And he said, Thus is the kingdom of God, as if a man should cast the seed upon the earth,
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
and should sleep and rise up night and day, and the seed should sprout and grow, he does not know how.
This verse holds the whole weight of the parable: the sower sleeps, gets up, lives his life — and the seed grows anyway. Only Mark records it. It raises two old questions: who is the man who sleeps, and who is it that does not know how?
One commentator sees a design in what Mark alone records:
This is a parable found only in the Gospel of Mark, and so it is characteristic of the divine design. This parable sets out Christ's service first and last. For the kingdom of God it marks an unexpected fact: between His action at the beginning and His action at the end, He seems to leave things to take their course.
The sower does nothing visible while he sleeps and rises. For the Lord, that gap runs from His work on earth to His return:
So the Lord worked in person, sowing the word of God on earth. At the end He will return and work in person again, when the time has come to judge this world. But for now He remains seated at the right hand of God, as though He were not occupying Himself with His field. Yet in secret He works by His grace, and He produces everything. It is just not obvious. He seems to let the gospel grow without having anything to do with it until the harvest. Then He will appear and will Himself work openly.
Another writer reads that silence as a break with an older pattern:
Not knowing how the seed grew is simply how things look to the world. The world knows nothing of God's secret sustaining power. Once, God acted openly for His people. It might be by judgment, or by rescue from their enemies, but it was plain to see. This was now about to change. God no longer stepping in for His people would look to the world as if He did not know how the seed grew. In His wisdom, faith must seem to be left to itself, so that it may grow stronger.
If the man is the Lord, "he knows not how" troubles readers. One writer points to the two small words that guard the whole picture:
Those who know Him reject the unworthy thought that He gives up all care over His work here below. They reject even more strongly the idea that He who knows all things does not know how the work He laboured on is going. Our Lord took pains to say that the kingdom is "as if." He did not stop watching and working hard, any more than a farmer only sows and reaps, with no interest or service in between.
For us, though, the not knowing is real and lasting:
"He knows not how" is true today. Men have pushed their research very far. But the real how of the wonderful processes carried on in God's great workshop of nature still escapes them.
Commentators differ on who the man is, and each side meets a sentence it cannot fit:
Students of the Scriptures have long debated whether the "man" in this parable stands for the Lord Himself or for His servants. Those who argue for the servants say we cannot imagine the Lord not knowing how the seed grows, or leaving it to take care of itself. Others reply that Christ's servants are not the ones who will put in the sickle and reap the grain on the day of harvest.
The same writer resolves it by shifting attention off the man altogether:
The central thought of the parable is the service, not the servant. The seed grows by itself in the same way, whether the Lord Himself preaches or those He sends.
If the growth is not ours, the parable teaches us to wait:
After sowing the seed, what more can we do? Nothing but hope and pray that it may bear fruit. God has put into the earth everything needed to make a seed grow. In the same way, He alone can make the seed of the word grow in the human heart. The sower goes on with his daily duties night and day, and leaves the seed in the earth to grow. So we go on with our responsibilities night and day, and leave the word to grow in any heart where it may have been sown.
The sleeping and rising carry a deeper echo, and a comfort with it:
He sowed the seed and then "slept and rose" — He died and rose from the dead. In view of that He could rejoice in knowing that the seed would spring up, increase, and bring a harvest. What was His comfort is the comfort of all His true servants who sow the word.
- Sown — Christ sowed the word in person when He came. The parable marks His action at the start and at the end, with an unexpected gap between.
- Slept — Between those two points the King is out of sight. He is seated on high, working in secret by grace, seeming to leave the field alone.
- Secret — "He knows not how" is said "as if." It describes a world blind to God's sustaining power, and a growth no research has ever explained.
- Servant — Commentators differ over whether the man is Christ or His workers. One answer: the parable is about the service, not the servant.
- Sickle — The power is in the seed, not the sower. So our part is to keep sowing and wait, while God brings His own work to harvest.
The earth bears fruit of itself, first [the] blade, then an ear, then full corn in the ear.
The kingdom of God grows like a crop no one is watching. The seed is in the ground, the sower sleeps, and the field does its work. This verse tells us what happens in that silence. It raises two questions: whose power is at work, and why is growth so slow?
The field produces without the sower touching it. That is not a sign that God is uninvolved.
The parable says that the earth bears fruit fit for the sower "of itself." That is the point in the parable. God has tilled that soil, and it must therefore be fruitful.
This sets a limit on what the person sowing can do, and names what God alone does.
