Scattered seeds
Preacher: Revd Dr Donald MacEwan, University Chaplainc
Readings: 1 Samuel 15:34-16:13; Mark 4:26-34
Over five days and ten ceremonies last week, 2518 people from 97 different countries became graduates of the University of St Andrews. They joined a vast community of alumni stretching back to William Yellowlock and ten others who graduated in 1414, 610 years ago. History does not record if there was a graduation ball that year, but nevertheless, those 11 men were the first of the near-countless number of people who have gone out from this corner of Fife, with degrees in their hand giving evidence of their knowledge and understanding, all with their own memories of friendships made and insights gained, all transformed by their time as students here.
Yellowlock graduated some 46 years before this chapel was consecrated, in 1460, to St Salvator, the Holy Saviour, in other words, to Jesus. Jesus, of course, knew no university. But there was scholarship in his day, and in his Jewish culture, pupils learned from teachers, from rabbis. And we know from the gospels that Jesus could read and write. All the same, when he taught, he used images familiar to a community close to the land, in which most people grew food or kept some livestock. The two stories we heard earlier from Mark show Jesus drawing on this simple imagery known to his place and time. The kingdom of God is like someone scattering seeds on the ground. The kingdom of God is like a single seed, a tiny speck of a seed like a mustard seed.
2000 years have passed since Jesus first told these stories – civilisations have come and gone, humankind has developed in unimaginable ways in science and technology, in art and music, in the lives especially of women and children, in medicine and, of course in education. And yet, those images of scattering seeds, of the fruit from a single seed, still seem apt for our contemporary lives – even if most of us buy bread from Tesco with only the haziest knowledge of how seeds of wheat are transformed into a farmhouse loaf. Or into the 17,000 sandwich triangles served at last week’s garden parties.
Could I suggest, on this Alumni Weekend, that we see every single graduate of the University as a seed, scattered by the Principal and Vice-Chancellor, Professor Dame Sally Mapstone, every time she caps a graduand and utters the relevant words in Latin, usually et super te – and on you too? And if the Principal is the farmer, the soil is whatever world we move into, the environment of our lives. That’s the places, from returning to our parents’ house to save a little bit of money, to going somewhere new for work – London, New York, Shanghai, Addis Ababa, the highlands of Peru, the highlands of Scotland. The soil is also our workplaces, from 23 floors up in the City, to front of house in a theatre; from the admissions ward in a general hospital to a research lab in a pharmaceutical institute. The soil is our career, but also our interests, some of which grew here first – bellringing to online gaming, ultimate frisbee to singing together in a choir. And of course the soil in which our seed lands can also be the churches we find, the communities of faith in which we find a spiritual home. That won’t be exactly the same as St Andrews, but we take something of that wherever we go, ourselves being the church in all its glorious and exasperating reality.
If graduates are seed scattered in the soil of our lives beyond our time as students, what does it mean to sprout and grow? Well, it is tempting to think that it’s the sprouting of our savings, the growing of the size of our house, or car, or superyacht berthed in Montenegro or Antigua. And it is true that a degree from St Andrews may lead to stimulating work in fields which yield rewarding financial harvests for those who take on significant responsibility.
But I don’t think that’s how Jesus understands the sprouting and growing of the seeds. After all, he is clear in another story that building bigger and bigger barns for unused grain is a mistaken use of our gifts. Rather, Jesus sees our sprouting and growing as about our fruitfulness – for others, for the world which God loves. In the second parable in our passage, Jesus suggests that the kingdom of God is like a tiny mustard seed, which, when planted, grows up tall with many branches – not for its own sake. But to offer branches and shade for birds in which to build their nests to rear new generations. This is not nature as a selfish gene, but a co-operative eco-system. And we human beings are part of such an eco-system, and have the chance to choose paths which are fruitful, a blessing to others, enabling them and the planet to flourish.
