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Rev.
Tom Lenhart
Sermon
April 2, 2006
“A Strange Heaven?”
First Congregational Church
Matthew 13:31-33, 44—52
Let us pray.
I don’t know about you but I
don’t often think about heaven. When I do my mind either pictures an
ethereal scene of clouds and angels reminiscent of a painting by
Michelangelo, Raphael or El Greco or something utterly mundane like a
picture perfect beach where I have an endless supply of dark chocolate
cashew bark (which tells you the form my gluttony takes). Certainly, my
picture of heaven -- and I suspect yours -- does not include mustard seeds,
yeast, or fishnets. But that is what we seemingly get in today’s gospel
passage from Matthew. This text is a series of Jesus’ parables -- all
relating in one way or another to the Kingdom of Heaven. Here Jesus provides
to the disciples and the crowd by the Sea of Galilee insights into what the
Kingdom is and how one pursues it. Some of these parables the author of
Matthew took and modified from the earlier Gospel of Mark, while others were
likely in general currency and are found in slightly different forms in the
non canonical Gospel of Thomas and in Matthew’s special source scholars call
“M”. The author of Matthew has phrased them in a special way; namely – what
shall heaven be compared to -- it shall be compared, for example as we heard
in verses 31and 32, to a mustard seed that grows to a tree and similarly in
verses 45 and 46 to the pursuit and finding of a most precious pearl. This
is a classic rabbinic form of storytelling – not surprising since Matthew
was writing to a community largely made up of Jewish followers of Jesus.
Much debate has been expended on whether Jesus actually used these precise
parables. No one can know for sure as our earliest recordings of the details
of Jesus ministry date from 35 to 40 years after his death. But it is likely
that a Jew preaching largely to Jews would use the device of such parables
and would take familiar stories and refine and recast them. Whether what we
have are literally the words of Jesus is, however, not critical. The essence
of these parables undoubtedly has it genesis in the life and preaching of
Jesus.
These parables are a veritable cornucopia of
insights and teachings – although not always reflecting what on first blush
appears to be their message. Indeed, we will only scratch their surface this
morning.
Today’s passage reflects three groupings of
parables –first, the parables of the mustard seed and the yeast; second, the
parables of the buried treasure and the pearl: and finally the parable of
the fishing net. I want to talk about three things suggested by these
parables: Power, Perspective, and Passion and how they relate to the
pursuit of the Kingdom.
Brassica juncea, Brassica Juncea
for the horticultural challenged like me
– that’s what botanist call common mustard seeds. What do they have to
do with the Kingdom of Heaven or for that matter with our lives other than
as a spice added occasionally to some of our food? First of all, we must
avoid a literal reading of any of these parables. For example, the mustard
seed is not the “smallest of all seeds” though it is quite small. Second, it
doesn’t grow into a tree but a high bush.
As preachers have pointed out for centuries
on one level the message of this parable to Jesus’ followers, most
particularly Matthew’s community surviving in the shadow of Imperial Rome,
was that small, seemingly insignificant things, like mustard seeds and the
community of Jesus’ followers, would grow into a tree -- a Kingdom -- and
outlast those seemingly dominant, powerful entities of the moment such as
Imperial Rome. It was a message of hope – the Kingdom of Heaven for those
following Jesus was going to flourish despite Rome. Thus, the mustard seed
has come down to us in religious folklore as symbolizing growth from the
small to the large and powerful. And in one sense it has proven true; the
church has evolved from a few scattered, vulnerable communities of Jesus
followers, like Matthew’s, to a world-wide Church of more than a billion
adherents.
Yet, we should be cautious about accepting a
too quick and easy a reading of this parable.
Certainly, it has echoes emanating from passages in the Hebrew Bible, of the
seedling of Israel growing to a mighty Cedar rivaling the political power of
the likes of Nebuchadnrezzer’s Babylon. And it doubtless was a parable of
hope to Matthew’s beleaguered community. But when looked at more closely,
the promise of hope and for what -- becomes more complicated. Mustard seeds
do not grow to trees but simply bushes. Mustard plants were not especially
prized – they were field -- not highly sought after garden plants. If the
parable is about a glorious triumphant it is a strange symbol that has been
used. Perhaps, as I believe, the focus of the parable is not so much on the
tree -- on the size and power of the Kingdom to come -- but on what the
ordinary bush provides – shelter and security to God’s creatures.
