Bishop Goff's Meditation for the Sixth Week After Pentecost: A Sower Went Out to Sow

This season, I never went out and sowed or planted a thing in our city yard. Between Covid-19 and my continuing cancer treatment, I haven’t gotten to the nursery or the box store to pick up my usual annual supply of marigolds and impatiens and salvia. I never did till the soil and sow the seeds that would add a rich variety of color to the lush greenness of the garden. And yet, there is color and texture and wonder. The perennials that have been there for a decade multiplied many times over this year. Native plants have had their way, including some I’d never seen before. The purples and yellows and oranges of flowers that have grown on their own, without my planting or planning or intervening, fill my spirit with thanksgiving. I never went out to sow any seeds, and yet they grew.

The seeds that I have tried to be intentional about sowing this season are of a different kind. They are named in the prayer attributed to St. Francis of Assisi. Where there is hatred, let me sow love with wild abandon. Let me toss seeds of love far and wide, not knowing where they will land or where they might take root. Let me just fling them out as if there is an endless supply - because in Christ Jesus, there is. 

Where there is injury, let me scatter seeds of pardon. Whether I caused the injury or not, let me sling forgiveness far and wide.

Where there is discord, let me hurl harmony. Because I don’t have all that much harmony of my own, let it be God’s oneness that I broadcast to the world. 

Where there is doubt, let me pitch seeds and signs of faith. 

Where there is despair, let me grab hold of hope in Christ and pour it into the world with reckless unrestraint.   

Where there is darkness, in every place of shadows, let me launch a healing salve of light. 

Where there is sadness, let me juggle joy until it falls to the ground and bounces up again alive and full and good. 

Let me strew seeds and signs of God’s gifts everywhere. Let me scatter and litter the world with them. Because if the flowers in my garden grow even when I don’t sow them, how much more will God’s gifts of hope and light and love and joy take root when I do scatter them far and wide? 

Lord, you have made us instruments of your peace. Use us in ways simple and profound to scatter and sow the wonders of your grace. Then bless those wonders so that they may take root in this world that is so in need of your healing, life-giving presence. Amen.