I recently
finished reading Nelson Mandela’s Autobiography, “Long Walk to Freedom”. Few
life stories have moved me more than his in recent reads, although there are
many, many incredible stories out there. Perhaps it was the high cost he paid
for the freedom of others, the enormity of the task set before him, or the
extremity of the racial oppression he faced…
As I was
reading the incredible account of his journey, there was one part in particular
that struck me. It was something that may even seem minor, or somewhat irrelevant to the
grand narrative, but I found it fascinating, and it caused me to ponder.
Nelson had already
spent around 20 years in a high-security prison on Robben Island, suffering terrible
hardships along with his co-workers in the struggle for the racial freedom of others.
But now he was suddenly being moved to another prison, isolated and away from
his friends and colleagues. He was given much better food, a larger room, and
even a balcony where he could grow vegetables. The guards who had treated him
and his friends so viciously then began to take him on outings in their
vehicles, to lovely little townships along the coast, filled with white people
drinking tea and enjoying a life away from racial tension, poverty, and crime.
He was even taken to meet the guards’ families at their homes for a meal.
He welcomed
the relief from harsh prison life, and started looking forward to these
outings, longing to see the outside world which had been closed off to him for
20 years. He was desperate for everyday activities like buying a drink from the
convenience store, and saying hello to passers-by.
But he
thought it all very strange… why was he suddenly being treated so well? What
had changed? And then, it struck him… the government knew he was soon to be
released, and they knew the potential he had to change South Africa… so they
were trying to distract him. They were showing him the comfortable life he
could enjoy, away from all the mess that came with his cause… they were
tempting him to give in when he was so close to winning the battle he had long
been engaged in. Thankfully, he recognised it for what it was, and continued in
his pursuit of full freedom for himself and his fellow countrymen, giving up a
life of pleasure, ease and comfort.
It made me think
of the parable of the sower in Matthew 13, who goes out to sow his seed. Some
fell on the path, and the birds came and ate it. Some fell on the rocky places
and sprang up quickly, but because the soil was shallow, the plants withered
when the sun came up. Other seeds fell among thorns, which grew up and choked
the plants. And some fell on good soil, which produced a large crop.
The seed
sown along the path stands for those who, when they hear the message about the
kingdom and do not understand it, the evil one comes and snatches away what was
sown in their heart. The seed falling on rocky ground are those who hear the
word and at once receive it with joy. But since they have no root, they last
only a short time. When trouble or persecution comes, they quickly fall away. The
seed falling among the thorns are those who hear the word, but the worries of this life and the deceitfulness of wealth choke the
word, making it unfruitful. But the seed falling on good soil are those who
hear the word and receive it. They are the ones who produce a crop, yielding a
hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown.
I don’t know
about you, but I feel that I am often susceptible to being the third type of
soil. Many of us who may have been in church for a while have received the
word, and things are growing, and we’ve had seasons of working hard to
cultivate good soil in our hearts. But I also find myself in seasons of worry… worry about my children, finances, the future… I grow cares of the world in my
heart, become distracted and start pursuing other things, I have other loves in
my heart that seem to choke out the fruit that may have been starting to grow.
When I read
Mandela’s account of the temptation to give in, I was struck by how easy it
would have been to justify having a quiet life of comfort in his old age after
a lifetime of fighting for freedom. The thing is, he was about to be freed, but
his goal had been the freedom of ALL his fellow men. He could have said yes to
wealth, health and a host of other things that he probably deserved for all his
sacrifice. But he didn’t… he continued to fight for his own freedom, and the
freedom of others. He reminds me of the good soil, the one that yields a large
crop, 30, 60, or 100 times what was sown.
We too have
an enemy that likes to distract us. He likes to offer us things that are appealing
and comfortable, telling us we deserve them. He causes us to worry, to take our
eyes off Jesus, to lose our focus on Kingdom living, and causes us to focus on
anything but Christ. He knows we already have freedom bought by the blood of
Jesus, and He knows our potential, and he will throw anything at us to make
sure we don’t walk in it and bear fruit. I’ve been guilty of this many, many
times…
It's good to spend some time reflecting on
the cost Jesus paid for that freedom… his own life. We can reflect on our own
hearts, and the condition of our heart soil. Maybe we need to allow God to
reveal some weeds that are choking out the Word and making it unfruitful, and
then do the dirty, hard work of pulling them out.
Let’s not
give up the freedom that Jesus bought us, freedom from sin, worry, and fear, and
be tempted to settle for lesser things…
Let’s
cultivate good heart soil that yields an abundant crop.