The Test No One Expected
An emperor in the Far East was growing old, and he knew it was time to choose his successor.
But instead of choosing one of his assistants or one of his children—the expected thing, the political thing—he decided on something different. He called the young people of the kingdom together one day and said, “It is time for me to step down and choose the next emperor. I have decided to choose one of you.”
The young people were shocked. But the emperor continued: “I am going to give each one of you a seed today. One very special seed. I want you to plant the seed, water it, and come back here one year from today with what you have grown from this one seed. I will then judge the plants that you bring, and the one I choose will be the next emperor.”
I have thought about this parable for a long time, because it is the whole book in one story. Seven teachings we have walked through together—the prophecy of the two priesthoods, the pronouncement on Eli’s seed, Abiathar’s fall, Zadok’s faithfulness, Ezekiel’s word about no mixture—and it all lands here, in this one question: when you are given a seed, and no one is watching, what do you bring back to the emperor?
Ling and the Empty Pot
One boy named Ling was there that day and, like the others, he received a seed. He went home and excitedly told his mother the story. She helped him get a pot and planting soil, and he planted the seed and watered it carefully. Every day he watered it and watched to see if it had grown.
After about three weeks, some of the other youths began to talk about their seeds and the plants that were beginning to grow. Ling kept checking his seed, but nothing ever grew. Three weeks, four weeks, five weeks went by. Still nothing. By now, others were talking about their plants, but Ling did not have a plant, and he felt like a failure. Six months went by—still nothing in Ling’s pot. He just knew he had killed his seed.
Everyone else had trees and tall plants, but he had nothing. Ling did not say anything to his friends. He just kept waiting for his seed to grow.
A year finally went by, and all the youths of the kingdom brought their plants to the emperor for inspection. Ling told his mother that he was not going to take an empty pot. But his mother was right: he had to tell the truth about what happened. Ling felt sick to his stomach, but he knew she was right. He took his empty pot to the palace.
When Ling arrived, he was amazed at the variety of plants grown by the other youths. They were beautiful—in all shapes and sizes. Ling put his empty pot on the floor, and many of the others laughed at him. A few felt sorry for him and just said, “Nice try.”
Everybody else walked into the palace carrying something impressive. Ling walked in carrying the truth.
The others had plants to show. Ling had only his integrity—and that felt like nothing in a room full of something.
The Secret in the Seed
When the emperor arrived, he surveyed the room and greeted the young people. Ling just tried to hide in the back. “My, what great plants, trees and flowers you have grown,” said the emperor. “Today, one of you will be appointed the next emperor.”
All of a sudden, the emperor spotted Ling at the back of the room with his empty pot. He ordered his guards to bring him to the front. Ling was terrified. When Ling got there, the emperor asked his name. “My name is Ling,” he replied. The others were laughing and making fun of him. The emperor asked everyone to quiet down. He looked at Ling and then announced to the crowd, “Behold your new emperor! His name is Ling.”
Ling could not believe it. Ling could not even grow his seed. How could he be the new emperor?
Then the emperor said, “One year ago today, I gave everyone here a seed. I told you to take the seed, plant it, water it, and bring it back to me today. But I gave you all boiled seeds which would not grow. All of you, except Ling, have brought me trees and plants and flowers. When you found that the seed would not grow, you substituted another seed for the one I gave you. Ling was the only one with the courage and honesty to bring me a pot with my seed in it. Therefore, he is the one who will be the new emperor.”
Every one of those plants was a lie. The only thing in that palace that was real was an empty pot.
You can fake the plant, but you cannot fake the pot.
Just You and God
Here is the sentence I wrote at the end of this parable in the book, and I want you to carry it with you:
“Sometimes living righteous can mean it’s just you and God, and while others may appear to be successful and often times more blessed, keep watering the seed, and you’ll be surprised what God does to bring the increase.”
It was just Ling and God in that pot for a whole year. He watered a seed that never showed him a single sprout. He watched everyone else’s success grow while his stayed buried. He felt like a failure. He kept watering anyway.
And I tell you, that is the Zadok priesthood in a parable. Go back through everything we have studied. Eli’s sons fattened themselves on the choice meat while the sacrifice went unsanctioned in 1 Samuel 2. The Eli priesthood learned to put on a show and call it ministry. Abiathar was loyal until a “new move” appeared—Adonijah’s self-made kingship—and then he traded his calling for a chance at the throne in 1 Kings 1. The whole ministry of Eli and Abiathar is the ministry of the substituted seed: when what God gave you does not seem to be growing, swap it for something that looks alive.
But Ling would not swap. He would not perform. He watered what the emperor gave him and brought it back exactly as it was—empty, honest, unchanged. And that is why the empire fell to a boy with an empty pot.
God is not impressed by the plants we manufacture when His seed seems slow. He is moved by the honesty of the ones who keep watering.
The Esteem of Man or the Favour of God
So now I put the question the way the book puts it: “Are you looking for the esteem of man and eventually be cut off, or are you desiring the favour of God?”
The others in that palace had the esteem of man—for a whole year, they were the successful ones, the blessed ones, the ones with something to show. And the emperor looked at their beautiful plants and saw fraud. One year of applause, and then exposure.
“Those who honor me I will honor, but those who despise me will be disdained.”1 Samuel 2:30 · NIV
That is the sentence that has run under every teaching in this series, from the prophecy in Shiloh to the throne room of Solomon to the temple courts of Ezekiel. Honor God with what He gave you—even when it looks like an empty pot—and God will honor you. Despise the charge, swap the seed, chase the crowd’s esteem, and heaven calls it what it is: disdained.
Man’s applause is a boiled seed. It can never grow.
Keep Watering the Seed
“Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.”Galatians 6:9 · NIV
Do you hear Ling in that verse? Do not become weary in doing good. Do not give up. At the proper time—not your time, the proper time—we will reap a harvest. Ling watered for a year with nothing to show, and his proper time came when the emperor walked into the room and saw the only honest pot in the palace.
“You’ll be surprised what God does to bring the increase.” I wrote that, and I believe it. Paul said it plainly: we plant, we water, “but God has been making it grow. So neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow.” The increase is God’s business. Your business is the watering.
So serve God wholeheartedly whether your seed appears to be growing or not. Water it when the others are showing off their trees. Water it when you feel like a failure. Water it when it is just you and God. The emperor is coming to inspect the pots—and the only ones that will matter are the ones that were never substituted.
The Final Call
This is the seventh and final teaching in this series, so let me close the way the whole journey closes.
We began with an unnamed prophet telling Eli that God would raise up a faithful priest. We watched the Eli seed get pronounced and cut off. We watched Abiathar—loyal until the “new move”—removed by Solomon. We stood with Zadok at Ziklag and at the brook Kidron, the one who proved righteous and never left David’s side. We heard Ezekiel’s word that there would be no mixture in the last-days priesthood—linen, not wool. And now we end with a boy, a boiled seed, and an empty pot.
It was always about this. God is not raising up the most impressive planters. He is raising up the honest ones. The kingdom does not go to the ones with the biggest plants. It goes to the one who had the courage to bring back exactly what the King gave him.
So the question that is left for you—the question this whole book leaves you with—is the emperor’s question: When the inspection comes, will your pot be full of your own substitute, or empty and honest before God? Will you have sought the esteem of man and been cut off, or desired the favour of God and been chosen?
Keep watering the seed. Serve God wholeheartedly whether your seed appears to be growing or not. And when the Emperor walks into the room, stand before Him with your pot exactly as He gave it to you—honest, unswapped, and His.
Come near. Come holy.