Being a City Plant
Yesterday morning Phil shared a verse with me that he was mulling over from Romans 12:
Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer (12:12).
We discussed how this passage, among many others in the Bible, assumes that we will experience affliction. And, while we often think about periods of affliction as a short season that we must endure until we can get back to a happy equilibrium, the gospel presents something much more beautiful. Afflictions of all sizes are a regular part of human life. To live in denial of this reality erodes at our bones. In fact, the older I get, the more I am tempted to shake my fist in anger, "Why, Lord? Why is this so hard...again?" For some reason, I continue to be shocked by each new trial.
Then, Phil made a rather profound comparison (Those who know him will not be surprised—he is famous for crafting poignant analogies on the spot.):
"I feel like a tiny seed that has blown into a crack in the sidewalk. And God says, 'Ok, now grow.'"
If you live in a city, there's a chance you've seen this—flowers that erupt through sidewalk cracks or roots that lift the cement into precarious skateboard jumps or vines that hang under bridges to be swiped by freeway traffic. My favorite is the grass that actually grows up the inside of a street sign, crowning the "Stop" with a tuft of crispy green hair.
City plants have learned to be resilient. They grow wherever they can make their own space, reclaiming any territory that is free from vigilant human intervention. It is very slow work, but once they gain a little ground, city plants can really do some damage.
I sometimes wonder if it is painful work for the city plant, trying to live and breathe among all of our concrete. Do they feel the difficulty? Do they cling to hope? Do they ever wish God had asked them to grow somewhere else? Which brings me back to Romans, joyful in hope, patient in affliction.
Just a few chapters earlier, the writer of Romans explains:
Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we boast in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us. You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly (5:1-6).
This process of moving from suffering to perseverance to character to hope is slow growth. But what it lacks in speed, it retains in power. Only in following Jesus are we promised peace for our souls and the promise of personal growth, not just in spite of the trials common to the human experience but actually through them. There's a deeper joy that comes from knowing that our affliction is not without purpose.
Perhaps, in the end, we are all a bit like city plants, tumbling into tight crevices and growing through the power of Christ nonetheless.