Sermon for 3rd Sunday after Pentecost, 14 July 2015: Parable of the Mysterious Growth of the Kingdom
Sermon for the 3rd
Sunday after Pentecost: 14 June 2015
The Rev. Carrie
Ballenger Smith
Grace and peace to you
from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.
Some days,
it feels like nothing will ever change. I read the other day that 82 percent of
Israelis fully expect another war with Gaza in the coming months. Same
suffering, different summer. Same wall, same illegal occupation, same dialogues
happening with the same people, with no different outcome. Friends in the
States, especially African-American friends, have lamented how tired they are
of the same racist story coming out of a new city every day. Same human
brokenness and sin, different context. This unrelenting status quo of human suffering
means Jesus’ parable about the mysterious growth of the kingdom—and the
sleeping farmer—is especially meaningful for us today.
Jesus said,
“The kingdom of God is as if someone would scatter seed on the ground, and
would sleep and rise night and day, and the seed would sprout and grow, he does
not know how.” The parables of Jesus use familiar images to reveal unfamiliar
and challenging ideas. In this case, the challenging idea is that the growth of
the kingdom happens only by God’s power, and in fact is happening right now. Something is happening, something is germinating, soon the change will come, although all we see now is a
pile of dirt. This is a message of hope, an encouragement to disciples who
wonder why, if the Messiah has already come, we don’t see more evidence of the
promised kingdom of love, peace, justice, and abundance for all.
There is a
history in the church, however, of interpreting this parable as a license to just
“let go and let God” when faced with the injustices of our broken world. There
is unfortunately a tradition of reading these words of Jesus as a call to
quietism and calm, a bucket of water to drown the flames of passion and to cool
the agitators for justice, revolution and change. The farmer in this parable,
after all, is just having a good nap while waiting for the kingdom! The growth not
only happens by God’s power alone—the farmer seems completely irrelevant to the
story! Therefore, “Don’t worry, God’s got this, it’ll all make sense when we
get to heaven” has been the message of many a preacher.
This is a convenient
interpretation, especially for those whose lives and privilege will be
disrupted by the coming of God’s kingdom. It allows us a theological excuse for
doing nothing right now, and biblical justification for maintaining the status
quo. God will take care of it, in God’s time.
One of the
most memorable challenges to this quietist interpretation came from the Rev. Dr.
Martin Luther King, Jr. In his “Letter from a Birmingham Jail” he quoted a message
he had received from a “white brother in Texas”, which said:
"All Christians know that the colored people will
receive equal rights eventually, but
it is possible that you are in too great a religious hurry. It has taken
Christianity almost two thousand years to accomplish what it has. The teachings
of Christ take time to come to earth."
To which Dr. King famously responded:
“Human progress never rolls in on wheels of inevitability; it
comes through the tireless efforts of men willing to be co-workers with God,
and without this hard work, time itself becomes an ally of the forces of social
stagnation. We must use time creatively, in the knowledge that the time is always ripe to do right.”
The time is always ripe to do what is right. And yet Jesus
says: “The kingdom of
God is as if someone would scatter seed on the ground, and would sleep and rise
night and day, and the seed would sprout and grow, he does not know how.”
The growth
of the kingdom happens only by God’s power, and the mature harvest comes only at
a time designated by God. But injustices surround us, and the time is clearly now to speak up for our brothers and
sisters. So are we to be sleeping farmers, or are we to be the “co-workers with
God” Dr. King envisions?
Tractor blessing for Rogation Sunday Capron Lutheran Church, Capron, Illinois Photo by Carrie Smith |
Not surprisingly, it was my time as a country pastor which
gave me a new perspective on this parable. I knew nothing at all about corn or
cattle or tractors or the seasons of a farmer’s life when I was called to be
pastor in a tiny church in rural Illinois. I did arrive with stereotypes and
assumptions about what farming was like. One of those assumptions, soon
shattered, was the idea that farmers sit idle and mostly “hang out” during the
growing season, once the seeds have been put into the ground. This is a lot like
saying the pastor only works on Sunday mornings! (This is not true, in case you were wondering!)
