Weekly Sermon

"The Daffodil Principle" : April 20, 2003

The Reverend Anne Benefield

John 20:1-11a; John 12:24

Easter Sunrise Service

Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the tomb. So she ran and went to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved, and said to them, "They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him."

Then Peter and the other disciple set out and went toward the tomb. The two were running together, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first. He bent down to look in and saw the linen wrappings lying there, but he did not go in. Then Simon Peter came, following him, and went into the tomb. He saw the linen wrappings lying there, and the cloth that had been on Jesus' head not lying with the linen wrappings but rolled up in a place by itself. Then the other disciple, who reached the tomb first, also went in, and he saw and believed; for as yet they did not understand the scripture, that he must rise from the dead. Then the disciples returned to their home.

But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb; and she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had been lying, one at the head and the other at the feet. They said to her, "Woman, why are you weeping?" She said to them, "They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him." When she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not know that it was Jesus.

Jesus said to her, "Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?" Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, "Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away." Jesus said to her, "Mary!" She turned and said to him in Hebrew, "Rabbouni!" (which means Teacher). Jesus said to her, "Do not cling to me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go to my brothers and say to them, "I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.'"

Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, "I have seen the Lord"; and she told them that he had said these things to her. John 12:24

Very truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.

Prayer: Gracious God, because the tomb is empty, our lives are full. Let us hear your word to us on this Easter morning so that we will go out from here, brimming with the love of God for all the world. Amen.

More than 40 years ago, one woman began - one bulb at a time - to bring her vision of beauty and joy to an obscure mountaintop. Jesus did the same when he planted himself deep in the dirt of human life. Let me share with you the story of a woman who changed the world as told by Jaroldeen Asplund Edwards: My daughter kept calling. She'd say: "Mother, you must come see the daffodils before they are over." I wanted to go, but it was a two-hour drive from Laguna to Lake Arrowhead. I'm not old, at least not old, old, but I don't particularly enjoy driving. Everyone is so rude and pushy these days. And in a hurry. "I'll come next Tuesday," I promised a little reluctantly on her third call.

Next Tuesday dawned cold and rainy. Still, I had promised, and so I drove over to my daughter's. Plastic toys were strewn in the front yard, and a few pansies were blooming in a strip of dirt along the sidewalk. I walked into Carolyn's house and hugged my grandchildren. "Forget the daffodils, Carolyn!" I said - almost with relief. "The road is invisible in the clouds and fog, and there is nothing in the world that I would rather see than you and these children." My daughter smiled calmly and with a touch of condescension and said, "We drive in this all the time, Mother." "Well, you won't get me back on the road until it clears, and then I'm heading for home!" I assured her. "I was hoping you'd take me over to the garage to pick up my car." She wasn't listening to me. "How far will we have to drive?" I asked. "Just a few blocks," Carolyn said. "I'll drive. I'm used to this."

We got into the car and drove off. After several minutes, it became apparent that something was afoot. "Where are we going? This isn't the way to the garage!" "We're going to the garage the long way," Carolyn smiled, "by way of the daffodils." "Carolyn," I said sternly, as though she were 3 years old and was about to misbehave - which she was, "please turn around." "It's all right, Mother, I promise. You will never forgive yourself if you miss this experience."

After about 20 minutes, we turned onto a small gravel road and I saw a small church. On the far side of the church, there was a hand-lettered sign that read, "Daffodil Garden." We got out of the car and we each took a child's hand, and I followed Carolyn down the path. Then we turned a corner of the path, and I looked up and gasped. Before me lay the most glorious sight. It looked as though someone had taken a great vat of gold and poured it down over the mountain peak and slopes. The flowers were planted in majestic, swirling patterns - great ribbons and swaths of deep orange, white, lemon yellow, salmon pink, saffron and butter yellow. Each different-colored variety was planted as a group so that it swirled and flowed like its own river with its own unique hue. There were five acres of flowers. "But who has done this?" I asked Carolyn.

"It's just one woman," Carolyn answered. "She lives on the property. That's her home." Carolyn pointed to a well-kept A-frame house that looked small and modest in the midst of all that glory. We walked up to the house. On the patio, we saw a poster.

"Answers to the Questions I Know You Are Asking" was the headline. The first answer was a simple one: "50,000 bulbs," it read. The second answer was, "One at a time, by one woman. Two hands, two feet and very little brain." The third answer was, "Began in 1958." There it was. The Daffodil Principle. For me, that moment was a life-changing experience. I thought of this woman whom I had never met, who, more than 40 years before, had begun - one bulb at a time - to bring her vision of beauty and joy to an obscure mountaintop. Still, just planting one bulb at a time, year after year, had changed the world. This unknown woman had forever changed the world in which she lived. She had created something of ineffable magnificence, beauty and inspiration. The principle her daffodil garden taught is one of the greatest principles of celebration. That is, learning to move toward our goals and desires one step at a time, often just one baby-step at a time - and learning to love the doing, learning to use the accumulation of time. When we multiply tiny pieces of time with small increments of daily effort, we, too, will find we can accomplish magnificent things. We can change the world. "It makes me sad in a way," I admitted to Carolyn. "What might I have accomplished if I had thought of a wonderful goal 35 or 40 years ago and had worked away at it 'one bulb at a time' through all those years? Just think what I might have been able to achieve!"

My daughter summed up the message of the day in her usual direct way. "Start tomorrow," she said. "I'll start today," I said. The Daffodil Principle of this story is a good one: Start today - one step at a time - to change your world. This principle emerges, however, from the character and performance of the old lady herself who planted the daffodils. It might better be called "The Old Lady Principle." If we focus on the daffodil, another, radically different principle emerges: It is in dying that we gain life. Or, after every crucifixion, there's a resurrection. Or, in losing oneself, we truly find ourselves. Jesus made this point both in his teaching and in his life. In his teaching, he used a grain of wheat. He might have used a daffodil bulb. "Unless a [daffodil bulb] falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single [bulb]" (John 12:24).

The life and death of Christ is similar: Christ plunged into the soil of humanity, taking the form and likeness of humankind, and in that form died on the cross. God then exalted him and gave him a name above all other names. The point? "Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus" (Philippians 2:5). So there is both text and subtext for the Daffodil Principle. The text is: Start today -one step at a time - to change your world. The subtext is: You may die a little in doing it. That's okay. Change and growth occur as the old is stripped away and the new is allowed to emerge. A woman living along a gravel road near a church, down a little path, spent her life creating something beautiful. In her case, it took several decades, 50,000 daffodil bulbs and the work of her hands and feet. But the impact of her efforts inspired countless people who wandered upon her garden to go and do likewise. Maybe they headed out to plant their own daffodil bulbs. Or maybe they cultivated some other project with the capacity to bloom. Do you think she didn't want to sleep in some morning? Do you think her back didn't ache at the end of the day? Do you think her knees didn't hurt when she knelt in the soil? Do you think she never thought about quitting? She died a thousand deaths in those years she was changing the world. That's what no one sees.

"We should have the same attitude as was in that lady," to paraphrase Paul in Philippians. She herself is an example of what Christ did in living and dying among us. It's not too late. Go out and plant something beautiful. Yes, maybe it will be cold out there. It might be dark. But people, like daffodils, were created to bloom.