This could be exemplified from countless lives of our graduates. How about Ishbel Campbell, who obtained her BSc in 1927 and PhD in 1931, and as a chemist held a Commonwealth Fellowship at Cornell, before becoming a Lecturer at Southampton University?
Or William Dunbar, graduating MA in 1479, poet, priest, and writer of the most beautiful explorations of Christ’s incarnation and resurrection.
Or Fiona Hill, MA 1987, peace-maker, intelligence analyst, sometime member of the USA’s National Security Council, and now Chancellor of Durham University.
Or Andrew McLellan, MA in the 1960s, minister of the Church of Scotland, Moderator of the General Assembly in 2000, who had such a concern for prisoners that he visited every prison in the country that year and then served as Her Majesty’s Chief Inspector of Prisons for Scotland for seven years.
Or Nayantara Kansal, MA Psychology 2013, a developmental psychologist. And Maneesh Kuruvilla, PhD in Psychology, 2018, and now Lecturer in Dementia, University of Tasmania. And who were married by me in Bangalore in November 2019.
Or Lea Weimann, MA 2021 in International Relations and Sustainable Development, who co-leads the Youth for Ecocide Law branch of Stop Ecocide International – and who has preached as a graduate in this chapel.
Of these seven examples, most have a Wikipedia page. But of course, rather more alumni are not so well-known, but even if their lives are famous only to a few, they still can be fruitful, helping others flourish.
Today we have witnessed the baptism of Hugo, who does not appear to have his own Wikipedia page. He is a little bigger than a mustard seed, but still sprouting and growing. What will he be when he grows up? We cannot know where he will live, whether he will go to University, who will share his life when he leaves home, what career and interests will absorb his energies. But we can pray that he will fulfil his potential as part of God’s creation, and as beloved by God, and that he will flourish, not only for himself, but for all the countless others who will be part of his life.
Who knows, he may follow his father and graduate from St Andrews. Last week we learned from the Principal at our graduations that the cloth, or birretum, used to cap each graduand has been used in every ceremony since 1696. There’s an echo in it of anointing, the placing of oil on the head, to set someone apart for a special purpose. In our reading from 1 Samuel today, the shepherd-lad David was anointed with oil from a horn by Samuel – to be king.
Not many St Andrews graduates go on to be monarchs, although William, Prince of Wales, who will be our next king, graduated MA 2005 in Geography. He too is a seed scattered and bearing fruit, alongside the biblical monarch David. David was chosen for this purpose ahead of his brothers. Only one could be king. But as the story says, the Lord looks on the heart, and he knows and loves all the people of his world. All his seeds when scattered have influence; all have a role in the kingdom of God.
Today of course is not only a scattering but a reunion. While our newest graduates wake from the Graduation Ball, and pack up to leave, many others have returned for the Alumni Weekend, spending time in Sandy’s Bar, Sallies Hall, Parliament Hall, Buchanan Lecture Theatre, the harbour and of course, this chapel. This is a time to reflect on the fields and gardens which have matured as the St Andrews seeds have scattered and sprouted: as we have sung, sharing, recalling, lamenting and hoping. Sometimes, in the midst of life, we cannot always see the growth, the branches seem bare, it’s not clear who is finding shelter within our lives. But when we gather together, and the anecdotes flow, and we catch up on lives and loves, on family and friends, we can sometimes recognise that steady purpose of God in our midst, his faithfulness at the heart of a fragile world.
It’s not entirely backward-looking though. Alumni may have decades behind them, but the motto of the Burgh of St Andrews is worth remembering, Dum Spiro Spero, While I breathe, I hope ! The plants our seeds became continue to grow, sometimes vigorously, sometimes rather more feebly, but always affecting others, with the chance and joy of helping them flourish. You may not be as famous as William Yellowlock, Fiona Hill or the Prince of Wales, but God’s blessing and encouragement are not only upon them but also on you – as the Principal said hundreds of times last week – et super te – and on you, and on you, and on you.
END