Once the seed is sown the sower can do no more. He goes on with his daily work and leaves the seed to do its own work, helped by the resources God has placed there. Let us not try schemes to make the seed germinate when only God can do that! I am persuaded that this first work of preparing the ground to receive the seed — the word — is when a soul is "born again." Our Lord spoke of the earth bringing forth fruit of itself. In the same way, a soul worked on by God would have spiritual resources for receiving the word. That word is heard in the preaching of the good news of the grace of God.
The growth is invisible. That is a change from the days when God acted for His people in ways everyone could see.
Not knowing how the seed grew is simply how it looks to a world that knows nothing of God's secret sustaining power. It is a contrast with what happened when the LORD stepped in openly for His people. He might act by judgment, or by rescue from their enemies, but it was visible. This was now about to change. God would no longer step in for His saints, so to the world it would look as if He did not know how the seed grew. The earth brought forth fruit of itself: the blade, the ear, the ripe fruit. In the same way, God's saints would look to the world as if all their strength came from human sources. The harvest would undeceive them, but not until then.
Each stage marks real progress, and only the last one is the signal to reap.
"The blade" would be the first sign of life, evidence that the seed had germinated. "The ear" would be a further sign of growth. "The full grain in the ear" would be fruit at maturity. Only then is it time to reap the harvest. In our eagerness to gather souls into the kingdom we may be tempted to reap blades, or ears. How much better to wait for visible fruit! Then our reaping will not be in vain.
The pace is not a defect. What looks like delay is the method of the One who designed seed and soil.
The seed is first sown, then patience must wait for its results, which are neither immediate nor sudden. How the gradual growth takes place is beyond our knowledge. It is the work of an infinitely great and wise Creator.
The Lord's own work stands at both ends of this growth: He sowed, and He will reap.
The Lord worked personally, sowing the word of God on earth; and at the end He will return and work again in person, when the time to judge this world has come. But in the meantime He remains seated at the right hand of God, as though He were not occupied with His field. Yet in secret He does work by His grace, and He produces everything. It is not visible. Unseen, He works by His grace to make the seed grow in a divine way. To all appearances He lets the gospel grow without having anything to do with it until the harvest.
And so the outcome is never in doubt, whatever the age looks like.
Fruit is certainly being produced for God in the world: "first the blade, then the ear, then the full grain in the ear." Whatever the way things look, the gospel is winning true hearts for the Saviour who died and rose again.
- Sown — the sower's whole task is to cast the seed; only God can make it germinate, and He has already prepared the soil that bears fruit "by itself."
- Hidden — the growth is unseen, so the world reads God's silence as God's absence. The harvest will correct them, but not before.
- Staged — blade, ear, then full grain: life shows first, growth follows, maturity comes last, and each stage is real.
- Slow — the results are neither immediate nor sudden. The pace belongs to a wise Creator, so don't reap blades and don't rush souls.
- Certain — the Sower sowed in person and will reap in person. Between the two He works unseen, and the field is bearing fruit for God right now.
But when the fruit is produced, immediately he sends the sickle, for the harvest is come.
This line closes a short parable found only in Mark. A man scatters seed, sleeps and rises while it grows without his help, and then the sickle goes in. The words "at once" carry the weight. After a long stretch of apparent inaction, the reaping is sudden. Who reaps, and why was the wait so long?
The sower here is the Lord Himself. The parable spans the whole distance between His first coming and His second. Once the fruit is ripe, His hidden work becomes open work.
So the Lord worked in person, sowing the word of God on earth. At the end, He will return and work in person again, when the time has come to judge this world. For now, He remains seated at the right hand of God, as though He were not busy with His field. Yet in secret He does work by His grace, and produces everything. But it is not visible. Unseen, He works by His grace to make the seed grow in a divine way. On the surface He seems to leave the gospel to grow without having anything to do with it, until the harvest. Then He will appear and will Himself work openly.
The sleeping and rising of the sower is not neglect. It covers a stretch of time when God appears to do nothing in the open. Then, right on time, He acts.
This does not mean His care over His people sleeps. But outwardly, things happen in what claims to be under His authority without any open action on His part. "But when the grain is ripe, at once he puts in the sickle, because the harvest has come." So He will soon put in the sickle. Despite what man does, the harvest comes in its due season.
The wait before the sickle has cost believers real pain.
