Reap What Did Not Sow

Ezekiel 2: 2-5

Today the first reading makes me think of another parable, or portion of a parable.  I think I've always had a weird relationship with the "Reap what you do not sow" (starting with not understanding the metaphor at a young age to now).

It makes me think about how, as a teacher, I am probably more like one of the planters who did the sowing, right?

But there's an arrogance to that that I wonder at. 

The truth is, as a teacher and especially as a theatre teacher, I reap what I did not sow all the time.  Students rarely come to me anymore without having had a middle school speech teacher (of varying skill and sometimes with horror stories of phobias made worse, but that's the opposite of my point).

I got a lot of credit this year for bringing out great things from my students.  And some of their talent I did help sow the seed, but for others I can just about take credit for casting them and not messing them up.  Even when I did put in work -- reaping is a lot of work, after all -- there was a lot there when my students came to me.  More than when I taught middle school, which is one of many things that makes my current school feel relaxing in comparison.

The prophet Ezekiel seems to be being sent to the town that may or may not stop rebelling, not knowing if he is there as the seed that will become repentance later or as the reaper harvesting the souls of the repentant and newly righteous.

But both jobs are hard work.  They take the same kind of bravery for very different kinds of reward.  We need to remember that we are likely doing good, even when we are the sowers who do not reap.  We need to realize that our success is built on the work of others, when we are the reapers who did not sow.

The only promise Ezekiel is given is that they will know a prophet has been among them either way.  We can only hope, as the song says, they will know we are Christians. By our love.