Matthew 13:31-33, 44-46, 52

Today we ask, “What are we to make of these tiny parables?” The kingdom of God is like a tiny grain of mustard seed, like yeast or leaven, like treasure buried in a field, like a pearl of great value. What can we learn from these few words, these puzzling parables?

It’s tempting to see them as simplistic, taking them at face value. As we’ve noted previously, when we do that, we run the risk of missing out on the nuance that was intended by Jesus. And we miss the fact that by their very nature parables are intended to intrigue and even confound us.

Remember that a short while ago we noted the recent notion of speaking not of the kingdom, but the kin-dom of God.

I like this idea, and I think Jesus would as well. The word kingdom evokes domination, power, and control. Whereas the work kin-dom lifts up the importance of relationship, and that my friends is what Jesus was all about. So what do these parables say about relationship, kin-dom?

Let’s take the shortest of the parables, the one sentence parable. The New International Version (NIV) of the Bible says:  “The kingdom of Heaven is like yeast, taken by a woman and put into three measures of flour until the whole lot had risen.”

Well, okay, but isn’t that what yeast is supposed to do?

So, what insight might another translation provide? With this passage we find that sometimes even our older translations are helpful. In the King James Version we read: Another parable He spoke to them: “The kingdom of heaven is like leaven, which a woman took and hid in three ^[a]measures of meal till it was all leavened.”

Leaven, not the little packets of fast rising yeast we buy today that sits on the shelf or in the refrigerator or freezer for months until inspiration strikes us and we pull out a recipe that we remember from our mother or grandmother, or maybe we call Sandy for her recipe for sweet rolls. Okay now I’ve got my mouth’s watering for a yummy cinnamon bun with gooey caramel and maybe a few nuts on top. Maybe you can just taste them, too. But I digress.

No, for an old-fashioned parable we need and old-fashioned word. Leaven in those was not the little packet of yeast, but more like a sour dough starter today. A starter must be tended and fed to be ready for baking tomorrow, and the next day, and next week. They say some of the most prized starters have been tended for years and even decades.

But that, as we know, was not the Jewish practice. Every year at Passover all the yeast, all the leaven, in the household was diligently cleaned out and started afresh. They recognized that leaven like relationships could go bad. There might be a hot spell or a delay in feeding and the sour smell would turn foul, putrid, and it would be time to throw out the whole batch and start over.

So now that we have a better idea of one of the ingredients, the leaven or the yeast, let’s look at another translation. The New Revised Standard Version (NRSV) says: He told them still another parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like yeast that a woman took and mixed into about sixty pounds of flour until it worked all through the dough.” 

Wow! Sixty pounds!! Sixty pounds!!  Picture it! Six ten-pound bags, or if you prefer, another version describes it as a bushel of flour. Yes, three measures of flour is the amount one might ask for when visiting the mill for a month’s supply. This isn’t just your family supper we’re talking about. This is a meal for a festive occasion, dinner for a crowd, a reunion, even for the entire town!

Now we see where it is Jesus might be going with this. It’s another teaching about nurture and hospitality. We must nurture the yeast. We must attend diligently to Jesus’ teaching about our relationships with one another. And we must spread that Good News and that goodwill around. Be generous even extravagant in our sharing.

I believe Jesus is asking us to nurture all our relationships. I was reminded of something from one of the autobiographies of Maya Angelou. Her mother, she said, in speaking about relationships told Maya that if she had only one smile to give away that day, she should give it to someone at home. “Don’t go out and waste it out on the street on someone you don’t even know.” She said to give that one smile to someone at home. Perhaps it was her mother’s equivalent of the saying, “Charity begins at home.” Practice first at home and then take it out on the streets.

Now Maya took this teaching from her mother and those she learned growing up with her grandmother. She took teachings from the Unity church of her young adulthood and from her diverse life experiences and became one of the warmest most generous of people, sharing her wisdom through language and art. In recent years, before her death, in an interview with Oprah Winfrey*, she was asked, “So what words do you turn to for comfort?” Her answer was simply, “Love”…. And then she elaborated, “Love is that condition in the human spirit so profound that it allows us to forgive.”

My friends I believe this statement gets to the core of Jesus teachings. Love well. Nurture relationship. Practice at home and spread that love generously around.

In this time of pandemic, we need to remember Jesus teachings to nurture and love all people, even our enemies. And one of the easiest and most visible ways to show that love is by wearing a mask to protect ourselves, and even, more especially to protect others. So, as we say a blessing for our masks today, let us remember Jesus’ call to love one another so that we are moved to live it out in words and actions.

 

* Interview with Oprah Winfrey, Supersoul, The Revelation That Changed Dr. Maya Angelou’s Life 5/19/2013 http://www.oprah.com/own-super-soul-sunday/the-revelation-that-changed-maya-angelous-life-video

Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43
Romans 8:12-25

I’ve been thinking about an idea that God plants weeds suggested this week in a poem* by Steve Garnaas-Holmes. I remember that we are not always in agreement about which plants are weeds. Many folks think of dandelions as weeds spending lots of time and energy ridding their lawns of them. But others remind us how important they are in the life cycle of bees. Dandelions are a great source of nectar for bees as they go about the work of fertilizing flowers and food crops. Some people eat dandelions in salad are use them and their relative chicory as a beverage. It’s not so clear what plants are weeds after all.