The apparent indifference of the Lord of the harvest has often perplexed the godly. They have watched the finest people on earth thrown to lions by the heathen. They have seen them tortured in the Inquisition and burned at the stake by the religious leaders of Christendom. Their anguished hearts have wondered at the silence of heaven. No angels have appeared to rescue the oppressed, as they did for Peter in prison. And no miracle has come to their aid, as in the day when the three Hebrews were thrown into the fiery furnace. "O Lord, how long?" has been the agonised cry of many. They have wondered at the triumph of evil, especially in religious circles.
There is a reason the sickle waits.
While the growth is still mixed, and while the grain is not yet ripe, no judgment takes place. If it did, it might root the unripe grain out of the world.
The stages before the sickle — blade, ear, full grain — set the standard for when reaping is worth doing. That standard reaches into everyday service.
"The blade" would be the first sign of life, evidence that the seed had germinated. "The ear" would be a further sign of growth. "The full grain in the ear" would be fruit at maturity. Only then is it time to reap the harvest. In our eagerness to gather souls into the kingdom, we may feel inclined to reap blades or ears. How much better to wait for the fruit that is plainly there! Then our reaping will not be in vain.
One writer reads the sleeping and rising in the parable as the Lord's own death and resurrection.
None of the other Gospel writers record this parable. The seed sown grows in secret. No one knows how. Life is in the Word. He sowed the seed and then "slept and rose" — He died and rose from the dead. In view of that He could rejoice in the knowledge that the seed would spring up, increase, and bring a harvest. And the sower will put in the sickle. The harvest (the end of the age) is more fully revealed in Matthew 13. What was His comfort is the comfort of all His true servants who sow the word.
His people can count on the outcome without hesitation, and here is the reason.
God's work, of which Christ is the doer, cannot fail in anything to glorify Himself.
- Sown. The Lord Himself scattered the seed at His first coming, then went to the right hand of God — the whole parable hangs between His two personal comings.
- Hidden. His apparent inaction is not neglect. He works in secret by grace to make the seed grow.
- Withheld. The sickle waits because early judgment would root out grain that is not yet ripe. The delay that troubles the godly protects the harvest.
- Ripe. Blade, ear, then full grain. God reaps maturity, so His servants should not rush to reap blades.
- Reaped. "At once" — when the fruit is ready, He appears and works openly. His work cannot fail in anything to glorify Himself.
And he said, How should we liken the kingdom of God, or with what comparison should we compare it?
The Lord's last parable in this chapter opens with a question, not a statement. That question, and the tiny seed He answers with, show what the kingdom of God would look like on earth while the King Himself was away.
He says "we," not "I." The word is small, but it is deliberate.
Only Mark's Gospel has this beautiful expression, which joins the apostles with the Servant of Jehovah in divine ministry. Matthew and Luke both give the pronoun in the singular: "To what shall I compare it?" And in fact the Lord, as we know, supplied the comparison Himself. He needed no prompting from the twelve. Yet it is good for us, as it was for them, to learn the lowly grace of the Saviour. He put the matter this way so that the apostles might learn that they were chosen to share His service of declaring the kingdom of God.
He often drew them in like this, and never because He was short of an answer:
When emergencies arose He at times consulted them as to what should be done. Not that He needed advice from any, but to question them as He did was to educate them in the understanding (1) of their own natural inability in matters of the kind, and (2) of the vast resources at their Master's command. For example, seeing the hungry crowds He asked Philip, "Where are we to buy bread, so that these people may eat?" — yet He Himself knew what He would do (John 6:5-6). He spoke of His plans the same way: "Let us go across to the other side" (Mark 4:35).
Mark's picture of the kingdom is shorter than Matthew's, and it turns on the time when the King is away.
Here we do not find the whole story of the kingdom, as we do in Matthew 13. We find only its great principles: the Lord's work, set against His public appearing and the setting up of the kingdom by His own presence. It grows during His absence, and no one knows how — at least as far as human knowledge goes.
The Lord picked a seed known for being tiny.
Though small in this country, the shrub reaches a good size in the southern lands where Palestine lies. Travellers report seeing it grow as high as a man on horseback. This is no great height for a tree. But remember: the main feature of the comparison is not the huge bulk of the tree. It is how tiny the seed is next to what it later becomes. Judging by the size of the seed, you would expect no more than a garden herb. In fact it becomes a tree.
In Scripture a spreading tree can stand for earthly power. The prophets had already used the picture for the great empires.
