Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. – John 12:24
Friday, March 13, 2015
Planting the Corn
Twice yesterday from very different sources this metaphor came up. I decided I should probably consider it.
A seed typically has the actual germ surrounded by something that protects, feeds, and sustains it. The germ is transformed into the new plant, while the seed coat provides the initial nourishment that allows the sprout to break through into the light. In the process, the body of the seed is consumed. Without the dying and decay of the seed body, there will be no new life, no growth, no bloom, no fruit, no harvest.
There are wealthy individuals today funding research they hope will extend their lives and perhaps even grant them immortality. I find this sort of desperation poignantly amusing. Observe an elderly person in good health, especially one in good spiritual health, and you will catch a glimpse of immortality. Like a bean from which the germ has sprouted, the body of such a person is diminishing, but something about that one is stretching up toward the light of heaven.
A sower went out to sow … the kingdom of God is as if a man should scatter wheat on the ground …
God planted a garden.
Imagine that a grain of barley became self-aware. What would that seed think of being buried, of having clods thrown upon his head, of the darkness in which he lay, of the rains violating him and breaking open his body? Would not our little barley seed (shall we call him John?) think himself sorely tried and troubled? Would he not possibly suffer great fear and anguish entombed in his dark dungeon? Would he not rejoice when he saw, at last, his destiny?