Motivation Monday – What You Need to Believe About Seeds Buried in Sorrow
“I am so sorry. I am full of faith that the God who reconciled all things to Himself through Jesus is not done with us. He is not done with me.
”
At Gather, we are called in this season to champion truth, challenge inequity (gender, race and class) and change our nation and our world. We say that. We believe that. At the same time we are faced with the challenge of not wanting to be political or add more rhetoric to the voices already out there across Canada seeking justice.
Sometimes, however, it is appropriate to add our voice as a movement, as we ask what Jesus would do in a world wrought with suffering, inequity and injustice. We know that Jesus would have compassion.
I was gripped by the words from this stunning worship song from Elevation and Maverick worship:
“Every seed buried in sorrow, you will call forth in its time.”
I have been thinking of all the sorrow. All that has been lost. All that has been buried by ourselves or by the global pandemic over the last eighteen months.
There are two ways seeds are buried.
We bury seeds of promise ourselves, believing for the hope of all we hold dear. We may be disappointed when there is no fruit that rises out of our effort when we most expected it. And we, slowly, day by day, begin to also bury our hope.
Seeds are also buried brutally and violently without our consent. They are thrown to the ground, stepped on and covered with blackness. We watch powerless as the dark forces around us crush humanity, based on judgements that some of us are worth more than others. We are either the wrong gender, the wrong people group, or in the wrong socio-economic class to warrant equal treatment.
The unpalatable truth is that 215 and then 751 more of these seeds, and more to come, full of life, full of promise, were buried in sorrow with unthinkable disregard for their beautiful human potential.
Indigenous children were robbed of the nurturing and well-watered environment in which they could flourish.
And so we must stand. We raise our hands in protest. We declare the injustice for the one child robbed of life and dignity and a future, and with each declaration from our lips, represent the name of One. More. Child.
We mourn for the thousands. We say no more. Not on our watch.
And we set out on the complicated path of truth and reconciliation as best we can in our sphere of influence.
More importantly, we believe that the harvest will come. We believe the healing of all nations will come. The reconciliation of perpetrators whether intentional or complicit - with the victims – will come.
And we dare to look in the face of those we have not honoured with love and compassion. Those that have been diminished because of their gender. Those that have suffered discrimination because of their race. Those that cannot speak or do for themselves because they have not had the resources or access. We extend our hand and raise them up to the full calling of human dignity and equity. And we allow them to pull us down from our lofty places in humility.
I am so sorry. I am full of faith that the God who reconciled all things to Himself through Jesus is not done with us. He is not done with me.
In fact, dare we hope that this may be the beginning of the harvest of the seeds buried in sorrow?
Dear sisters and brothers, ask for what you need from me. I stand with you. I grieve with you. I mourn with you. With the limited understanding I have, teach me. Call me up to truth and raise me up to be a champion for your victory so we stand as one. Someday must be one day must be day one. Today.
Only Jesus can harvest the fruit from the seeds buried in sorrow. His Resurrected Life is proof that the deepest sorrow, the greatest pain, cannot prevent the stone to be rolled away from the grave, and all that has been buried to rise to new life.
May justice flow like a river and righteousness like a never ending stream (Amos 5:24).
May it be so in this generation, on our watch, in Jesus’ name.
Every child matters.
I believe in you!
Cathie