The Episcopal Church Welcomes You!

Sunday, July 30, 2017

As Plain to See



Proper 12A; Matt. 13:31-33, 44-52; St. Paul’s, 7/30/2017
Jim Melnyk: “As Plain to See”


Have you ever walked all over the house looking for your keys only to have someone point out that they’re in your hands?  Ever look for your glasses only to discover them on top of your head?  Have you ever stood staring at one of your oldest, dearest friends while making an introduction and found yourself totally blanking on his or her name?  If you haven’t yet, don’t worry – as Yoda used to say in Star Wars: “You will – you will!”

Now I’m sure these sound like crazy questions to ask as part of a sermon dealing with a bunch of parables about the kingdom – or what I sometimes call the kindom – or communion of heaven.  Surely the kingdom of heaven isn’t like a person who wanders through the house looking for the keys she has grasped, or “hidden,” in her hands – or like the person who searches diligently through the house for the reading glasses perched, or “hidden,” on his head.  Or is it?

“Thomas Merton once said, that when it comes to the Kingdom of God, ‘we are like [someone] riding on an ox looking for an ox.’  It is there in front of our noses.  How simple,” claims another theologian, “which is probably the reason Jesus said that we had to become as a little child if we were to enter the Kingdom’s power and glory” (H. King Oehmig, Understanding the Scriptures, Year A, p, 128).

The disciples – and the people of God in every generation since – search for the coming Kingdom of heaven, and if we can believe Merton, or Jesus, the Kingdom is right there in front of our noses – or in our hands – or under the seat of our pants – or perched upon our heads. 

The Kingdom is hidden, like the tiny mustard seed in the ground or the yeast in the lump of dough, and yet it is as real and obvious as the growing shrub or the rising dough, the treasure or the pearl, the net teeming with the morning’s catch, or even the keys in our hands, the glasses perched just inches above our eyes, or the name on the tip of our tongue.

Part of the mystery of the Kingdom of Heaven is that it is hidden, and yet at the same time in plain sight; it’s the tiniest of things, and yet it flourishes beyond our imaginations; it’s realization that the promise of God – that the gift of God – is worth more than anything we have ever owned, and that it is completely beyond our command as to who gets caught up in its wonder and who does not.

As Jesus says in other places, “The Kingdom of God has come near” (Mark 1:15), and “The Kingdom of God is among you” (Luke 17:21), that is, “God’s reign is already on display in [your] midst” (New Interpreter’s Bible, footnote for Lk. 17:21).  And it is a good and wonderful gift from God.  Theologian, author and priest Robert Farrar Capon points out that not only is the reign of God among us, but Capon insists that the parables of Jesus can be heard to say the reign of God has always been among us – if we have ears to hear and eyes to see.  [The Kingdom’s] progress through history is not a transition from nonkingdom to kingdom; rather,” says Capon, “it is a progress from kingdom-in-a-mystery to kingdom-made-manifest” (Capon, emphasis mine). 

And when Jesus “talks about heaven in terms of farmers and fields and women baking bread and merchants buying and selling things and fisherman sorting fish, [Jesus means] to be telling us that the kingdom of heaven has to do with these things, that our treasure [isn’t] buried in some exotic far off place that requires a special map – but that "X" marks the spot right here, right now, in all the ordinary people and places and activities in our lives” (Barbara Brown Taylor, Synthesis Today, 7/27/2017).

If that’s the case – that God’s reign has always been a part of this creation – waiting with “eager longing for the revealing of the children of God” (Romans 8:19) – as Paul writes in last week’s passage from Romans – then our calling is to be focused on the challenge to respond to the reality of the reign of God already in the world, and seeking ways in which to help the world live into that promise.

Evangelist and teacher Brian McLaren speaks to a vision for the church that embraces the mystery of the Kingdom and its pervasive presence in the world.  “What new, unimagined capacity could be stirred up in the church,” he asks, “if we rediscover and re-prioritize our outward mission to be the hands and feet and eyes and ears, the presence of Jesus Christ to a world in desperate need?  What would happen if we turned that outward mission into the good news of hope?”

Indeed, “the work [of the church] is about more than just reaching out. ‘And if [the people around the world who are wrestling with how the church can be meaningful in their lives] do come into our churches, we ought to ask ourselves, what Gospel will they hear?  Will it be the gospel of evacuation voiced by so many evangelicals – focused solely on getting to heaven after death’” – focused solely on the love of God being made know in some distant future time and place?  “’Or will [they hear] the gospel Jesus proclaimed, the Gospel of the Kingdom of God [upon us and around us even in the most ordinary of people and things – in the most day-to-day realities of life – a] message that brings reconciliation, hope, of transformation and engagement [now, in this part of eternity]?’” (Episcopal News Service, quoting and referring to McLaren, paraphrased)

McLaren tells us that people who are seeking something in the church want to see “how we treat marginalized people” and how “Christians love one another [even – or perhaps especially –] when [we] disagree” (ibid).  That seems to be a tall order for all too many people in the church and in the world today!  In other words, we don’t just invite people to come to St. Paul’s, or any other faith community just to fill a pew – we invite folks into a relationship – into a relationship not only with us, but with the rest of the world around us, and with the living Christ.

