Matthew 13:31-33
July 27, 2014
There are a
certain series of sounds that when strung together in a certain way, not only
capture my attention, but force me to completely re-focus my energies.
I may be
listening to my favorite song on Alt Nation Radio…
That
comes to an end.
I may be in
deep conversation solving all the problems of the world with Joanne…
That
comes to an end.
The kids may
be deep into whatever they’re plotting together in the backseat…
That
comes to an end.
All comes to
an end when that unmistakable chorus of sounds crescendos from the pavement in
a cacophonous mixture of whines and rhythmic thuds literally stopping us dead
in our tracks.
Maybe you’ve
had a similar experience.
If you’ve ever been driving somewhere and you
blow out a tire on your car, then you’ve probably experienced what our family
did this past week while travelling home from Cleveland.
All is fine
until you begin to feel that the car isn’t as steady on the road – and what you
think is the road becoming noisier is in fact your car riding on a rapidly
deflating tire. Within seconds the whine
evolves into a rhythmic thump which ultimately becomes a squishy thud and there
you are – dead in your tracks – going nowhere.
Squishy
thuds that stop us dead in our tracks:
Not just for cars anymore.
Jesus knows
something about “squishy thuds”, for that is what he gives us this morning with
six simple words:
“The Kingdom of Heaven is like…”
With these
words, Jesus pushes me off balance with provocative twists. He rearranges my faith furniture.
Jesus tells
me that the Kingdom of Heaven is like:
A Mustard Seed –
Though a horticulturalist will rightly tell us that the
mustard seed is not actually the smallest of seeds, it is nonetheless a seed
and therefore one can assume fairly small in stature and not yet what it fully will
be.
But I don’t want a seed – I want an oak. I want the Kingdom of Heaven to be mighty and
sturdy and insanely tall – able to weather all kinds of storms. I want the
Kingdom of Heaven to tower over everything else where there are more cars in
our parking lot on a Sunday morning than at Wegmans.
I want brass bands and flags unfurled announcing that God’s
reign of justice and mercy is not only here but is kicking butt and taking
names.
I don’t want a seed which takes time to grow. I want the promised shade tree now. I want results right here – right now. I want the silver bullet program that is
going to bring hundreds of people into our pews next Sunday.
I want to be able to report on our ELCA Parochial forms that
worship attendance at Incarnate Word is skyrocketing through the roof that
synodical benevolence is the envy and talk of all the synod and that Joanne and
I are the highly sought-after Biblical studies gurus in this synod and beyond.
But apparently that is not how Jesus works. Or at least how the “squishy thud” of the
Kingdom of Heaven works. As much as I
may want one, Jesus never speaks of a magical get-rich-quick scheme for the
church. He doesn’t come armed with a
church program guaranteeing a 40% increase in worship attendance or your money
back.
He doesn’t come with glitzy brochures plastered with a sea of
happy, smiling faces promising instant success if you just add drums, amps,
electric guitars and a big audio/visual screen to your worship space.
Instead Jesus gathers a bunch of illiterate, impoverished
nobodies around him sending them out to bear God’s foolish, prophetic, outwardly
feeble and scandalous Kingdom to a world addicted to success, numbers and
organizational survival.
What congregation would ever call a pastor who didn’t promise
to help preserve the institution by getting more warm bodies into their pews? Especially young families with lots of money
to toss into the offering plate?
What faith community would call a pastor who said that
worship attendance doesn’t tell the whole story of the congregation and that in
some cases smaller churches are preferable to larger ones? That it’s just in the DNA that some churches
are small and others are large? And that
Jesus needs small churches just as much as he needs large ones?
Is it possible that when Jesus compares the Kingdom of Heaven
to a mustard seed, he is not comparing it to the latest evangelism program of a
3.7 million member denomination?
Instead he is comparing it to your arms and mine …
extending an embrace,
giving
food
providing
shelter?
Is it
possible that what Jesus treasures is not more churches, but more followers? Those who enflesh God’s reality of doing
justice, loving kindness and walking humbly with God?
The Kingdom of Heaven is like a
mustard seed.
Who better
to talk of a seemingly small and inconsequential mustard seed than the one
whose own birth seemed small and whose death seemed inconsequential? Whose Good Friday seed of death (against all
odds) blossomed into Easter Resurrection?
So where is
the Kingdom of Heaven? Just look around
and listen. Looking and listening...
not for the loudest
and the largest but for the least and the last.
The Kingdom of Heaven is like a
mustard seed.
Complete with squishy thuds and all.