We, of course, do not suffer from an
Imperial Shadow. But there are realities which often sap us of the hope for
the coming of the Kingdom – deadening materialism that values things
above God’s creatures, tyranny that subjects some of creation to the boot of
others, inequality and poverty that rob some of their humanity, and
oppression that negates God’s mandate that all creation is good. It is the
parable’s message about the nests in the branches that I believe is apt for
us. Certainly, for those of us in this day when religion – at least of the
mainline Protestant stripe -- seems at times small and impotent, it is
important to be reminded that small seeds of faithful action do produce
sheltering branches. As the parable of the yeast suggests small seemingly
insignificant things have profound effects and transform beyond themselves.
As every baker of bread will attest, a small amount of yeast or leaven can
profoundly change huge amounts of dough. Matthew is reminding us that
bigness and power are frequently illusory and that the kingdom often is
found and manifested in the small --the seemingly insignificant -- seed that
grows to provide shelter and in that small amount of yeast, which silently
transforms the inedible into the nourishing.
Let me be clear I am not suggesting that
these parables are an indictment of power per se. Power is in its purest
form morally neutral—it can be used for good or ill. But as Lord Acton
famously observed, power too often corrupts and corrupts in proportion to
its strength. Think of the reformers over the years who have come to power
-- only to become despots seduced by the very power they sought to harness.
What these parables are saying is that the Kingdom of Heaven isn’t measured
by power –by the size of the tree—but in the nurture and shelter that is
provided. Power is never the goal at best it is a useful vehicle.
Matthew is warning us against a loss of
perspective. As we all know where one is located in time and place is
critical. Who here has not stood several feet in front of an impressionist
painting at the Metropolitan Museum or the Frick, for example a pointillist
painting by Seurat, blinded by dabs of color and points of paint. Moving
just a few steps back makes all the difference; the painting opens and
unfolds before us. Likewise, how many of you have returned to the place of
your childhood after many years as I recently did. The tall climbing tree in
the front yard is not nearly as tall as remembered. The distance to the
Little League field that was seemingly miles from home is now discovered to
be less than a mile down the road. Perspective is critical. As we pursue the
Kingdom we must guard against the instant assessment of what is important
and in this day and age against the seduction of size and power. We must
pause and, yes, take a few steps to readjust and look to see how the nests
in the branches are doing.
The late Justice Harry Blackman tells a
story about Marian Anderson, the great contralto of the 20th
century.
Ms. Anderson was being interviewed about what was the greatest moment in her
life. The interviewer expected the answer to be the night the great
conductor, Arturo Toscanini, told Marian –her’s was the finest voice of the
20th century, or the night she gave a private concert at the White House for
the King and Queen of England and President and Mrs. Roosevelt, or perhaps
it was that day in 1939 in front of the Lincoln Memorial when she sang for a
crowd of 75,000 after having been denied access to Constitution Hall, and by
so doing took an enduring step forward for African-Americans. But the answer
was none of these. No, what Ms. Anderson prized above all else was the day
she went home and told her mother she wouldn’t have to take in washing
anymore. That in my view is the perspective that Matthew was talking about –
what the Kingdom at least in this world is about. It is about small seeds
that grow to provide shelter – the size of the bush or tree is simply not
important.
So we have been reminded to
paraphrase the words of Madison Avenue that “super sized” isn’t necessarily
better-- that we need to keep our perspective – focus on the nests not the
size of the tree. But how do we do that – what does our faith demand of us?
The Kingdom of Heaven does not come to any of us without commitment and
action. Are we really challenged, however, to sell everything to gain the
Kingdom, as the tiller of the field and the merchant in today’s parables did
to get the buried treasure and the precious pearl? Again, I think we must
not read these parables too literally. The point of the parables of the
buried treasure and of the pearl is that the pursuit of the Kingdom is not
to be done half heartedly but passionately and with one’s full measure of
devotion -- using his or her unique talents and resources.
While we may not have to sell everything,
the message of these parables is nonetheless not easy. There are no half
measures -- no seeking the kingdom on our lunch hours or on our Sunday
mornings. Faith demands that it be a full time –a passionate -- pursuit.