Now we could all trot out long laundry lists of things the church can say and do that will make clear God’s message of “reconciliation, hope, transformation, and engagement.”  We can all trot out lists of what the church can say and do that shows we are willing to treat every human being as someone created in God’s own image. 

In the end it’s as simple as whatever moves us to “strive for justice and peace among all people, and [to] respect the dignity of every human being” – which should sound familiar, being a part of our Baptismal Covenant (BCP, p 305).  It’s as simple, and as complex, as choosing to love our neighbor as ourselves – recognizing that there is no one in this world who is not our neighbor in terms of the gospel imperative.

And at the same time, most of us know in our heart when our thoughts and actions leave little room for reconciliation or hope – when our thoughts and actions leave little room for engagement and transformation.  We know when the actions of society or the church engender marginalization and create outcasts, rather than encourage hope, and work for justice – work for mercy and peace – the very hallmarks of the Gospel of Jesus Christ.  Most of us know when we need to seek forgiveness from one another, when we need to seek forgiveness from the sojourner – the stranger – among us, and seek forgiveness from God.

It is good news – marvelously good news – that the life-changing wonder of the Kingdom of God, although as hidden as a tiny mustard seed buried in the soil, is also as plain to see as the glasses perched on the top of our heads.  All we have to do – and this is easier said than done – all we have to do is open ourselves to the mystery that is the reign of God. 

It is good news – marvelously good news – that although the earth-shaking, life-shaping wonder of the Kingdom of God is as hidden as the yeast in a lump of dough, that kindom is also as obvious as the set of lost keys dangling from our hands.  Either way – ancient parable or modern – the Kingdom of God is just as real.  Is it a reality we’re willing to live?
 

Sunday, July 23, 2017

It Begins with the Seed


Proper 11A
Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43 St. Paul’s, Smithfield, NC 7/23/2017 Jim Melnyk: 
“It Begins with the Seed”

As most of you know, Lorraine and I spent three weeks this past June at The School of Theology in Sewanee, TN, working toward our Doctors of Ministry degrees.  One of my classes was titled, People of the Land.  We explored issues of agricultural and environmental sustainability and ethics as pertained in scripture as well as in contemporary writings.  Our class spent two sessions at the University Farm on campus – one session as an orientation, and the second to actually work the farm.  I ended up working with several others weeding a plot of land planted with seeds that had been stored away in local rock shelters as far back as 8 thousand years ago.

Creeping along on our hands and knees we worked our way down the neatly arranged rows of plants. 

I had never come across either of the two varieties of lambsquarter that had been planted, nor have I had much experience with the three varieties of amaranth before – except, perhaps, the one commonly known as pigweed.  Most everyone today would call all of them weeds, and would want them out of their gardens.  Yet there is evidence of similar varieties of plants going back 12 thousand years in the eastern woodlands of North America, and they were cultivated for food as early as 3-5 thousand years ago.  The leaves of all five varieties can be eaten like any other greens we might find in the grocery store, and the seeds from the plants, much like quinoa, can be ground into flour or boiled like a porridge. 

So, what’s that all have to do with the gospel for today?  Ah, the proof, we might say, is in the porridge. 

While weeding away, Dr. Becky Wright remarked how most people work hard at pulling plants such as the amaranth and lambsquarter out of their gardens, seeing them as useless and annoying weeds. 

Interestingly enough, while working we would come upon other plants that had found their own way into this part of the garden – things like tomato plants – and we were pulling them up along with all the other weeds that threatened the preferred crops.  Lord knows it pained us to pull healthy tomato plants from the ground – though some were saved for transplanting.  It seemed comical to leave in the ground plants we have always thought of as weeds, and it felt a bit sacred to touch – and to taste the leaves of plants raised from 8 thousand year old seeds – “weeds” that once again might become a regional, sustainable food source.

What all this tells me – what I hope it tells all of us – is that sometimes it’s more than a little difficult to tell the weeds from the plants – or in the gospel’s case, the weeds from the wheat.  Sometimes we have to rely on the judgment of those who know more about crops than we do – both in the real world of crop management, as well as in the real world of theological metaphor.

