Neither Life Nor Death

Romans 8:26-39   Matthew 13: 31-33, 44-52

Lectionary 17 ~ 8th Sunday after Pentecost 

If you were to design and create your own kingdom of heaven, what would it look like?  Would there be crystal blue oceans and diamond like sand?  Would mountains be made especially for hiking?  Would cookies always be served warm?  And would cats really be necessary?[1]

We have, over the past weeks, heard parables about the kingdom of heaven, to use Matthew’s terminology.  This kingdom has seeds falling all over the place—on rocky ground, on dry, sun-bleached earth, in the middle of thorns, and some fell on good soil, too.  While we would not let weeds into a kingdom of our own design, Jesus’ does, and those weeds are mixed right in with the good wheat.

This morning, we hear that the kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed, and yeast.  We diverge from the agricultural metaphors, and hear that the kingdom of heaven is like a treasure hidden in a field, a pearl of great value, and a net thrown into the sea, catching fish of every kind.

After saying these things about the kingdom, Jesus asks the people, “Have you understood all this?”  “Uh-huh,” they assure him.  How about you? Have you  understood all this?

Each “the kingdom is like” comparison is unique. Someone plants the mustard seed, which then grows to a shrub, and houses birds. Someone uses the yeast to make bread, which then feeds people.  The treasure in the field is found, bringing the finder tremendous joy, and so the finder sells everything to buy the entire field.  Like the treasure finder, a merchant finds one fine pearl, and sells all that he has to buy it.  The fishing net, which went out empty, came back full.

God has hidden the kingdom of heaven in ordinary things,– in fields, and seeds, and yeast, in things that are in plain view, where we don’t think to look. The kingdom of heaven is here, hidden in the everyday-ness of our lives.  It’s there in the bread, in the giggles of a child, and the smell of fresh cut grass.  This is where you will find the presence of God.  God is in our love for family, and for those whom we choose to be sisters and brothers.  God is in crocheting hats for children who might otherwise be cold in the winter, giving sneakers to children in need, and in our work, paid or unpaid.

There are places, though, where we think we will never find God. Because we live in the now-but-not-yet kingdom of heaven, not only are there platypuses, music by Mozart and cookies, there are also diseases, cancers, and dementia. Our chances of reaching God’s ultimate healing of death without first experiencing declining health are slim. That’s true not only for us, but also for those we love.  Serious illness can diminish the self, and challenge our dignity.  Relationships are impacted. Caregivers struggle to manage their exhaustion and emotions.  We come to the place where we don’t even know what to ask for, and need the Spirit to intercede with sighs too deep for words.   When the Spirit intercedes for us, in those dark places where the sound of sighs is deafening, in that place where we run out of words, the Holy Spirit is right there with us.  This is the promise of our baptism, that Christ is joined to us, and we are joined to Christ in his suffering.

What does this have to do with mustard seeds, and yeast and pearls, and treasure?  Our parables tell us is that things are not always what they seem.  Our parables tell us to look our everyday lives in that which is ordinary to find God.  In the case of illness, a smile, and a caring touch bring blessings to the one who gives and the one who receives.

Our parables of the mustard seed and the yeast teach us one more thing—to let go.  It is when the seed leaves our hands, and when the yeast is left to rise, that God grows them into something new.  We try so hard to hold on to what was, and how things used to be, and even the way we think they should be, that we may miss what God is doing this day, this hour, this moment.  In the case of illness, it is when we let go of who our loved  one was in health that we can see who they are now.

Live in the kingdom right here, right now.  God is present. Who will separate us from the love of Christ?  Will hardship, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?…  No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. We are more than conquerors. Because of, and through, Christ’s suffering, death and resurrection, what we experience today, and what we can expect of tomorrow, are transformed.

We have glimpses of the kingdom of heaven in those who overcome the challenge of addiction, and those who are struggling to be restored to wholeness. We find the kingdom  of God in the partner who faithfully cares for an ailing spouse.  We see the presence of God in those who are suffering, as they into the fullness of their baptism.

The kingdom of God is here, now.  It is here, in this promise:  Neither death, nor life, nor cancer, nor health, nor dementia, nor functionality, nor depths of depression, nor heights of joy, nor exhaustion nor great energy, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

~Pastor Cheryl Ann Griffin

[1] I actually do like cats.

Author: Pastor Cheryl Griffin

Pastor Cheryl Ann Griffin thinks God has a sense of humor for leading her into ministry, but can’t imagine doing anything else! Pastor Griffin received her BA degree from the College of William and Mary. She worked as an accountant before God led her to the Lutheran Theological Seminary at Gettysburg, where she received her Master of Divinity degree. In the Virginia Synod, Pastor Griffin is a member of the Ministerium Team and frequently leads small groups at synod youth events. She is also a representative to the VA Synod Council.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.