Life cannot be compartmentalized into family, work and church/charity.
Building nests is to be done in all that we do. Why should we do this? Will
we be struck down if we don’t? Jesus’ final parable in today’s lesson of the
fishing net certainly does suggest that what we do has consequences. I for
one am not happy about the possibility of being one of the “bad” fish pulled
up in the net. But I think even more “the why” is answered by the certainty
that we will be transformed by our actions. The pursuit of the treasure and
the pearl are transforming.
Two years ago a new ministry to the homeless
called the Outdoor Church was established in Cambridge Massachusetts and I
have been privileged in a small way to be associated with it. As I thought
about the Outdoor Church in connection with today’s scripture it was clear
to me that this ministry is an example of the small mustard seed that grows
into the sheltering bush and of the yeast, which silently transforms. Each
week at three worship services and in the provision of meals and clothing,
the homeless are allowed to nest for a moment – reaffirmed in their dignity
as God’s creation. But it is not just the homeless that are sheltered. All
of us there realize the distance between us is really no longer than the
distance it takes to hand another the bread of communion or a sandwich or to
grasp the hand of another in welcome and friendship. There is yeast present
and all -- not just the homeless -- are transformed. And yes every once
awhile the transformation is visible as an addiction is overcome and a job
and lodging found.
But this passionate pursuit must also be
tempered by reflection. Why? While the merchant found the pearl for which he
was looking, the tiller of the field was not looking for and did not expect
the buried treasure he found. These parables remind us that in this pursuit
of the Kingdom, as in all life we do not control fully the circumstances or
the outcome. Total control is an illusion. It is to attempt to put
ourselves, not God, at the center of existence. It never works. Each of us
here today knows that. Who among us at one time or another has not done
everything humanly possible on a matter or project only to have it fail, the
transaction abort, or the case lost.
So does that mean it is pointless to seek to
build nests – to pursue pearls and treasure? No, I think not. What it says
is --be ready for the unexpected treasure in life. The closing of one door
often reveals the treasure behind it. Reassess one’s perspective
occasionally and be open to the unexpected. Advice that is important not
simply for us as individuals but for our churches and our nation. No
mission, project or position of any individual, church or government is so
certain that it must be protected from reevaluation.
It is also true as these parables imply that
the Kingdom is not reached solely by our own efforts. It is in the end
reached with the grace of God. So that means we can just back off and wait
for grace. Boy I wish that were the case but again I think not. A friend was
quoted in the New York Times some years ago, explaining why the late
Senator Edmund Muskie had jumped back into the Presidential race after
dropping out. As I remember the quote it was to the effect that if you want
to be struck by lightening it helps to climb up a tree. In a sense the
Kingdom of Heaven is like that we have to get up in the tree and then God’s
grace will help us finish the nests.
The final parable -- of the
fishing net -- is in some ways the most difficult for us in this most modern
of worlds. It is a not so veiled reference to the day of final judgment. We
do not easily embrace a place of judgment beyond time and even more are
uncomfortable with a time of judgment in which some -- the bad fish -- are
relegated to an eternity of “weeping and gnashing of teeth.” I will confess
that I have no easy answers here. There are no logical arguments, no
syllogisms that get us to a hereafter. Certainly, those living in Matthew’s
time under persecution and oppression focused on a better future in heaven.
We rarely do. Leaving aside the contours of a hereafter and the nature of
any final judgment for another day and sermon, I do think a key message of
this parable is that what we do –who we are – how we pursue the Kingdom
matters. And I think it matters not simply in the moment but in a more
profound and eternal sense. Indeed to recognize that -- is to place God at
the center of our lives.
I want to end with a short
parable. In Eastern Europe during the Middle Ages two Rabbis met. The first
Rabbi said to the other “you know when I die I am worried that God will ask
why I haven’t been more like Moses.” The other Rabbi responded, “Rabbi Akiba,
the question will not be why you haven’t been more like Moses but why you
haven’t been more like Akiba.” I think the lesson of our parables is that if
we seek the Kingdom of Heaven here and now with perspective and passion, we
just might be able to answer that question confidently if asked of us. Amen
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