In today’s parable it all begins with the seeds, and like last week, we do well to not get caught up in the explanation in the second half of our reading for the morning.  Parables by definition are meant to be open-ended – be multi-vocal – have multiple meanings.  Like last week’s parable about the sower, the attached explanation tries to turn Jesus’ parable into an allegory with one set meaning, and it’s most likely a later addition meant to explain why everyone isn’t jumping on board with Jesus, and why some early Jesus followers are facing persecutions. 

In the story a landowner’s enemy sows darnel seeds throughout the farmer’s wheat field.  Darnel is a terrible weed that mimics wheat in its early growth, and it wraps its roots around the wheat’s roots system, making it impossible to pull out without taking the wheat along with it.  For a wealthy landowner such an act would mean a troublesome loss of profit from that field.  For a poor landowner it could mean starvation for his family.  Either way, it’s a terrible thing when humans use food as a weapon.

Jesus’ parable quickly moves from a story about farming to a metaphor about how we live with one another in this world.  How the field got the way it did isn’t as important as how the landowner decides to deal with the problem.  Obviously there’s a bit of commentary about how cruelly we can act toward one another – we wonder, “Why in the world would someone be so insidious?”  But more to the point, it’s a parable about not being too swift to judge – and finally, about trusting God’s judgment in the end. 

As my current homiletics professor has written, “Heaven, it seems, can wait.  We cannot.  We worry about how the field looks or believe the weeds will overwhelm the wheat every time” and we want to rush to judgment.  But in reality, it’s not our job to reap either the wheat or the weeds – especially the weeds, because theological weeding is such a powerful temptation.  “Of course this doesn’t mean we make no distinction between faithful and sinful behavior, stop teaching our children right from wrong,” or stop holding one another accountable when we cause others pain.  “It means that the eternal difference it makes is not our decision, and we can stop acting as if it does” (Bill Brosend, Conversations with Scripture: The Parables). 

Author Megan McKenna tells a story that also starts with the seeds rather than the plants: “There was a woman who wanted peace in the world and peace in her heart and all sorts of good things, but she was frustrated. The world seemed to be falling apart.  Sound familiar?

One day she decides to go shopping. (Isn’t that how Americans deal with stress?  We go shopping?) She walks into a store and is surprised to see Jesus behind the counter. Finally she gets up her nerve and asks, ‘Excuse me, are you Jesus?’

‘I am.’

‘Do you work here?’

‘No,’ Jesus says, ‘I own the store.’

‘Oh, what do you sell in here?’

‘Well, just about anything!’

‘Anything?’

‘Yes, anything you want. What do you want?’

She says, ‘I don’t know.’

‘Well,’ Jesus replies, ‘feel free, walk up and down the aisles, make a list, see what it is you want, and then come back and we’ll see what we can do for you.’

She does just that, walking up and down the aisles. There is peace on earth, no more war, no hunger or poverty, peace in families, no more drugs, clean air, and careful use of resources. By the time she gets back to the counter, she has a long list. Jesus takes the list, skims through it, looks up at her, and smiles. ‘No problem.’ And then he bends down behind the counter and picks out all sorts of things, stands up, and lays out some packets on the counter.

She asks, ‘What are these?’

Jesus replies, ‘Seed packets. This is a catalog store.’

She says, ‘You mean I don’t get the finished product?’

‘No, this is a place of dreams. You come and see what it looks like. I give you the seeds. You plant them. You go home and nurture them and help them grow, and someone else reaps the benefit.’

 ‘Oh,’ she says. And she turns and leaves the store without buying anything” (Isabel Anders, Synthesis 5/6/2012).

The “wonderfully good news” from today’ gospel lesson is that “as much as [we] might at times like to be the one who separates the weeds and the wheat, the sheep and the goats, the righteous and the sinner, it’s not in [our] job description” (Brosend).  In the kingdom of heaven, it’s not our job to judge. 

But as we learned from last week’s parable, it is, however, our job to sow the seeds of the gospel with joyful abandon – haphazardly, graciously, and with great abundance – talking about, and living out in our communities, the teachings and great love of Jesus.  We dream the gospel dream of God, and we plant the seeds.  We water the seeds faithfully, and leave the growing to God.  And sometimes – maybe a lot of times – there will be weeds – and we need to be careful and wise about how quick we are to start pulling away at them.

As McKenna’s story so clearly reminds us, God will not coerce us into buying or sowing the seeds, any more than God stops us from judging one another on our worst days.  And God doesn’t expect us to be eternal weeders.  God in Christ plants the seed in our hearts and then calls us to plant the seed wherever and whenever we can.  It’s our job to proclaim the grace and love of God, and to trust God to help that seed flourish in people’s lives.