwined roots and mosses. Life chatters and sings, chirps and buzzes. Rarely silent, always growing, celebrating the livingness and growingness of the gift and power of life.
In the Talmud there is a line: "Over every blade of grass an angel bends, whispering, "Grow! Grow! Grow!" I love the idea being that God celebrates the goodness of life and yearns for all living beings to realize their full potential of joy and extension. Perhaps, on one level, the growingness of things is the Joy of God.
Our Old Testament reading today comes from chapter 55 of the book of Isaiah. In earlier Isaiah, we hear about how angry and fed up God has been with the people for their hardheartedness and lack of belief, but this chapter paints a picture of promise and comfort, reminding us of God's care, power, and goodness. This passage begins by reminding us that our human thoughts are limited and partial—we see through a mirror darkly—while the thoughts of God are whole, boundless, without any of the limits, divisions, and judgments our little minds create:
As the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways
and my thoughts than your thoughts.
As the rain and the snow
come down from heaven,
and do not return to it
without watering the earth
and making it bud and flourish,
so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater,
so is my word that goes out from my mouth:
It will not return to me empty,
but will accomplish what I desire
and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.
Isn't that an amazing passage? Beginning with that reminder that God's thoughts are infinitely greater and wiser and more whole than our own, the passage says clearly that God's plans will be fulfilled in us. God's word doesn't return empty, without accomplishing the goal, errand, or purpose God assigned it. It's not a question of "if," as it seems to be in this real—if we'll be able to achieve something, if good will finally win—but rather a question of "when." If we open our minds to God's thoughts, and move with the flow of God's goodness rather than against it, who knows what might be accomplished in us? And how soon?
And what does the writer mean here, by God's word? Biblical scholars often point to Christ as the living Word of God sent to bring us back into relationship with the source of Life and Love. But there are other ways to look at this too. What about God's word of Life, established in the seed of the flower? With the right conditions, that seed sprouts, puts down roots, and begins its growth toward the sun. God's word does not return empty but accomplishes the good growing work that God has assigned to it.
And what about the way our bodies heal? This week during my bush-pruning time I was skewered by a pointed branch and before I knew it, blood was running down my forearm toward my wrist. I calmly went inside, got a damp cloth, and put pressure on the puncture for 60 seconds or so. When I peeked at it, the bleeding had mostly stopped. A few minutes later, I was back outside pruning bushes again, like it hadn't happened. Cuts and scrapes, burns and bumps heal so quickly! With just a little tending, all is well again. Perhaps that's because God's word of abundant, growing life is in us all, helping us heal, bringing us back to balance when challenges come. God's word doesn't return void. It will always accomplish what God has given it to do—we just need to cooperate with, and not impede, the process.
And we can also consider the changes that happen in our lives over time. We are always growing and learning, changing and adapting. Resilience is perhaps our greatest, life-affirming trait. Just a glance back at your own life will tell you the story. It seems like just yesterday my granddaughter was arranging her stuffed animals in a fort under the dining room table, getting ready for naptime, and yet last Thursday she drove me back from Earlham College, where we'd gone for a campus visit. So much change! And growth! Wonder. And possibility. How does it happen? The good word of God's ever-expanding love is forever at work in us, helping us grow and change, inspiring our interests and our blossoming compassion, removing any obstacles that trap us in small, negative thinking, blocking our ability to love and bless. That of God in us is God's word, alive and well, waiting to accomplish its good and loving purpose through and with and for us all.
And that brings us to the Parable of the Talents. I've heard that people by and large aren't crazy about this parable because at first reading, it seems to be punishing the person who doesn't have much. Isn't he just trying to be a good steward and take care of what he has been given? If you've ever lived on a tight budget, worrying about making ends meet, you can probably relate. The last thing we need in that situation is judgment.
