A friend of mine, and a great lover of neighbourhoods, passed away suddenly and tragically last month. Matthew Gillette was a young father, pastor, and inspiration for many who will be remembered for his warmth, genuine humility, and unwavering love for his community. Although he lived in another country, he was a perennial encourager to me in my own love for Chestermere.
One of his life mottos was to “sow seeds every day.” He even sent me a sticker with that phrase. For Matthew, he took seriously the idea that when we lose our life for the sake of others, we actually find it. Giving is greater than receiving, and going last puts you in the best spot to participate in the best stuff of life. These ideas come from our shared faith in Jesus, and Matthew found so many ways to live this out. He sowed seeds for the kind of life he believed was possible, and it changed his community and city.
Days before he passed away, he posted a poem that has since taken on so much more meaning. The poem is called, “For Compost” by Lydia Wylie-Kellerman. It reads,
Before the bowl flows over with onion peels
or gives home to the fruit flies,
Before the molds grows green,
I lift thee from the kitchen table
and carry you out to the heap of hot soil.
I lift you towards the heavens
before I release you.
You are an offering
May you die well,
bless this dirt,
and become life once more.
There is a hard and aching beauty in reading this poem as the last words shared by our friend. To see this life as a seed or as compost is profound, today. Shiny, big, loud, and plastic things seem to vie for our attention. We may even expend all of our energy pursuing things that do not grow or lead to life for others or ourselves. But growing things are slow and easily overlooked. However, for those who discover meaning in this life, seeds and compost may hint at the beauty that is possible all around.
This pandemic has wrought all kinds of sorrow and loss. It is felt broadly in our city and by those we care about. We are discovering a new way to care for what is hurt and broken, and that is to attend and nurture even the smallest growing thing. When we give something of our lives for others, we are not losing out, but growing something good between us and others.
When we ‘plant’ ourselves in our communities, we may find something better happening in us, and around us, than if we just passed over our community. The sense of loss we feel is not the end of the story if we look for the places where loss gives way to life. While this is certainly an act of faith – to see life in the midst of loss and grief – we have those like Matthew who have gone before us to show us the way.
So, with great hope, we learn to become those who sow seeds every day.