One of the prophets compared the Assyrian empire to a cedar of Lebanon, taller than all the trees of the field. The birds of the heavens nested in its boughs, and great nations lived in its shadow. The same prophet applied the picture to Pharaoh and the armies of Egypt (Ezekiel 31). The rapid rise and vast reach of the Babylonian empire came to its king, Nebuchadnezzar, in a dream, as a tree that "grew and became strong, and its top reached to heaven, and it was visible to the end of the whole earth" (Daniel 4).
The size is no triumph. What settles in the branches tells the real story.
At its beginning Christianity was very small in man's sight, like a "grain of mustard seed." In the hands of man it becomes a great power on the earth. But in its greatness, it becomes a shelter for evil. "The birds of the air make nests in its shade." That which at the beginning gathered souls out of this world around the Lord, in the end becomes a vast system which shelters every evil thing.
The Lord warned His workers in advance, so that growth would not fool them.
This taught them that great size would be the result. The Lord's work would not keep its first simplicity and small extent. Yet spiritual power is the real greatness, and the only true greatness in this world. The moment anything in the Lord's work becomes striking to the natural eye, you can be sure that false principles have somehow got a footing inside.
- Question — Mark alone has "we." The Lord framed the question so the twelve apostles would know they shared His service.
- Seed — The kingdom grows while the King is away. The gap between the tiny seed and the tree is the whole point.
- Tree — In the prophets a spreading tree means earthly power: Assyria, Egypt, Babylon. Now the kingdom takes that shape in man's hands.
- Birds — Greatness brings lodgers. What began by gathering souls out of the world ends as a system that shelters evil.
- Warning — Real greatness is spiritual power. When the work looks impressive to the natural eye, look inside for the false principle that let it grow.
As to a grain of mustard [seed], which, when it is sown upon the earth, is less than all seeds which are upon the earth,
The Lord looks for a picture of the kingdom of God, and He picks the smallest seed a farmer sows. What does such a small start grow into? And is the huge growth that follows a triumph or a warning?
The point of the comparison is not the height the plant reaches but the gap between what is sown and what appears.
The mustard shrub is small in this country. But in the warmer south, where Palestine lies, it grows to a good size. Travellers report seeing it as tall as a man on horseback. That is no great height for a tree. But remember the main feature of the comparison. It is not the huge bulk of the tree. It is how small the seed is next to what it later becomes.
The seed is not just an image of small beginnings. It points to how the faith itself started.
Christianity, a little seed, the seed of a man despised by the world, has become a great power upon the earth, and spreads its branches everywhere.
That smallness was not an accident of timing. It matched the One who planted it.
At its beginning the kingdom bore the character of its Founder. He "made Himself nothing." He came not to be served but to serve. He taught His disciples that the least among them, the one who could become the servant of all, was the greatest. The apostles understood their Lord's teaching and obeyed it. As a result they became "like the scum of the world, the refuse of all things."
The verse calls the mustard the smallest of all seeds. One writer narrows that to the seeds people plant, and then looks at what grows.
The mustard is called the least of all the seeds — of the ones that people plant, I take it. The growth here is abnormal. In nature a mustard seed never becomes a great tree. People may treat this natural growth as if it were divine and perfect. Yet any simple soul can see that the growth is abnormal.
The size it reaches makes it useful to guests it was never planted for.
The teaching of the parable is that the kingdom of God would become raised up in the earth and suitable for agents of Satan to find protection under its shadow…
The birds are not left to guesswork. The Lord had already used the same word in an earlier parable.
The Lord Himself tells us, in the earlier parable, who the "birds of the air" are. It is the same word used in both places. As the sower sowed the seed, the birds came and devoured it. The Lord explains it: "When anyone hears the word of the kingdom and does not understand it, the evil one comes and snatches away what has been sown in his heart." So by the birds of the air that devour the seed, the Lord means Satan and his angels.
Commentators differ on how dark the picture is. Some read the spreading branches as the gospel's genuine reach.
It seemed a small thing to men when the Saviour of the world lay as a Baby in Bethlehem's manger… At first the preaching of the gospel reached no further than the cities of Israel. Yet even in the days of the apostles it went into all the world, to every creature under heaven. And, according to the Lord's own word, men came from the east and the west and the north and the south, and sat down in the kingdom. God chose the weak things of the world to shame what was mighty.
The Lord gave this parable to guide His servants. They needed to know what to expect, and what not to trust.
The grain of mustard seed was there merely to show the great change from a little beginning into a vast system. That hint was all-important for the guidance of the servants. They were taught that material size would be the result, instead of the work of the Lord keeping its first simplicity and small extent. Spiritual power is the real greatness, and the only true greatness in this world. The moment anything at all in the Lord's work becomes striking to men's eyes, you may be sure that false principles have somehow got a footing within.
