Whole Heart

In the synoptic gospel of Mark, there is an account of Jesus telling a story. This is nothing new or challenging. Jesus told many stories and typically that is not the point of contention when one evaluates the merit of him as a historical figure. Nevertheless, the story was a very simple lesson in farming. It went like this.

A man wanted to plant seed. He threw it everywhere and thus it landed everywhere: on or near the road, in the rocks, in the thorns, and in the dirt. Again, not an incredibly controversial story given the real backdrop of the sea and surrounding hillsides. It was basic farming. It was so basic and so elementary that even those closest to Jesus had to ask what it really meant. Of course he goes on to provide a fairly detailed definition for what the story as a parable really means: there are those with no depth; there are those with some depth but its too crowded by concern and care of other things; and then finally there are those with real depth or ‘good soil’. Now ‘good’ does not equate holiness or religious zeal or even good character as we use the term today. Instead, the ‘good soil’ was simply the earth, free from that which would hinder a seed from taking root. And that which would hinder is that which would distract. Thus, real depth, or ‘good soil’, is equated to the mark of one’s willingness, not the mark of one’s character. The farmer threw life everywhere, but only a select few places would accept.

I recently heard someone say that holiness begins with wholeheartedness–which does not mean being completely good, but being completely sincere with God. I immediately thought of this story that Jesus shared with his followers. Again, it’s simplicity far exceeds our greatest intellectual attempts to analyze all of the various elements of the geography. Jesus gave us the story and gave us the meaning: no more can a doctor treat an unwilling patient than a farmer produce a crop from an unwilling land. It was not a parable on readiness or cleanliness. It was a story on being wholehearted. Those at the end of the rope find the Father’s house (Matthew 5:3 Message translation). And I would argue if you’ve reached the end of the rope, then you’ve traveled the rope. Or in farming terms: you’ve turned over a lot of dirt to understand the need for something beyond distractions. If being wholehearted is the beginning of holiness, then acceptance is the beginning of wholeheartedness.

However, acceptance is not merely acknowledgment of our own defectiveness–for that would really be describing a long defeat. Acceptance is responding to an invitation: properly dressed or not, you have opened the door after surveying the lot of your own capacities and accepted what appears to be life.

And thankfully there was much life in those places that accepted the farmer.