Pentecost 3B
June 14, 2015
Mark 4:26-34
Okay, I’ve
got a pop quiz for you this morning: In the Bible, what topic does Jesus talk
about more than any other? [Kingdom of God]
Okay, next
question on the quiz is more of an essay question: what is the kingdom of God?
[take ideas]
I asked this
question of both churches’ councils this week as well as Bethlehem’s Wednesday
prayer group, and I got some similar answers, and some very different answers
from each group. The most common answer was that the Kingdom of God is heaven,
the afterlife, the eternal life that faith in Christ promises. That is true,
but it’s not the whole truth. In fact, as Lutherans we talk about the kingdom
of God as something “already” here on earth, even as its full expression has
“not yet” been
experienced by those of us on earth.
Thy Kingdom Come by John Lautermilch |
And that is why we pray, at least once
a week if not much more often, “Thy kingdom come.” Anyone ever thought about
what that actually means when we say those words in the Lord’s Prayer? Martin
Luther explained them, in his Small Catechism, this way: “[God’s] kingdom comes
of itself without prayer, and yet we pray that it may come also to us.” In
other words, when we pray for God’s kingdom to come, we are praying that we
here on earth might live according to God’s will. In fact, you could say that “thy
kingdom come, thy will be done” is actually just saying the same thing twice.
So to say this prayer is to live as members of and participants in that
kingdom.
Well, if we
are praying to be participants in God’s kingdom, it’s pretty important that we
know something about what that is and what it means, don’t ya think? And that’s
why Jesus talks so much about it. How convenient that two of the parables he
tells about the kingdom of God are what we heard in our Gospel lesson today!
Let’s take a look and see what we can learn.
First we
have the parable of the sower who scatters seed, but doesn’t have to really do
anything to make the seed grow. He sleeps, he wakes, and the seed grows, then
the grower harvests it. What can we learn from this parable about the kingdom
of God? I think the first thing is that the
kingdom of God is active, growing.
As soon as those seeds are scattered, the grain progressively grows and
develops into something more than where it started. For this reason, in part,
many scholars feel that “kingdom of God” is a poor translation, because the
word “kingdom” doesn’t go anywhere. That is, Jesus cannot “kingdom” the world.
The word in Greek translated here as “kingdom” can actually be treated as a noun
OR a verb. A better translation, then, is “reign of God.” As in, we live under
Christ’s reign, and Christ reigns
over us and in us. It is an action. It has the ability to move and grow, just
like those seeds the sower scatters. So, to capture that potential for action
and growth, from here on out, I will refer to the “reign of God” instead of
“the kingdom of God.” You with me? Okay, going on…
Second thing
we can learn from this parable is that the reign of God is, plain a simple, a
mystery. “The seed would sprout and grow, he does not know how,” Jesus says.
Scholars over the centuries have spilled much ink trying to make sense of this
line, which only appears in Mark’s gospel. Does it mean we don’t have to do
anything? That we are given permission to live so-called Christian lives that
are characterized not by love in action but by sloth and apathy? Doubtful! But
if the grower doesn’t do anything and he doesn’t even know how this is
happening, then what is our role? But I don’t think this particular parable is
trying to tell us our role. I think it is, rather, urging us to notice and
appreciate the mystery that is God’s reign. How many of us have had
metaphorical seeds planted in our lives that may have seemed meaningless at the
time, but progressively grew into something essential – we knew not how, but there
it was. How many have found in themselves a strange stirring of the Spirit that
they didn’t expect, and they knew not how but suddenly found themselves in a
new sort of ministry, a new way of service, a new way of knowing God? God’s
reign is indeed a mystery, moving in us and in the world in ways we cannot
understand or predict, but rather, for which we can only offer our thanks and
praise and awe.
Ok, so we now
know two things about the reign of God: 1) That God’s reign is active and
growing, not merely a location, and, 2) God’s reign is a mystery. Let’s move on
to the second parable, the well-worn parable of the mustard seed, in which a
tiny little seed grows into a great big bush, big enough for birds to make
homes and find shade in its branches. This is a parable we love to tame, saying,
“Just a little bit of faith can grow big and strong!” It’s so nice, and the
birds are so nice
and it’s just a really feel-good parable, right? But to its
first century hearers, this parable really packs a punch. First, a word about
mustard plants: they are an invasive species. That is, they grow and grow,
rapidly and increasingly and not always where you want them to. They are like
the weeds in my garden which, even if I get them all out one day, they will be
back again if I don’t get mulch on there right away (which, of course, I never
do). They are like kudzu in the south, taking over whole fields. What then,
does this plant have to teach us about the reign of God? That the reign of God
is expansive, invasive, it grows in ways that we don’t expect, cannot tame, and
might not even like! We may try to contain it, claiming it only for a certain
group at a certain time, but in the end, it will grow just wherever and however
it pleases. This can be uncomfortable and disconcerting for those of us who
like to keep faith and God and church in a neat little box. But the reign of
God cannot fit into a neat little box! It will burst out and grow – on the
other side of the tracks, on the bad side of town, in the hearts of those of
whom we are afraid, of those who are different from us.
Field of wild mustard |
Which brings
us to the last point I’ll mention today about the reign of God, and that has to
do with those birds making their home in the big branches of this wild n’ crazy
invasive mustard plant.
We think of birds as nice, beautiful, interesting. We
even put feeders in our yards to draw them in. Not so in first century
Palestine. In fact, just before this, Jesus has told the parable about the
sower who throws seed on different kinds of soil (remember that one?), and the
birds are the ones who come and snatch up the seed before it can take root.
They are pests! They are undesirable. And yet, the reign of God welcomes even
them. Indeed, it invites them in… just as Christ, throughout the gospel
narrative, invites into his midst the undesirables – the sinners, the sick, the
tax collectors, the sketchy women.
And at the
end of the day, that is what the reign of God is: it is Christ. It is where
Christ lives and acts and has his being. He says to the disciples that the
reign of God “is in your midst,” and he is referring to himself. As one Lutheran
scholar writes, “Where [Jesus] was proclaiming good news, healing, calling for
repentance, effecting justice, doing works of love – there was the activity he called the kingdom. He also summoned his
followers to announce the kingdom and to be part of its activity, so it still
goes on.”[1]
He summoned his followers to announce
the kingdom and to be part of its activity – that is where we come in, where we
become a part of the reign of God, where that prayer “thy kingdom come” starts
to mean what Luther talked about, where it comes also in us.
I asked you at the beginning of this
sermon, what is the kingdom, or reign, of God? And here we have at least the
beginning of an answer: The reign of God is active – active in us, in our
works, in the way we treat one another with love and work for justice and
peace. The reign of God is a mystery – to be experienced in love and grace and
thanks and praise. The reign of God is invasive, not to be contained, but to be
marveled in. The reign of God is inviting, welcoming all to make a home in its
branches. In short, the reign of God is Christ, reigning in our midst even now
through our love for one another, our faith in a mysterious God, and our action
on behalf of the needs of the world.
Let us pray…
Reigning God, your ways are mysterious to
us, yet we long to understand them. Help us to understand your ways by living
out the purpose of your Son: welcoming the stranger, loving the despised, forgiving
the bound, and in all things, giving thanks and praise to you. In the name of
the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
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