God and the Little Weed

Many, many centuries ago, on one Easter Sunday, several pagan chiefs stood assembled on a hill in Ireland. As the legend goes, a humble Catholic priest, Patrick, appeared before them. The small crowd watched with great curiosity as this man stooped to the green, living carpet beneath him. He was only down for a moment, and he when he straightened, he held in his fist a little sprig of clover. The brows of the chiefs scrunched in confusion. Patrick lifted the little weeds, and began to explain the doctrine of the Triune God. The three leaves of the one plant represented the three persons of the One True God, the Christian God, and how because of his great love, “the Father sent his Son to be the Savior of the world.” It was only a rough example, but God used it to bring some of the Irish nobleman to repentance and faith in Patrick’s God.

Only a few days ago, I stepped outside, onto the asphalt driveway. The summer heat felt thick and oppressive, particularly around the hard black surface beneath my sandals. But the surface was not all black, and a little patch of green flickered into my memory. I looked more closely at the ground. There, springing bright and beautiful and alive was a little patch of verdant clover—a small sprig, but one very much alive. It was so alive that it had broken through the asphalt. I knelt on the driveway to check what I had seen, still hardly believing it to be real. No crack had split the asphalt and allowed for little airborne clover seeds to sneak into the dirt beneath. No, these little seeds had taken years to push through, but they had made it. The tender stems and leaves had shoved their way through the darkness, through the mighty asphalt, into the long-unseen light. It was a glorious victory for life, a day of celebration and of triumph. How the mighty had fallen!

In both Patrick’s story from centuries ago and mine from a few days ago, the little clover represents something strong—the life of the Triune God. I am not saying that God’s Spirit dwells inside the little plant we insult as a weed, but I am saying He can use the lowly things of this world to teach valuable truths about himself. God uses what is weak to show the power of life, and in a metaphorical sense, the power of the living God. Like the little clover in the asphalt, sometimes the power of God is hidden from our sight; we see only the hard unbreakable darkness of the world around us. But slowly, the living God, the Lord ever near us, the One who speaks in a still small voice, is growing and working where we cannot see. Then the asphalt begins to bubble up, just in one little spot, like a tumor. And then like the roar of many waters, the mighty voice of God bursts forth, light is joined to light, and the glory of the fierce love of the Life before life has overcome the darkness.