With what can we compare the kingdom of God, or what parable will we use for it? It is like a mustard seed, which, when sown upon the ground, is the smallest of all the seeds on earth; yet when it is sown it grows up and becomes the greatest of all shrubs, and puts forth large branches.
When I hear the parable of the mustard seed my first reaction is always to say, I resemble those remarks. It almost seems to summarize all our aspirations and hopes, doesn’t it? We all start out small, but we’d like to think that someday we’re going to sprout in such a way that everybody will stand up and take notice. This parable almost seems to give biblical credence to the American Dream that rags really can turn into riches if one would only pull themselves up by their bootstraps.
Now, if we didn’t know better, we might be tempted to think that Jesus was a 19th Century American symbolically telling the story of the seed that is a small band of pilgrims fleeing persecution on the Mayflower to eventually enjoy the manifest destiny of becoming a powerful superpower in the world, the biggest shrub in the garden.
I think many of us believe that little is not supposed to be a permanent status. . . little is to be conquered. The first church I served as rector used to be little, and we were so proud to watch it grow.
Growing can be a by-product of good ministry in the church and not necessarily the other way around. However, the most important commandment is not the commandment that says, Thou shalt be bigger than all the other churches.
I find it very interesting that Jesus doesn’t really say that the Kingdom is like a big shrub. He starts off by saying the Kingdom is like a seed, and then he goes on to tell us just how incredibly small the seed really is.
The Kingdom is like a mustard seed. STOP. When you read the parable with a pause after that initial phrase, it becomes a parable on smallness. . . on the importance of life no matter its size, on the preciousness of people:
no matter their scope of influence; no matter how many times they have failed; no matter their lifestyle; no matter which side of the border they once called home; no matter where they fall on the scale of social acceptability; no matter how much they offend our collective Victorian sensibilities.
Now here is where you’re supposed to say, Come on Bill. you always read the Gospel your own way. You always re- arrange the punctuation and phrasing and latch on to something in the story that makes sense to you.
Well, let me tell you, if you were thinking that you’d be right. I don’t believe there is any other way to read Holy Scripture.
I think people who believe they can somehow read Scripture in a no spin zone, purely objectively, are basking in the warmth of a grand illusion. I believe that many have taken that grand illusion and gathered in communities called churches as a way of running from the fear of being too small.
This grand illusion, you see, allows us to build bigger walls of exclusion and judgment; it makes us feel special because we can then so easily use the Bible as a manual on how to divide people into neat little artificial compartments of good and evil, righteous and unrighteous, worthy and unworthy.
Yes, this grand illusion allows us to use the Bible and tradition as silver bullets. . . as weapons in the purity wars. It’s a way to feel like a big shrub amid a lot of little plants, and let’s face it, nobody wants to be a peach pit, much less a tiny little mustard seed!
Now don’t get too accustomed to being king of the hill just yet. Jesus threw us an often-missed zinger in this parable that would have Horatio Alger turning over in his grave.
Mustard plants are weeds! They’re weeds in any culture! The Kingdom of God, Jesus says, is like a weed seed. Nobody intentionally sews mustard. If they get into a garden, they are usually pulled out or whacked down. You won’t find mustard sold in pots at the Garden Spot or laced into bouquets on the 1-800flowers.com website. And yes, it was the same in First Century Palestine. In fact, ancient Rabbinic Literature forbids the sowing of mustard seeds because they grow into useless and annoying weeds.
But Jesus dares to say that the Kingdom of God is like a mustard seed. Isn’t that just like Jesus? The seeds we would discard, God prefers to plant in God’s Kingdom.
Jesus would honor his God by having us cherish the smallest of seeds thereby having us cherish the last, the
lost, the little and the least. We cherish them not just for what they might become, but for who they are right now.
Why is it so hard then, I wonder, for the church to celebrate the present moment? As I was driving around town, I happened to see a big Happy Father’s Day sign on the lawn in front of a church. I thought it was kind of neat, but then I read a proviso on the sign in smaller print that read: To those fathers who make a difference.
Now don’t get me wrong here, I fully understand what they were trying to say, but I found myself recounting all my faults as a father, and by the time I got home I was certain that I was not intended for that Father’s Day greeting!
Do you see how easy it is for the church to give the message that we’re never good enough in God’s eyes? That message has been preached for 2,000 years, and it hasn’t done that much good. I think it’s time for a new message. Why couldn’t they just wish us all a Happy Father’s Day, and leave off the righteous proviso?
Instead of gathering to find ways to further discriminate and separate, the church should be a safe planting ground for seeds of all shapes and sizes, even and especially the smallest of seeds, whether they sprout into a ground hovering thistle or into a cedar of Lebanon. . . in fact, whether or not they sprout at all.
And finally, we should remember that mustard seed is not sown by us, it is scattered by the breath of God. We do not water it and tend to it; it is nourished by God. Everything it is and everything it becomes is not the Mustard plant’s doing, but God’s doing. God, you see, has given us all the ingredients necessary to have a KINGDOM of God, right here and right now.
Let us pray (from Ephesians 3):
Glory to God whose power working in us, can do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine. Glory to God from generation to generation in the church and in Christ Jesus for ever and ever. AMEN.
Refreshing!
Thank you Barbara. I hope all is well with you.