NEW YORK — On my way to church at 10 a.m., I entered Central Park through the Gate of All Saints, at West 96th Street, and immediately found myself in a kaleidoscope of runners, walkers, tennis players, bicyclists, bench-sitters, stroller-pushers and early picnickers.

It was inspiring.

It was inspiring to see so many people out enjoying a late spring day, many of them in the rosy glow of youth and health, and many a bit on the lumpy side, like me, and yet enjoying God’s creation nonetheless.

It was inspiring to see people connecting: talking while they ran, holding hands while they walked, discussing children, diets and business, as well as everything that God alone could hear.

It was inspiring to see people making the most of aloneness. Not every person who is alone wants to be alone. But life goes on, and much goodness can come even when our only conversation is internal. Many, of course, prefer solitude.

It was inspiring to see the 19th-century dream still coming true: that if city leaders set aside space for common people to enjoy nature, they would do so, and the city would be healthier for it.

I know that life is difficult, especially now in this recession and in this expensive city as jobs dry up and much that was easily affordable now seems less attainable. But I also know that life doesn’t end just because today’s growing conditions are less than optimal.

Seeds are still being scattered, families and friendships are still being formed, important decisions are still being made, and the one life we have to live is here and now, not waiting for sunnier days or easier times.

Walking briskly through a busy park isn’t an in-depth encounter with anything other than one’s own thoughts. But, in the language of Jesus’ parable, I think I was seeing the mystery of kingdom seeds.

God sows what God will sow. Except in rare instances, we often don’t see the time of sowing or the time of growing. Even in a microcosm like family, where we can observe each other closely, we don’t truly know all that God is doing.

We see some of the sprouting and blossoming, and we can imagine more. We surely love to draw conclusions about what little we see. Many would like to control what is sown and what is allowed to reach full grain. But, in fact, God the sower is a mystery. In the kingdom of God, small seeds become large shrubs, and we often don’t know how. Or when.

Part of trusting God is accepting the goodness of what God sows, even when it bears surprising fruit. Saints, it seems, aren’t perfected beings, but those who let God sow at will, both in themselves and in others.

One reason Jesus taught in parables was to discourage us from getting too literal, too specific and too self-congratulatory about what we believe God wants. As certain as we feel about God’s will, God’s kingdom is marked by grace, not by predictability or by control.

What, then, are we to say about a Sunday morning kaleidoscope that bears little resemblance to anything overtly religious? Maybe we don’t say anything, but just observe, just look at this liveliness and health, and marvel that, for all the words we have put into God’s mouth, God still does what God wants to do.

(Tom Ehrich is a writer, church consultant and Episcopal priest based in New York. He is the author of “Just Wondering, Jesus,” and the founder of the Church Wellness Project, http://www.churchwellness.com. His Web site is http://www.morningwalkmedia.com.)