Mt 13:31-33, 44-52

27 July 2008

“Building the Earth”

            The kingdom of heaven.  What can I say about the kingdom of heaven?  My qualifications for the job are pretty slim.  However, our gospel text in Matthew has Jesus performing that job.  He’s pictured as describing the kingdom of heaven.  But does he really?  In reality, what he’s giving the crowds (who are the “them” in verse 31) is a series of parables.  And the meaning of “parable,” going all the way back to ancient Greek, is “comparison.”

            Given the limitations of human language, not to mention the human mind, comparisons are probably the best thing we could hope for.  I think I’m safe in saying that that’s at least one big reason why Jesus uses so many parables.

            Jesus’ words, “kingdom of heaven,” are often—if indeed, not usually—thought of simply as “heaven.”  And by “heaven,” I’m talking about something that exists and happens after we die.  I’m talking about something that is not of this world—meaning that it has nothing to do with this planet.  It has nothing to do with this life, here and now.

            It’s very hard to rid ourselves of the notion of disembodied spirits.  They may not be, as in the cartoons, sitting on clouds and playing harps, but it seems difficult for us to imagine anything that doesn’t involve leaving behind matter, leaving behind substance.  It just doesn’t seem spiritual!

            One of the most interesting, and I suppose frustrating, things about Jesus is how little he sounds spiritual!  The sacrament at the center of our faith even involves eating and drinking.  Thinking of things that go down the gullet and become digested isn’t what one would typically consider to be spiritual!

What about the meaning of Christmas itself?  A human being, perfectly reflecting the divine, in a human body, with all the smells and secretions that go along with it, doesn’t seem terribly spiritual.  And those are just two of the many ways that the gospel of Christ overturns our preconceptions.

            As our scripture text begins, Jesus has already been dishing out some of that upside-down stuff!  Matthew starts things off at the beginning of chapter 13.  At this point, we have Jesus associating the kingdom of heaven with a lowly mustard seed—not the most impressive of comparisons (vv. 31-32).

            He follows that by saying the kingdom is like yeast that a woman mixed with some flour (v. 33).  This, too, might be seen as less than impressive.  First of all, yeast, or leavening, was often associated with sin and impurity.  Add to that the fact that the other active agent in the parable, besides the yeast, is a woman.  As we’ve noted on many occasions, the social value of women in that culture was far from exalted.

            Two more parables of the kingdom, the “treasure hidden in a field” and the “pearl of great value,” speak of how it is both unnoticed and priceless (vv. 44-46).  In every age, there are those who make a big show of themselves.  They do a lot of talking (and now, texting), but they say very little.

            The parable of the dragnet is similar to the one that appears earlier in the chapter, the weeds among the wheat.  In part, it speaks of the difficulty we have in distinguishing between the good and the evil.  Still, given enough time, as Jesus indicates, people prove unable to hide their true nature.

            Based on what I’ve said so far, Matthew’s presentation of Jesus doesn’t sound very threatening.  As a quick side note:  Matthew is the only gospel writer who uses the phrase “kingdom of heaven.”  The other gospels speak of the “kingdom of God.”  It’s believed that Matthew is especially concerned to present Jesus in ways that appeal to Jews, who would be reluctant to use the name of God.

            Anyway, as I’ve said, Jesus isn’t saying stuff that sounds too intimidating.  Certainly, it’s not intimidating enough for the religious leaders to plot against him.  That is, there’s no threat if you think the kingdom of heaven means pie in the sky when you die!

            But that is not the way the crowds understand him.  It’s been pointed out “that the Kingdom of Heaven that Jesus talked…about was not as much a vision of…the afterlife…as it was a radical sketch of what this life, ‘here and now,’ would be like if God (as opposed to earthly rulers) were in control.”[1]

            The people listening to Jesus’ upside-down talk can easily see how it might be a threat to the powers that be.  “The Kingdom of Heaven was Jesus’ subversive theopolitical vision.  [That means he challenges the usual ways of looking at both God and government.]  When Jesus spoke about the Kingdom of God, his hearers would have picked up on its heavily political meaning immediately, because they lived under two separate oppressive kingdoms:  the kingdom of Herod and the kingdom of Caesar.”  We’re told, “The Gospel is at its heart a subversive political message that has yet to be fully heard and heeded.”[2]

            Is that true?  Can it be possible that the way of Christ has yet to be really heard and followed?  I’m aware of many who say that Christianity has failed.  If we’re talking about a structure of rules and regulations posing as Christianity, then I might agree.  But there are indeed many who say it’s true:  the gospel has yet to even be tried.

