I was thinking about Christ’s teaching that “if you have but the faith of a mustard seed, you can move mountains.” I had two thoughts.
First, it occurred to me some time ago that he himself moved literal mountains. Cities have been created, and civilizations dedicated to teachings which owed their existence to him. For all we know, he may have faltered throughout his life, been uncertain, and sometimes wrong, but in the end what he created has endured, and changed the landscape of the planet. You cannot understand modern culture without Western Civilization, which itself cannot be understood without reference–for both good and bad–to Christianity.
Second, I was visualizing myself as the mustard seed, pushing out of the ground. That seed cannot in some respects be said to have “faith”, but rather a way of being such that it either produces its natural fruit (please bear with the awkward metaphor), or perishes. It must have water. It must have nutrients in the soil. It must be planted neither too deep, nor too shallow. At some point, it must have sun. Many factors have to be in place for that seed to become a mustard plant; but unless it dies, become a mustard plant it will. It has no chance of becoming an apple or potato. It has a destiny. It has an internal structure. To complete the metaphor, it has an identity.
It would be pointless to compare mustard plants with apple trees. Both are what they are. They are useful to human beings, and for our part we do much better in conditions of ecological diversity. We also, in my view, do much better in conditions of cultural diversity.
For my part, I post things like what I just posted–about a possible global conspiracy worthy of some action film starring some action hero, except that he keeps it from happening–and wonder how things will end up for me. What if I’m right? What if people will start disappearing? What then?
As I view it, whether there are global conspiracies or not, whether we die from a solar flare, or nuclear war, or global warming or cooling, or by a global plague of sparrows, die we must. We all die, somehow, somewhere. Given this, do the details really matter all that much? I can certainly picture better and worse ways to go, but in the end I do what I do because that is who I am. I MUST give voice to what I think and feel, and the consequences are beyond my control, in large part.
It seems to me when you have attained that level of identity, you have become a mustard seed. Given a good environment, you can go far.