The planting and harvest seasons on the farm are of course
the busiest, but there is plenty of work to be done while the invisible growth is happening. Watering.
Weeding. Tending to the animals. Watching the weather. Caring for the
machinery. Caring for relationships, so there will be friendly neighbors
willing to help when harvest time comes around.
In the end, of course, whether or not the crop is a good one
is in God’s control, and the exact time of the harvest can only be guessed. But
the growing season isn’t naptime! The time between the sowing of the seeds and
the harvest isn’t lost time, it’s life! It’s the life to which we have been
called as Christians. Sowing the seeds was just the beginning. Now is the hard
part. Now is the time for loving our neighbors, building relationships,
preaching the Gospel, and praying for those in need. Now is the time for
challenging systems, advocating for change, and standing with the oppressed.
Now is the time for sleeping, and rising, and trusting in God for the harvest—and
doing it all again tomorrow.
It’s true
that some days it feels like nothing will ever change, and the harvest will
never come. Some days, we look at the empty field, the wall surrounding
Bethlehem, the rockets coming out of Gaza, the police holding down 14 year old
girls, and the children killed by ISIS, and we wonder if the seeds are really
growing. We wonder if the kingdom of God is really on its way. Some days, we
may be tempted to despair and passivity. Other days, we may consider
possibilities promising a faster path to the harvest—like the invitation to extremism
or violence.
But Jesus
says, “The kingdom of God is as if someone would scatter seed on the ground,
and would sleep and rise night and day, and the seed would sprout and grow, he
does not know how…But when the grain is ripe, at once he goes in with his
sickle, because the harvest has come.” Hear the Good News: The kingdom is
coming! The harvest is near! In the meantime, our sleeping and rising, our laughing
and loving, our praying and hoping, working and resting, our trusting in God in
spite of the evidence, is not being idle. It is not being passive. It is not bowing
to the voices urging us “Don’t fan the flame” or “just wait, God’s got it.” This
is what it means to be a farmer. This is what it means to be a co-worker with
God.
This is
resistance.
Just as farmers
resist the call to despair when the weather report is bad, and trust in the
invisible growth happening beneath the soil, Christian discipleship and trust
in God is a form of resistance. We resist the temptation to settle for faster-growing crops, for
something lesser than the kingdom but still better than what we have. A kinder,
gentler occupation, for example. A nicer, less offensive racism. An icy
tolerance of each other instead of true peace with justice.
We resist, because Jesus has taught us that God’s kingdom is
worth the wait. God’s kingdom is greater than we can ever imagine. God's peace is everlasting. God's mercy is boundless. God's love is for all people. God’s
kingdom is like the “mustard seed, which, when sown upon the ground, is the
smallest of all the seeds on earth; yet when it is sown it grows up and becomes
the greatest of all shrubs, and puts forth large branches, so that the birds of
the air can make nests in its shade.”
Thanks be to God, that kingdom has already come near in
Jesus, our brother. We have already known the beauty of the kingdom through the
life, death, and resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ.
Dear sisters and brothers, we may not be able to see it, but things
are changing. Growth is happening. After
all, we can’t see what happens at communion, and yet we experience Christ’s
real presence in the bread and the wine.
We can’t see what is happening in the hearts of others, and
yet we have seen broken lives restored to wholeness, and friendships formed
from sworn enemies.
We can’t see
how the occupation will end, how two peoples and three religions will
ultimately live together in this place, what we can do about ISIS, or how poverty
and racism and will be eradicated once and for all.
But because
of the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, we know that our faithful God
will not fail to bring the harvest. God will not fail to bring justice and peace.
God will not fail to bring salvation. Until then we will sleep and rise and
love and live and resist and build relationships and prepare, for the time is
at hand. The harvest is almost ready. The kingdom has come near. And it is
worth the wait. Amen.
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