            To think of heaven as spacey and somewhere far away is safe.  But to think of heaven—to think of the kingdom—as right here and yearning to burst out in our midst is decidedly unsafe.  It’s unsafe to say, as Jesus does in Matthew 5, that “unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven” (v. 20).

They want nothing to do with the life of that kingdom; they don’t want to give up control.  They’re afraid of embracing God’s dream for the world.

            In Luke’s gospel we read, “Once Jesus was asked by the Pharisees when the kingdom of God [the kingdom of heaven] was coming, and he answered, ‘The kingdom of God is not coming with things that can be observed [think about that!]; nor will they say, “Look, here it is!” or “There it is!”  For, in fact, the kingdom of God is among you’” (17:20-21).

            Why is thinking of heaven that way unsafe?  Why is it safer to think of it as something we have nothing to do with?  Is it less dangerous if we say that the kingdom of heaven is not about earth?

            Someone who insisted on this theme until he became an embarrassment to those both inside and outside the church was Christoph Friedrich Blumhardt.  That name should be familiar to those who joined us in Sunday school when we studied his book, Jesus is the Victor.

            There’s a very nice work edited by Vernard Eller, Thy Kingdom Come, which is a compilation of Blumhardt’s writing.[3]  He presents Christoph’s deep conviction that “God is now creating a new reality on earth, a reality to come first among [humanity] but finally over all creation, so that the earth and the heavens are renewed.  God is creating something new.  A new history is starting.  A new world is coming to earth.”[4]

            My sermon title comes from the French priest and scientist, Pierre Teilhard de Chardin.  In speaking of “building the earth,” he also emphasizes our role in the prayer we pray each Sunday:  “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.”

            Blumhardt’s rejection of playing harps while lounging on clouds leads him to ask stuff like, “Where in all the scriptures does God comfort [us] with a hereafter?  The earth shall be filled with the glory of God.”[5]  Both the law and the prophets provide him support.  We read in the book of Numbers:  “all the earth shall be filled with the glory of the Lord” (14:21).  The prophet Habakkuk says that “the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea” (2:14).

            That message is in the New Testament, as well.  In Revelation, John says, “I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband.  And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, ‘See, the home of God is among mortals.  He will dwell with them; they will be his peoples, and God himself will be with them’” (21:2-3).

            I’ve already mentioned how Christoph Blumhardt wound up as not the most popular guy around.  Here’s a quote that may prove my point:  “today people sit in the churches thinking mostly about themselves.  [This is late nineteenth century Germany.]  One would like to call out to them all:  ‘People, forget yourselves!  Think of God’s cause.  Start to do something for it.  Don’t be sorry for yourself; or at least be sorry that you have nothing to do but worry about your own petty concerns.’

“Our greatest lack is that we are of no use to the Lord; no wonder, then, that we go to ruin in spite of all our culture.”[6]  Maybe he’s overstating his case, but I still need to say, “Ouch!”

            Don’t think that by having this attitude, he’s being heartless!  He does us a favor by having us check our priorities.  Obviously, if I’m going off course, I’d prefer a gentle reminder.  (You know, speaking the truth in love—maybe he thinks this is tough love!)  But if there’s a choice between crashing and burning and dealing with somebody in my face, I’d have to choose the latter!

            Just in case it’s not already clear, I’ll say it here.  Alone, we can’t make the kingdom come!  To revisit Christoph:  “Neither political endeavors nor Christian piety will bring in the kingdom.  ‘Not through our faith, through our prayer, nor our piety, but through the deeds of God will the future city of God be revealed.’

“This [doesn’t] mean that those who await Christ’s future should just place their hands in their laps and do nothing.  Far from it!  The powers of the future are already here, and God’s people must live in these powers, responding to them, letting them grow.”[7]  What does that mean?  How do we live in the powers of the future?  How do we let them grow?

            “As Vernard Eller explains:  ‘We are to give ourselves completely to the cause of the kingdom, to do everything in our power to help the world toward that goal.  At the same time, however, we are to remain calm and patient, unperturbed even if our efforts show no signs of success.  Far from being inactivity, this sort of waiting is itself a tremendously strong and creative action in the very hastening of the kingdom.’”[8]

            We are to be unperturbed, even if our efforts show no signs of success.  The gauge of our success is faithfulness.  That can be difficult to measure.

            So here we are again, back to Jesus’ upside-down vision.  The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed, the smallest of all the seeds.  The kingdom of heaven isn’t the property of any president; it’s not the property of any preacher.

            The kingdom of heaven is the treasure hidden in a field, which requires abandonment of all else to enter.  We must divest ourselves of divided loyalties—to all of the “God and                ’s” we so often hear about.  (I’ll let you fill in the blank.)  May this be the upside-down word of the Lord for us today!

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