Mark 4:26-34
4thSunday after Pentecost Lectionary 11
Do you remember your high school English class, the one where you learned about allegories and fables? David Lose, to whom I give great thanks for his guidance with our passage, says that fables and allegories are meant to teach and instruct. Filtering the mustard seed story through an allegory lens leads us to conclude that our faith starts out small, and when it is tended, it grows. Approached as a fable, and we learn that God will use our small faith to do big things. These are certainly safe ways to interpret our reading.
But what if, as Jesus so plainly tells us, this story is a parable? Parables are not safe; they are provocative. They are meant to throw into question what we think we know. Parables create an “AHA!” moment. If the story of the mustard seed is a parable, we need to look beyond the obvious. One of the more noticeable aspects of our story that deserves to be examined is the mustard seed itself. A mustard, in fact, as our master gardeners will tell you, is not actually the smallest of seeds. That honor belongs to an orchid seed. A mustard seed was used medicinally, and like it is today, a spice. But it is a weed, and not just simply a weed. It is a weed on steroids.
When I moved into my house, we were looking for a plant that would act as a screen between my property and my neighbor’s. My husband wanted to plant bamboo. People warned us, don’t do that. You will be sorry! Once it is planted, it will take over your yard. Nothing can stop it. Kudzu, the plant that ate the South, works the same way. Both plants are invasive. They get out of control. Mustard shrubs are like that. They are wild and unpredictable. They go where they are not wanted and then they take over. This is what the kingdom of God is like, Jesus tells us. And those birds that made their nests in it? The last time Jesus talked about birds, in the parable of the sower, they were eating seeds off the path. So that their seeds are not eaten, farmers put up scarecrows to keep the birds out. Birds were an undesirable presence. Just like the unfavorable men and women that Jesus hung out with.
To the people listening Jesus, hearing the kingdom of God being compared to a mustard seed must have challenged them. What they had expected was a regal forest arising from the noble cedars God planted. That’s the story that had been passed down to them. The image of Israel’s greatness brought about through God, according to Ezekiel, was this majestic tree, which would stand tall and strong against their enemies. Jesus replaced their story of stately cedars with one about invasive bamboo and kudzu full of people no one else viewed as valuable.
If you have watched the news lately, or if you woke up this morning, this invasion of weeds is actually good news! God is breaking in to disrupt and overpower our real enemies,–fear and injustice and a mentality of scarcity. Those whom the world finds undesirable, those who are poor, disabled, mentally ill, or of a different race or ethnicity, will have a safe home in God’s kingdom, like the birds resting in the shelter of the mustard bush. Nothing will stop it from taking over. God’s invasion into our world is where our hope lies. It’s this hope that gives us power. It’s this hope that overcomes fear. It is this hope that calls us to be an instrument in bringing in God’s kingdom.
Our hope is well founded. We are surrounded with God’s kingdom coming among us. Look for places where fear is overcome. Search for where those who are oppressed find liberation. When I looked for places in which God’s kingdom is breaking in, I immediately thought about Malala. When she was 16 years old, this young lady won the Nobel Peace Prize. This Pakistani woman was shot in her face by the Taliban. She had struck fear into them because of her advocacy for the education of females. Rather than silencing Malala, their actions drew even more attention to her work. Because of her, and with the power of her witness, there will be thousands of girls in Pakistan getting an education. Malala is an instrument of hope. Hope is not only invasive, it is contagious.
God’s kingdom will grow into its fullness. It begins now. It starts as small seeds and grows in places we cannot even imagine. There is hope all around us. It is where you find light entering into darkness. You will find it when someone says, “I’m sorry,” and “I forgive you.” Hope is the cry of a newborn baby. Hope is supporting students in Tanzania so that they are educated to use their God-given gifts. It’s a white guy clearing the weeds out of a long forgotten African-American cemetery. Hope is praying with people whose political views are different than yours. Hope looks like a flower sticking up out of the cracks in the sidewalk and a double rainbow stretching across the sky. Hope is a dog and a cat eating out of the same dish.
I am giving you homework this week! Here is your mission. Look for mustard seeds. Look for places where God creates hope. It may not be obvious. Take a picture! Write it down! Send them to me by e-mail (pastorcg@saintstephenlutheran.net). I will make a spot for your sightings on our church’s FaceBook page so that others will be inspired.
God’s kingdom is now. God’s kingdom is coming. It is coming with hope, invasive hope.
~Pastor Cheryl Ann Griffin