- Seed — the point is the gap between the tiny thing sown and what stands there later. It is not the tree's height.
- Smallness — the kingdom began like its Founder, who made Himself nothing. His followers were counted the scum of the world.
- Swelling — a garden plant becoming a tree is growth against its own nature. Size here is no proof that all is well.
- Shelter — birds nest in the branches. In the earlier parable the Lord said the birds stand for Satan and his angels.
- Standard — writers differ. Some see the gospel reaching the world; others see a system grown worldly. Either way, the true greatness is spiritual power, not visible size.
and when it has been sown, mounts up and becomes greater than all herbs, and produces great branches, so that the birds of heaven can roost under its shadow.
The third of Mark's seed parables measures the kingdom of God by size, not by fruit: the smallest of seeds becomes a plant with branches wide enough for birds to shelter in. Commentators read that growth as history rather than praise, and they press one question — who are the birds?
The two earlier parables in this chapter look toward a harvest. This one does not.
All three parables in this chapter picture the ministry of the kingdom of God by the Servant of Jehovah under the figure of growing seed. The first shows that fruitfulness depended on how suitable the soil was where the seed fell. The second shows that the seed's growth and final fruitfulness owed nothing at all to human help. In the third parable, however, quite a different feature stands out. It says nothing about fruit for God, which will matter so much in the day of harvest. It brings forward the man-ward side of the kingdom, not the Godward side. The rapidly growing tree is the look the kingdom was to take on in human eyes.
Scripture already used the great tree as its picture of world empire.
What had been sown as a grain of mustard seed becomes a great tree; a symbol that represents a great power on the earth. The Assyrian, Pharaoh, Nebuchadnezzar, are set before us in the word as great trees. The kingdom would take that form. It began small, through the word sown by the Lord, and later by His disciples. What this seed produced would slowly grow into a great power. It would make itself prominent on the earth, so that others would shelter under it, as birds shelter under the branches of a tree. This has, indeed, been the case.
Mark 4 has told us once already what birds do to seed. That earlier scene supplies the meaning here.
At full growth the tree becomes the haunt of independent agents. They do not come out of the seed as fruit would. They are wholly separate from the tree as a living thing. The birds find protection in the tree, but they are in no sense part of it. When it was a seed, they were its natural enemies. The first parable shows the birds eating the good seed in some cases. The Lord took that act of destruction to mean that Satan sometimes carries away the word of the gospel after it is preached. So suppose the birds of the air in the first parable stand for the agents of the devil. Then in the third parable of the same series we may fairly take them to stand for powers of evil.
One writer finds a greater surprise still in who ends up sheltering in the branches.
Here is the "mystery": what is sown as "the smallest of all seeds" becomes a tree. In other words, Christianity was little and despised among men at its beginning, and it becomes great and glorious on the earth. That religion began with the death of Christ as a criminal. What greater mystery could there be than to see it linked with all the dignity, wealth, power and splendour of this world? Only one thing could be stranger. By this remarkable change, the birds find shelter in the branches of the tree that began with the sowing of the seed — the same birds whose first work was to snatch the seed away before it took root.
Another writer weighs what that greatness costs.
In man's hands Christianity becomes a great power on the earth, and in its greatness it becomes a shelter for evil. What at the beginning gathered souls out of this world around the Lord, in the end becomes a vast system which shelters every evil thing.
Where, then, does the Church belong?
Christianity is essentially a heavenly system. The Church of God does not belong to the present evil world, but to the scene of glory where Christ dwells. Christians once walked apart from the way things go here, with hearts devoted to their Lord. Their testimony was unmistakable, and God could bless it to the salvation of souls. Then the Christian community became influential on the earth. Its spiritual usefulness declined, and it became a powerful tool in the hands of Satan.
- Seed. The kingdom starts small, sown by the Lord and then by His disciples. Nothing in that beginning promises greatness on earth.
- Growth. This parable measures the man-ward side only: how big the thing looks, not what fruit it bears for God.
- Shelter. In Scripture a great tree pictures world power — the Assyrian, Pharaoh, Nebuchadnezzar. Others come to lodge under its branches.
- Birds. Mark 4 has already named them: the agents who snatched the seed away. What once attacked the seed now nests in the tree.
- Call. Influence on earth was never the aim. God blesses separation from the world and hearts devoted to Christ.