Folks, I’m going to tell you right not, this was not an easy week. In preparing for today, I worked a lot on this sermon, thought about the text, studied, wrote and rewrote it. Maybe there’s still more that could be done and maybe that’s the point of the reading today. Maybe we need to stop and think about what in our life is wheat or productivity, and what is weeds or distraction.

Here I am trying to be productive, or if not productive, at least faithful and all these weeds are getting in the way. The simplest tasks are overlaid with Covid concerns. Will it be safe, the distancing, the masks? Can I trust others to act responsibly? What are their values? Everything must be measured by the Covid yardstick.

I’ve been trying to plan vacation while remembering past vacations and what I had expected to do this summer. What’s out? What’s in? I think of people I hoped to see this summer, friends and family. They live in Covid hotspots. Traveling to see them is not an option. Meanwhile my social media feed tugs at my heart, offering reminders of friends and places I visited in times past. I used to say when I lived in a small Iowa town, that social media kept me connected. Now it’s not only a source of connection, but also of grief.

The constant reevaluation of risk and need translates into a lot of worry and sadness, and it’s tiring. This week’s parable led me to think of it as life as among the weeds.

What heaviness do you hold in your body and in your heart?

What weeds are in your garden threatening to choke the life out of you?

What do you mourn in this time?

When we turn to our sacred texts, we see there’s a ritual for that – lament. There’s even a form for it. Many of the psalms are words of lament. They begin with indignation, with anger, or at the very least an expression of unfairness at a world gone awry.

God, I’m angry. I can’t see the people I love.

It isn’t fair. This virus is out of control

and it’s getting on my nerves.

People debate and disagree about how to respond,  

The lack of clarity and distrust is only making it worse.

Just make it go away! Make it stop!!!

What heaviness do you hold in your body and in your heart?

What weeds are in your garden threatening to choke the life out of you?

As we gather here this morning, I know that for many of us one of the things near the top of our list of weeds is the need to do church differently right now. I hear you. I miss seeing you all in person. I’m concerned about church members, aware of their needs, and struggles, and pastoral care as I have long envisioned it is hampered by limitations on connecting in-person.

Not only that, I long for the times I’d say hello to Bob who sat at the door greeting all of us,

guests and members alike on Sunday morning. I miss the hospitality and care of the women and men who offer a cup of coffee or tea and a friendly smile and kind words. I miss the little surprises I’d find on my desk after worship when I’d find that Dolly, or Sophie, or Annette, or Sonia left a treat there, something I just had to try even if I was counting carbs and calories. I miss hearing the singing and the choir, live and in person. Miss the hugs and high fives, the handshakes and fist bumps of the adults and children who are passing the peace.

And here’s the sad part, even if we were to go back into the sanctuary next Sunday, all those things would still be missing. They are the things that are unsafe in this time. Yes, coming back together would be like pulling up the weeds in the field and finding ourselves uprooted as well, still deep in grief.

So, what can we do? What should we do? I’m not going to consider the last part of the question. I know there is a lot of debate about what we should do. And we have a team of faithful folks considering how to proceed. We know that the church has faced difficult times in the past, times when there was no clear path forward. And yet it survives. We survive. And we know that the virus we face is very contagious and serious. It is serious enough to give us pause.

Pause…… now that we CAN do. In the pause we can commit ourselves to gratitude and to hope.

That in fact is the next part of the formula of lament. You see, having expressed sorrow, lament refuses to dwell there. After anger, it moves on to remembrance. It speaks to awareness of the ways God shows up, has shown up in the past, and might yet show up again today, moving to hope in the midst of uncertainty.

We have words of encouragement from Romans today: I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us. For the creation waits in eager expectation for the children of God to be revealed.

We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. …. [and] if we hope for what we do not yet have [as we most certainly do], we wait for it patiently.**

While mourning the things that are out, things that we miss, remembering God’s presence in former trials makes room for gratitude, for things previously taken for granted. It makes room for creativity reminding us of the tools we do have and can use. It commends the tools we possess as members of the body of Christ.

We begin to celebrate those who have stepped up in this time. We rejoice that shared leadership is strengthening our connections. While they cannot meet in person the choir and members of the music and worship committee meet virtually to discuss how they can bring their gifts of music and melody to worship. We all benefit from hearing the diversity of voices lead our worship.

Perhaps in the end we will celebrate how the weeds of this moment the forced solitude and separation have in fact brought us closer as we are called from week to week by members of the telephone team and as we pick up the phone ourselves and call those folks we miss seeing and spend some time in conversation. Perhaps in the end this time will lead us to imagine new ways of doing and being church. Perhaps the time of quiet has opened our eyes to matters that did not concern us in the hurried life we led before.

My friends, let’s not let the weeds get to us. What we are doing now is faithful and worthy. The connections we are making and nurturing are lifegiving and sustaining. We are reaching out, living in community, spreading the Good News one can of vegetables, one jar of peanut butter, one telephone call, and one Zoom meeting at a time. It is good and holy work we are doing. Thanks be to God. 

*Steve Garnaas-Holmes, “Weeds,” Unfolding Light, https://www.unfoldinglight.net/reflections/ct7j58r82ldgpwkwa7xx9gflrena7e
**Romans 8: 18-19, 22, 25 NIV