Today’s find: Blood seed

You have some time to think, as your blood flows into a collection bag.

It’s darker than you expect, for one thing – several shades off the bright red that appears when a finger is nicked or a razor cuts too close. No doubt, this reflects the chemical reaction caused when corpuscle meets ambient oxygen. So you think: blood must be doing its work with noticeably less pizzazz inside your body – coursing along in a rather humdrum hue as it’s taking care of business.

You notice signage, too, like that logo on the wall – a gift from the graduating class of a grade school that no longer exists. You think about where those kids are today. And your own kids, who graduated from the same school many years before. You think about how time passes, and things never remain the same.

“Perishable” reads the legend on the outside of the carton where your pint-of-collected-blood is headed next. “That’s me,” you think. “Perishable.” My shelf-life certainly isn’t as long as it used to be … and it may not be as long as I expect it to be.

A time to think…about Father’s Day, perhaps…

It’s a sobering thought, and one that makes you much less inclined to dwell on the inconvenience of participating in a blood drive. Annoyance quickly gives way to gratitude. My life, this moment, these corpuscles – all of it is gift. All of it is precious. All of it ought to be shared as widely as I am capable of sharing it.

Gratitude then shifts into wonder: Who will be on the receiving end? The blood I have been given, and am now giving, into whom shall it flow? What’s her story, or his? And: “May God bless them, just as God has blessed me” with health and healing.

“It’s all out of my hands now,” you think. And then, you recall Jesus saying “the kingdom of God is like this.”

[It’s] as if someone would scatter seed on the ground and would sleep and rise night and day, and the seed would sprout and grow, he does not know how. The earth produces of itself, first the stalk, then the head, then the full grain in the head. But when the grain is ripe, at once he goes in with the sickle, because the harvest has come.

I’ve long been haunted by the wisdom in this parable – haunted and consoled. I love the reassurance it provides that God is always at work, making the Kingdom to sprout and grow, we do not know how. I love, too, how it assumes our agency – the fact that God invites us to scatter, to participate in the work. At the same time, I wrestle with the parable’s inherent mystery – the notion that we can only wait once our work is done. Ultimately God’s reign will be brought about by God, and God alone.

It’s a great parable for Father’s Day, isn’t it? It reveals how God’s creative power is ever at work in us, perhaps especially those of us who are blessed to be Dads.

At the same time, it reminds us to be patient … and humble … and awestruck … by the entire spectacular process through which our blood-seed comes ‘round to flourish in the world.

Let us pause now…to recall that we are in the presence of the Holy & Merciful One.

IHS

PS: In your kindness, may I ask you to pray for my friend Brad? He is himself a loving and devoted Dad who was involved in a very serious auto accident on Friday – his car T-boned by a concrete-mixer truck that ran a red light. Brad suffered significant trauma in the wreck … and faces multiple surgeries on his road to recovery. Brad and I share a devotion to St. Jude, so perhaps keep this prayer on your lips for his recovery in the coming weeks and months.

Prayer to St. Jude for Physical Healing
St. Jude, you witnessed the healing power of our Lord Jesus.  You saw His compassion for the sick and dying. You yourself touched the sick, shared the sorrows of the mournful, and encouraged the despairing. You received this authority and healing power to work wonders, to cure the incurable, to make people whole. We ask you to intercede with our brother, the Lord Jesus, to send His saving grace to heal the sickness and suffering of Brad, to uplift his spirit, and to instill hope in his heart. Amen.