A man was exploring a series of underground tunnels. Down deep in the recesses of the earth he carefully made his way along the damp, dark, tunnels, deeper and deeper into the pitch black labyrinth, his trusty flashlight illuminating the walls, ceiling, and floor of the wonderful chasm. He ventured further into the unknown darkness.

His senses now labored to know up from down as he peered into the darkness around him. Unafraid, he continued his trek into the heart of the earth. The silence was deafening as he carefully navigated the floor of the cavern, sometimes traversing steep drops and large boulders. His breath the only sound in the world as he stood still to examine a gorgeous mineral deposit shining like diamonds in the light of his flashlight. Another few steps and then his footing was lost to a slippery stone. Down he went onto the slick rocky surface, his arm striking a rock, his flashlight also struck the solid rock floor, flickering and then with a blinding flash the light was extinguished. He reached in his pants pocket and pulled out the batteries he had brought as a back up. Fumbling in the pitch darkness, like a blind man he carefully removed the screw on the cover and dropped the old batteries on the ground. He felt both of them to determine which way was plus and minus. Screwing on the cap, he pushed the button on the bottom and nothing happened. He tightened the cap, pushed the switch over and over but nothing. His mind raced, “what will I do?” He thought as the alarms rang through his mind.

He touched the walls of the cave but both sides were the same. He had no way to know which way he was going because of the fall he took. The terror of his situation gripping his mind like a vice, he instinctively moved in the direction his mind said was out. Stumbling, falling, crashing his legs, head, and arms on unseen obstacles. Falling down repeatedly until he fell hard, stumbling over a stone. He laid there exhausted, bruised, and afraid .”How will I ever get out of here?” His thoughts echoed like a skipping old record player going off in his head. Hope faded quickly to despair as he lay there in complete darkness. The sound of his heart made a deafening thunder in his ears as he laid there contemplating his demise, now a grim certainty. The times of his life, his family and friends, his hopes and dreams seemed to be disappearing into a dark whirlpool of hopelessness.

He had never believed in anything supernatural, yet from somewhere unknown to him he chocked out a simple prayer: “Oh God, if you’re there, please help me.” The words echoed off the walls of the cave and before they ceased he had a thought, a memory, from some time ago, when he had quit smoking last year. He reached into the inside of his vest and slowly unzipped the hidden pocket, feeling inside. “Is it there?” His fingers felt the waterproof matches he used to light his cigarettes with, hope surged within him for a brief moment. But faded when he felt nothing inside. Dejected by this he almost threw the matches onto the ground, but he said to himself; “why would I put an empty match book in my vest?” He felt the matches again carefully. Right in the edge he felt something. It was a match, one single match. A mixture of elation and sorrow filled his heart. He would finally have light, but only for a few seconds. What good would this little light do for him, he was an hour into this dark tomb. Still, he lit the match, longing for some relief from the suffocating darkness.

Oh how wonderful, how bright that match was when it lit. He could see, just for a fleeting few seconds. The light from that match was as bright as a supernova, the entire cave illuminated by its brightness. He looked back and forth for some clue to his direction out of this mess. But both ways looked exactly the same. The match now nearing his fingers and waning towards going out he dropped to his knees. “No. No. Oh God, no.” He said out loud and then the match was out. Fear again gripped his mind as the darkness closed in to take him to the pit of despair again, and yet something about that moment of intense light stuck in his mind. Did he imagine it? Was it real or just a fanciful thought?

He put both hands on the floor of the cave and felt for it. Was it really there? It took a moment but slowly he realized it was quite real. The glimmer which he saw when he fell to his knees was water. Just a trickle, soundless, invisible to the eye but not to the light which had illuminated the wake caused by his knees hitting the ground. Hope flooded his heart, he knew which way to go now. He crawled along for hours on his hands and knees, following this film of water flowing toward freedom, winding and twisting along. Finally his eyes detected a faint light ahead, which grew and grew until it became a blinding hole of salvation for his once lost soul. “Thank goodness” he said as he emerged from what was certainly his doom just a few short hours ago.

Thank goodness?

It happened so slowly, imperceptible to the senses, camouflaged by the slow, yet constant ticking of the clock. The beautiful rose bush, producing gorgeous and fragrant blooms which pleased the eye and delighted the nose year after year. It blessed us with its lovely offerings, it was trimmed, fertilized, and watered regularly. But for a time it was neglected, the grass around its base was not pulled out, only cut.

After a time, a stem, resembling the branches of the rose bush grew up among the other branches. Because of the carelessness of its tender it was allowed to coexist with the host plant. And it grew, and grew, and grew, up through the branches slowly, insidiously curving its way to the  top. Beneath the ground its roots co-mingled and wrapped around the roots of the rose, vigorously surrounding the life giving, nutrient bearing foundations.

One day, it finished its climb to the top and there it produced a single leaf above the leaves of the rose. Its color cloaked the greens of the rose bush with a fuller and more vibrant green appearance. The sunlight, the wonderful power that causes growth was finally fully experienced by this alien organism. Just one shoot had finally reached the top.

In the meantime the squeezing, encircling root invisible to the eye continued to rob the rose of its ability to nourish the stems and leaves above the ground. The flowers grew smaller and lasted for shorter periods. Even the fragrance, once robust and penetrating, became dull and hardly noticeable anymore. Now the intruder had grown over the top of the rose, exalting in its new found position. The sunlight caused an exponential explosion of growth at the top of the single, previously unnoticed stem, and it flourished, spread out over the rose and soon it blocked the precious sunlight which had been the source of its growth and beauty. The rose bush became weak, wilted, and dead. It’s roots strangled below the surface, its leaves and branches covered in darkness.

In the place of the once colorful, fragrant rose bush, there is now just a bush. No flowers for beauty, no fragrance for delightful smell, just a bush.

Mark 4:3-8

Hebrews 12:15

(look it up)