The Priest and The Farmer
On Monday morning
before the sun rose
the priest walked to the edge of town
to inquire about a farmer’s absence from church that Sunday
the farmer ducked his head
but it became apparent from the priest direction his intention
the farmer waited for the priest to greet him
but instead of returning the greeting
the farmer spoke these words
I know much of farming, it is my life much as God’s work is yours
I know from farming that the numinous pulse
that drives the seed to the surface is not a fear of the dark earth nor is it the want of water
but the love of light
the hope that it might grow
to be rich
or heroic like David or Samson
or old with someone by it’s side
or closer to the heaven of God or the God of heaven
The seed may not die out of it’s thirst for survival
striving against the terror of suffocation
but it will not bear fruit without expecting a state of fruition
without desiring it’s fulfillment
without trusting fruit will come in it’s own season
in its own time
And then he added
When I was a child
I could not imagine growing old
as a young man I began to understand my aging
and as I became a man I began to understand that I would die
perhaps as I am dying I will conceive of a heaven
but i, like you, have much work till then
The priest was taken back by farmers direct words
and he thought he moment before turning back around and returning to his parish
as he left the sun began to rise
