Blowing in the Wind: The Life of a Mustard Seed

(This Lord’s Day I will share a little bit about my spiritual journey.)

A year ago when I was here I shared a couple of morning devotions with the evangelists in a village. These evangelists are the church representatives in surrounding sub-villages. They rise daily to make the two hour walk in the dark for the 5:30 am prayer time. I got up 20 minutes earlier, splashed water on my face and walked over to the church. They were always there already, in unaccompanied song as the faint light of morning was just visible on the horizon. It was beautiful.

One of these devotions I shared was about the mustard seed. It was a good thought then but it has come back to me again with more meaning than ever. In his very brief parable Jesus said,

(The kingdom of heaven) is like a mustard seed, which a man took and threw into his own garden; and it grew and became a tree, and THE BIRDS OF THE AIR NESTED IN ITS BRANCHES.

In this above quote from Luke (13:19), the whole parable is complete in one sentence. Appropriate, since Jesus is talking about this tiny seed.

When we read this, we usually think that it is about the fact of the small becoming big. This is true, but not the way we expect. To understand requires a little ancient Jewish culture. The mustard plant was actually subject to certain Jewish planting regulations. It could not be put in your regular garden because it was ‘unclean’ to mix it with other garden plants. In Luke’s version, the man actually throws it in the garden. In the other gospel versions they are bit more cautious, the seed is just planted – perhaps according to the separation regulations. Luke, who is great at telling parables, doesn’t want us to miss the point.

If you knew much about mustard, you would immediately see why. Mustard is a pernicious weed. It spreads like crazy. You don’t want it in your garden or anywhere near because it will take over.

In the parable, Jesus calls it a tree. This is an example of his humor (much like his carpenter humor about ‘If you have a log in your eye how can you take the sawdust out of your neighbor’s eye?’) The mustard plant is not a tree; it’s not even a respectable bush. But it is a large garden plant, big enough to support the birds. Oh, and that part about the birds. Notice it is capitalized above. That’s because my bible references it as a quote from the Old Testament. In Ezekiel, Israel is compared to the Cedars of Lebanon, stately and magnificent and a symbol of the country to this day. These are the cedars where birds can nest. Jesus is emphasizing his point: the kingdom of heaven is not about being stately; it’s more like a weed. You can’t control its spread as it invades gardens everywhere.

So, it is about the small becoming big, but as I said, not the way you might expect.

(The weeds – and the children – are the only things left growing in this field of maize. The rains failed this year and food shortages and famine are expected to be widespread as the limited harvest becomes consumed.)

That’s what I found last year. This year I am seeing more.

Because I am identifying with the mustard seed.

I am feeling very small: traveling alone in a large country, distant from home, distant from familiar things, on a project where it seems that I must be arrogant or crazy to even attempt. Yes, there are many days I feel very small.

Smallness is the mustard seed’s advantage. It’s how it is blown around. It’s why it’s an uncontrollable weed.

Important people in Tanzania are often called ‘big potatoes’ (kiazi kubwa). That’s a kind of seed, too. And it is a tough seed to move naturally. When I am holding on to my own way, wanting my familiar places and ways of doing things, and puffed with my own importance, then I am being a big potato and it is difficult for God to move me. It is when I become small that I am moveable. Then I become most usable by God.

I love gospel paradoxes. Smallness is the way to bigness.

(The failed crops in a poor family’s field.)

And I feel blown by the wind into strange gardens where in many ways I don’t belong. I’m being planted in ways that some might find both figuratively and literally ‘unclean’. At the same time I feel a new purity in my life that is exhilarating. I used to see purity as some kind of inner piousness. Now I see purity as something that is bigger than me that I can dwell in. It’s a place where my will is aligned with God’s purpose.

It’s a garden where weeds like me can thrive.

(Growing weeds highlight this picture of Iringa town…And for everyone a “time to every purpose under heaven.”)

From John’s gospel there is another brief parable of Jesus that pairs well with the mustard seed:

“The wind blows where it wishes and you hear the sound of it, but do not know where it comes from and where it is going; so is everyone who is born of the Spirit."

Here in the church hostel in Iringa town I have lain in the dark many nights, listening to the blowing wind. I often awake in the morning, yet again surprised by where I find myself.