Why is it so easy to grow weeds?
I went out to the children's garden today; besides the sage seedlings, oregano plant, Tiger Lily, Sweet William and iris experiments I've brought from my tiny garden at home and planted, I have to confess that the children's garden is a garden of weeds. And these weeds are growing and doing fine. As far as I know, no one planted them--every single one is a stout, persistent volunteer. None of them needs water, pruning (heaven help you if you do that!), fertilizer (the present weeds take all the nutrients available and believe me, there are few in that soil), or light--no matter how many pounds of mulch I layer on top, the weeds find their way up without breaking a sweat. In contrast, if I look crossways at what I planted on purpose, they all melt to dust before my eyes.
I mentioned it to a friend this morning, and he suggested that there's a sermon or two right there. So I'm thinking-- what word about weeds would cause the heart to sprout good plants? Can a sermon about weeds even do that?? Would we be better off if we thought of ourselves as weeds rather than exotic or even ordinary plants? Would that help us be heartier, more persistent, more difficult if not impossible to kill, almost eternal? The thing is, though weeds seem live forever, nothing comes of them; they're basically pigs the way they hog space and nutrients and, at best, are food for pigs (should be evident here that I'm not so hot on weeds today). So no, we shouldn't liken ourselves in any way to weeds--even if we like the flowers some of them produce.
Jesus compares those who want to follow him to branches on a
grapevine—branches that are subject to a master gardener (not me) who uses
scissors and spades and who guarantees fruit with only one caveat—the branch
must remain in the vine. Basically,
there are two choices for the branch—either stay put and bear fruit or burn. But for the gardener it means endless
love and care, though little patience with fruitless growth. And of course the mature fruit from the
nurtured branch will eventually become wine—or maybe grape pie (see recipe
below).
And what becomes of the weeds? As far as I know, weeds don’t enter into the
story of the vine and the branches (see John 15); they do, however, enter the story of
the wheat and the tares (weeds) in another place—and while the weeds in that story are given a hiatus until the wheat becomes full grown, they eventually burn.
By the way, in a new video, my daughter captured some of the frustration known to every gardener-- you might relate. And you might not.
Grape Pie Recipe
http://www.bhg.com/recipe/pies/concord-grape-pie/
Kara's Video
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