Where
I grew up in Bassfield, Mississippi we had a big yard. And I mowed that yard-----
with a push mower.
Oh
from time to time Pops would buy a so-called self-propelled mower to “help me
out,” but when the propulsion gears got clogged with rich south Mississippi
dirt (And the propulsion gears always got clogged. Where’d they test self-propelled mowers
anyway, in a parking lot?). Anyway, when
the self-propelled mowers stopped propelling themselves they became much
heavier push mowers.
I
pushed that entire yard spring, summer, and fall. If I didn’t get up early when it was cool,
Pops would say, “I bought you a hat didn’t I?” and I’d mow that whole freakin’
yard in the Mississippi sun. For some
reason my parents didn’t discover riding
mowers until I moved out of state for college.
I
hated yardwork. Still do.
But
back then on a Saturday under 100 degree plus sun while my friends drove by
blowing their horns and waving, I hated the grass in that yard with the kind of
seething, personal antipathy that teenagers usually reserve for other
teenagers.
So
one day, when Pops left me alone at noon with instructions to mow the yard
because I should have gotten my butt up while it was still cool----- I sprayed
the entire yard with diluted diesel, and then I sat on the steps of our trailer
and watched the grass die.
It
was BEAUTIFUL. The blades of grass
shrunk and curled in the sun. The tall
seeded stems drooped and seemed to slide back in to the earth. It all turned this beautiful winter brown,
first in spots were the droplets of diesel fell, but after an hour baking in
the oven that was Mississippi the diesel basting turned the entire yard an even
shade of beautiful, beautiful, dead, not needing to be mowed brown.
I
started this story to make some deep point.
Where was I going with this?
Oh,
yeah.
The
grass grew back. The mowing started all
over again.
Around
this time, in Sunday school, we were
studying the Judges (as in the book of Judges), and I read Judges 9: 45.
And Abimelech fought against the city
all that day; and he took the city, and slew the people that was
therein, and beat down the city, and sowed it with salt (KJV)
Our
Sunday school teacher explained that salt kills the root and the makes it impossible
for anything to ever grow on that soil again.
I
put my fingertips together, leaned back in the pew, and said nothing, but in my
mind I was laughing, “Bwaahahahaha!”
No. I didn’t spread salt on my parents’ yard. I was frustrated not suicidal.
But
I nurtured a vision, a dream that one day I would leave that place and build
myself a big house.
And
I was going to pave the entire yard, and every year I would go outside and
fertilize the pavement with salt just to make sure that NOTHING GREW.
However,
we built our house in a planned subdivision and both the housing covenant and
my wife prohibited that type of landscaping.
All
this time though, I’ve remembered the growth killing power of salt.
Hebrews
chapter 12 urges Christians to “Pursue peace with all people, and
holiness, without which no one will see the Lord.” The author wants to prevent us from “[falling]
short of the grace of God” and becoming “defiled.”
Now
(and here’s the connect to my grass-cutting rant), the passage tells HOW
Christians fall short of grace and become defiled. It tells how we fail to pursue peace and
holiness.
“lest any root of bitterness springing
up cause trouble”
We
get angry. We feel wronged. We have moments of envy, jealousy, wrath,
lust, etc., etc. Yes, WE, as in we
CHRISTIANS. But, we fight those sinful feelings. We turn from them, rebuke, push them down,
pray them away. We stop, get ahold of ourselves,
and breathe. We cut off, or shall I say,
“We mow down,” the weeds of sinful thinking.
But
the grass always grows back.
Just
when you think you’ve conquered your anger, “That chick said what?” Now you gotta crank up your spiritual engine and
cut back your emotions again.
It’s
exhausting.
What
you need is a way to kill the root of bitterness so it can’t spring back up to
cause you trouble.
You
need SALT.
And
you have some. More specifically, you
are some.
Jesus
said, “You are the salt of the earth” (Matthew 5:13)
Fertilize
your emotional landscape with your own spiritual salt.
How?
Colossians
4: 6.
Let your speech always be with grace,
seasoned with salt, that you may know how you ought to answer each one.
Salt
your emotional ground with what Paul had previously advised in Colossians.
Therefore, as the elect of God,
holy and beloved, put on tender mercies, kindness, humility, meekness,
longsuffering; bearing with one another, and forgiving one another, if anyone
has a complaint against another; even as Christ forgave you, so you also must
do. But above all these things put on love, which is the bond of
perfection. (Colossians 3: 12-14)
Spread
your spiritual salt all over your emotional landscape by being good to
people---- to all people.
My
grandmother and the women of her generation all seemed so calm, so centered, so
sure of who they were, so at peace with their choices and circumstances. It was Zen-like.
Now,
I remember them singing to themselves. When
their men or their children or their circumstances got out of line, they would cook,
or clean, or do whatever was their normal task for the day, and they would
quietly hum the old hymns, and sometimes ad-lib Bible verses into the lines.
It
was Zen-like.
It
was genius.
It
was Scripture.
Let the word of Christ dwell in you
richly in all wisdom, teaching and admonishing one another in psalms and
hymns and spiritual songs, singing with grace in your hearts to the Lord. And
whatever you do in word or deed, do all in the name of the
Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through Him.
(Colossians 3: 16-17)
Spread
your spiritual salt by praising God---- in all situations.
Hum
those hymns and gospel songs. Treat
every assignment and task as a chance to glorify Jesus. Thank God---- for everything.
You’ll
kill the roots of bitterness, and one day you’ll look out and realize that you
don’t have to trim the edge off your anger anymore. The bitterness will be dead, dried up from
the root.
And let the peace of God rule in your
hearts, to which also you were called in one body; and be thankful (Colossians
3: 15)
You’ll
be living the dream.
Anderson T. Graves II is a
writer, community organizer and consultant for education, ministry, and rural
leadership development.
Rev. Anderson T. Graves II
is pastor of Miles
Chapel CME Church (5220
Myron Massey Boulevard) in Fairfield, Alabama; executive director of the
Substance Abuse Youth Networking Organization (SAYNO); and director of rural leadership development for the
National Institute for Human Development (NIHD).
Friend me at www.facebook.com/rev.a.t.graves