But when we back up a bit and consider this story from another angle, a different meaning emerges. First, a talent back in Biblical times weighed about 80 pounds and was worth around 6,000 denari, which was equal to the pay for approximately 20 years' worth of work. This was no small sum! The master gave each of the servants a certain amount, "according to his ability," the story says. The man given five talents put them to work and earned five more; the man given two talents likewise used what he was given and earned two more. But the man given one was afraid—both of the character of the master and of the risk he'd been handed—and he dug a hole in the ground and hid the talent where he thought nothing would happen to it.
It's easy to see here which one of these people was motivated by fear; fear of failure, fear of authority, fear of the unknown. The man with one talent chose not to take the risk of using that talent to grow its worth—he was too frightened that something bad might happen, so he dug a hole and put it in the ground and covered it up. Out of sight, and out of mind.
But when he does that, he's interrupting the flow of God's goodness. Putting a blessing in our own pocket takes it out of circulation, where it's meant to be shared. That's how the Light of God flourishes and expands, blessing more and more people as it goes. It's an inherent principle in God's love—it must given freely if it is to grow. When we aren't willing to share our gifts—by passing the peace, shining the light, sharing the love—we are at odds with God's purpose. We are being boulders in the stream while life flows on all around us.
If we let ourselves be held back by fear—fear of the world, fear of our own weaknesses, fear of failure, fear of taking a chance—we will never know what God's love could accomplish through us. There is such a huge difference between doing things from a place of love or doing things out of fear. We all know it; we've all felt it. For example, we can buy someone a gift because we love her and want her to be happy, or we can buy her a gift because she'll be mad if we don't. Two completely different experiences! Which one feels better to our hearts? Which one shares a word of God?
It's worth considering what talents God has given us that we could be sharing with others today. Those Words of God in us won't return empty—they will accomplish their purpose through us, sooner or later. Chances are, we can look back over our lives and see evidence of the types of needs and issues that have stirred our hearts. It could be that that's where Spirit has been inspiring us to share the qualities of God we possess.
Our Quaker testimonies can give us a good place to begin as we consider this. If it's important to us to keep life as clear and simple as we can—Simplicity might what God is speaking through us to others. If we feel upset by the conflict and acrimony and distrust in our world today, or we feel led to pray for calm and peace and harmony in the midst of trouble, God may be inspiring us to do what we can for Peace. "Blessed are the peacemakers," Jesus said, "for they shall be called the children of God."
Maybe we repeatedly find ourselves having to speak the truth when it seems nobody else will; in that case, the testimony of Integrity might be the way God is blessing the world through us. If we care about the health and vitality of our communities and feel inspired to pray for their growth and flourishing, the testimony of Community might be the word God has placed on our hearts. And if we feel a burden for those who suffer the effects of injustice and inequality and exclusionary practices in our society today, God's Word for us may be Equality, and our good efforts can flow toward honoring, loving, and advocating for "that of God" in everyone. And if we feel a responsibility to care well—with respect and honor and faith—for all we've been given, treating our planet kindly, using our resources wisely, helping others understand and adopt better practices, God may be speaking a word of Stewardship through our lives, inspiring others to care with reverence for all we've been given.
Whatever Word God speaks through us today, we can trust that it will bless not only us but all those around us, if we allow it to work through our lives in love and faith. Let's not discourage ourselves with doubt and disbelief, or bury our talents in a hole in the ground, but encourage one another to recognize and share all the good that God has done, is doing, and will do through us. God's word will not return empty. This is good news! We just need to be willing to dig up those talents and take the risk of sharing them with the world.
In closing I offer this lovely poem from Mary Oliver. It says something to me of the Word of Life God speaks into everything living, inspiring all beings—including us—to share all we can, all we're given, in the name of Love:
Even now
I remember something
the way a flower
in a jar of water
remembers its life
in the perfect garden
the way a flower
in a jar of water
remembers its life
as a closed seed
the way a flower
in a jar of water
steadies itself
remembering itself
long ago
the plunging roots
the gravel the rain
the glossy stem
the wings of the leaves
the swords of the leaves
rising and clashing
for the rose of the sun
the salt of the stars
the crown of the wind
the beds of the clouds
the blue dream
the unbreakable circle.
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