With a mighty heave, a seedling forces its first two little leaves above the soil. It needs all the energy it can get, so it can grow big and produce as many seeds as possible. Every moment is critical: a frost may put this plant’s efforts to a halt in less than four months. At this stage, every lush green solar panel it can grow will make a decisive difference in whether or not the plant will achieve its goal. Every root fibre it can force through the uncooperative ground is just as important, because mining essential minerals from the soil is very difficult for plants.
So why does this plant release much of its energy into the soil as sugars and fats? Shouldn’t it save every resource it has? Why should this plant bother to feed the hungry colony of microscopic bacteria and fungi beneath its feet?
As the plant struggles to push its roots through the stubborn soil, strands of fungi reach out to those roots. The fungi easily thread webs of mineral-mining hyphae through the soil. As the plant gives food to the fungi, the fungi bring mineral building blocks to the plant that it could never reach on its own.
I again read the message that nature illustrates in so many ways: “To give is to live.”
Jesus’ self-appointed task makes any of my goals look microscopically insignificant. Saving planet Earth would have been easy for Him. Saving its inhabitants is another story. And why should he care to save a bunch of selfish Earthlings like me, when He already had a heaven full of angels whose greatest joy was to do His bidding? Showing us His power would have been easy. Showing us His character was hard. He endured the hardest tests and trials so that we can know that He’s always trustworthy and good. Jesus showed us that, though He’s worthy of every gift, He delights to give.
He built mansions for us in Heaven. That was easy. Now He’s patiently trying to teach us that life here isn’t about a home in the suburbs, and life in Heaven isn’t about a mansion of gold. It’s about people. It’s about giving.