The Same Parable, Told Twice

Finding Hope in the Mystery of the Growing Seed (Mark 4)

If I had one last word to offer, it would be a parable.

And if it’s a parable, it has to come from Mark 4.

For nearly a decade now, I’ve found myself returning again and again to Jesus’ parables.

Jesus says that the secret of the Kingdom of God is hidden in them, and in my own reading and praying, that has proven true. No matter how many times I revisit these stories, God is always revealing something new—usually about me, sometimes about himself, but almost always about the mystery of his Kingdom.

The parable I’ve spent the most time praying through isn’t the one most people expect. It’s not the familiar parable of the sower—at least, not exactly. It’s a shorter, easily overlooked parable found only in Mark’s Gospel:

“This is what the kingdom of God is like. A man scatters seed on the ground. Night and day, whether he sleeps or gets up, the seed sprouts and grows, though he does not know how. All by itself the soil produces grain—first the stalk, then the head, then the full kernel in the head. As soon as the grain is ripe, he puts the sickle to it, because the harvest has come.”
(Mark 4:26–29)

Before we can understand this parable, though, we need to revisit the one that comes just before it—the more familiar Parable of the Sower.

The Parable We Think We Know

Jesus tells the story of a farmer scattering seed. Some falls on the path and is eaten by birds. Some falls on rocky soil and springs up quickly but withers just as fast. Some falls among thorns and gets choked out. And some falls on good soil, producing an abundant harvest.

Then Jesus says, “Whoever has ears to hear, let them hear.”

This is the first parable Jesus tells in Mark’s Gospel—and one of the few he actually explains. When the disciples admit they don’t understand it, Jesus tells them something striking: If you don’t understand this parable, you won’t understand any of them.

The farmer, Jesus says, sows the Word.

I tend to hear that explanation through a Johannine lens. John tells us that Jesus is the Word—the Logos—God in the flesh who has moved into the neighborhood. In that sense, God is both the sower who sends the seed and the seed itself. Jesus Christ is the Word sown into the world.

That’s the heart of the parable:
Jesus has shown up.
And his presence means something is happening.

The Kingdom of God is not an abstract future hope. It is at work here and now.

But It Doesn’t Always Look Like It

If we’re honest, though, we often wonder if that’s really true.

Where is God when tragedy strikes—when floods tear families apart, when disease takes the ones we love, when the Church itself seems consumed by division and fear?

Where is the Kingdom when hate appears louder than love and despair feels closer than hope?

According to Jesus, the answer isn’t that the Kingdom isn’t present. It’s that there are birds and rocks and weeds.

As the son of a tobacco farmer, I know this well. Some of my earliest memories involve walking fields—picking up rocks before planting, pulling weeds once the plants had started to grow. You never get all of them. Some rocks run deeper than you can see. Some weeds come back stronger than before. Bugs eat, disease spreads, and whole sections of a field can look like a loss.

When you’re standing in the field, it’s discouraging. Your eyes are drawn to the places where growth isn’t happening.

I’ve spent much of my life “in the field” in another way—walking with young people, families, and communities surrounded by weeds of shame, fear, and brokenness. Rocks left by a painful world. Birds that whisper lies and condemnation.

And when you’re in the field, it can feel like the weeds are winning.

Stepping Out of the Field

But something changes when you step back.

From the road, you don’t see every bare patch or damaged leaf. You see rows and rows of life. What looked like failure up close reveals itself as fruit from a distance.

I think Jesus knew his disciples would need that wider perspective. That’s why I believe the Parable of the Growing Seed isn’t a new parable at all—it’s the same one, told again, but from farther back.

In this telling, there’s no mention of soil types or obstacles. The focus shifts away from the field and onto the seed itself.

The farmer scatters the seed—and then goes on with his life. He sleeps. He wakes. And somehow, mysteriously, the seed grows.

“Though he does not know how.”

That line matters.

The Kingdom grows not because of the farmer’s skill or vigilance, but because the seed has life in it.

“All by itself,” Jesus says, the soil produces grain.

Hope Rooted in Mystery

This parable invites us to trust what we cannot control or fully explain. The Kingdom grows because it has already been planted. When Jesus said, “The Kingdom of God is at hand,” he meant it.

And that is where hope lives—not in certainty, not in visible success, but in mystery.

A mystery strong enough to sustain us when the field feels overwhelming.
A mystery that gives us courage to keep showing up.
A mystery that reminds us the harvest does not depend on us.

Our calling is not to force growth, but to scatter seed and trust the life God has hidden within it.

And somehow—all by itself—the Kingdom comes.

This parable forms the foundation of Growing Seed Ministries. We believe God is the one who plants the seed of the gospel, and our role is to tend the soil—to create space for the growing seed to bear the fruit of the Gospel. Through discipleship, hospitality, mentoring, and teaching, we walk alongside families and teenagers, cultivating patience, trust, and presence. We do not manufacture transformation. We tend the soil, remain faithful, and trust God to bring fruit in His time and His way.