Matthew 13:31-33, 44-52

[Jesus] put before them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed that someone took and sowed in his field; it is the smallest of all the seeds, but when it has grown it is the greatest of shrubs and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and make nests in its branches.”

He told them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like yeast that a woman took and mixed in with three measures of flour until all of it was leavened.”

“The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which someone found and hid; then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field.”

“Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls; on finding one pearl of great value, he went and sold all that he had and bought it.”

“Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a net that was thrown into the sea and caught fish of every kind; when it was full, they drew it ashore, sat down, and put the good into baskets but threw out the bad. So it will be at the end of the age. The angels will come out and separate the evil from the righteous and throw them into the furnace of fire, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.”

“Have you understood all this?” They answered, “Yes.” And he said to them, “Therefore every scribe who has been trained for the kingdom of heaven is like the master of a household who brings out of his treasure what is new and what is old.”

I was grateful for today’s Gospel in a different kind of way this week. With everything going on in the world, my last few sermons have been pretty heavy, it seemed. And this one could be, too, of course. The parables can be as challenging and as heavy and as hard as anything, but I don’t have it in me to go there again today. I’m not sure what was going on in the news the day Jesus rattled off these parables about the Kingdom of Heaven – it seems impossible they were having a year like we’ve had so far in 2020, but who knows? Whatever the case, I found myself just wanting to muse about Jesus’ penchant for painting a picture of the Kingdom of Heaven – those mustard seeds, that yeast and flour, the treasure in a field, the merchant, the fine pearl and the fishing net, too.

I – and countless other preachers and theologians – have dissected and theologized and philosophized and pontificated about the deep meaning behind each of these parables. Volumes have been written about the meaning of the mustard seed. Tomes have been written about the treasure in the field. Pages and pages and paragraph after paragraph have been penned about fine pearls, and all the rest.

So usually, when this Gospel collection of Jesus’ parables shows up, I pick one and run with it, adding my two cents to what so many, smarter more faithful preachers than me, have already said about any one of these images of the Kingdom.

So, this time around, I decided to wonder about all of them together. And I thought it seems possible that maybe Jesus is more like brainstorming with himself or spit-balling at a board meeting more than he is preaching to or teaching the disciples anything he’s absolutely certain about with these parables. (This whole section of parables in Matthew’s Gospel begins with Jesus taking a seat by the sea, then getting into a boat when the crowds surround him. He may not have been out there prepared to preach and teach at all that day when he said these things.)

So I’m just wondering, what if this litany of parables is more like Jesus musing outloud and trying to find the words himself to describe the Kingdom of Heaven to his friends and followers in some way that makes sense. After all, all of those parables, full of their metaphors and analogies and illustrations and teaching moments don’t, frankly – in their details – have a whole lot in common. But, taken together, I realized, their message and meaning seem to say two pretty simple, but profound, holy, and inspiring Truths.

First … the kingdom of heaven is all around us, all of the time, in simple, surprising, everyday things. (In seeds and fields, in treasure and pearls, in flour and fishing nets, and all the rest.)

And second … you know it when you see it.

So, first things first … the kingdom of heaven is all around us, all of the time. And I’m not talking about “samples” of the kingdom. Not “images” of the kingdom. Not “illustrations” or “metaphors” or “analogies” or mere “approximations” of the kingdom. But I believe the Good News of Jesus was and is that the Kingdom of Heaven IS. The Kingdom of Heaven is alive and well and around us, now, right where we sit or stand, and out there in the world, too.

And, again, we know it when we see it. We feel it when it finds us. We are moved by the Kingdom when we sense that we’re moving within the Kingdom.

So, I wonder … have you seen it? Have you experienced it lately? Have you witnessed your life and faith coming together in ways that might have felt a little bit like heaven on earth? If you were by the sea in Galilee, spit-balling with Jesus about what the Kingdom of Heaven might be like, what would you suggest to keep the conversation going?

I have some ideas, but I’d love to hear yours. (This is the “crowd participation” portion of the sermon that most Lutherans would only do by way of Zoom, so I thought I’d take advantage of it. Because you can share your ideas with me or with everybody using the “Chat” feature at the bottom of your screen. You don’t actually have to talk in church! If you want to be even more shy and anonymous, even, send me a private Chat message and I won’t tell who said what.)

No pressure, though. I’m going share some from my own spit-balling and brainstorming and invite you to sit with them for a moment or so. Some are specific and particular. Some are more universal and common ground we all might share in one way or another. Whatever the case, I hope we can reflect on and relish the Kingdom among us, this morning, so that we might recognize it more often in the magnificent and the mundane of our daily lives going forward.

I think the Kingdom of Heaven is like holy communion in your living room or kitchen, these days.

I think the Kingdom of Heaven is like an acoustic guitar and a cleverly turned lyric, something like John Prine or the Indigo Girls, if I had my pick.

Speaking of a cleverly turned lyric. I read this poem, this week, written by a four-year old with a book deal. (I’m not sure if the Kingdom of Heaven is like a four year-old with a book deal, but this poem is pretty great.)

Coming Home Nadim Shamma-Sourgen (4 years old)

Take our gloves off. Take our shoes off.
Put them where they’re supposed to go.
You take off your brave feeling
Because there’s nothing
to be scared of in the house:
no dark caves, no monsters,
no witches, no bees, no howling sounds
You don’t need your brave anymore.
Wash your hands. Eat lunch. Go get cozy.

I think the Kingdom of Heaven is not needing your “brave” anymore.

I think the Kingdom of Heaven is the smell of puppy breath.

I think the Kingdom of Heaven is like making love and meaning it.

I think the Kingdom of Heaven is being able to offer forgiveness, fully; and to receive it, fully, just the same.

I think the Kingdom of Heaven is the perfect gift – given or received.

I think the Kingdom of Heaven is like baseball’s opening day and the Buckeye Marching Band taking the field on a perfect Fall Saturday afternoon.

I think the Kingdom of Heaven is a well-earned vacation.

The Kingdom of Heaven is justice done … mercy extended … gracious compassion.

I think the Kingdom of Heaven will happen later this morning when the body of Representative John Lewis is marched across the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma, Alabama, one last time, as part of his life’s celebration.

I think the Kingdom of Heaven is when the healing comes … and I think it’s also the ability to muster hope when it doesn’t.

I think the Kingdom of Heaven is saying goodbye and walking out the door for the last time, knowing you’ve said all there is to say.

I think the Kingdom of Heaven is the ability to preach a sermon without words.

The Kingdom of Heaven is like laughter that brings tears and belly aches and more laughter, still.

I think the Kingdom of Heaven is that sound or scent or song or season that pleasantly surprises you with the memory of a moment or a person or a place you haven’t thought about in a while.

Today – and in these days, especially, perhaps, – we are called to see and to be the Kingdom of Heaven for one another and for the sake of the world. And today, Jesus reminds us that we are surrounded by the Kingdom at every turn. God is relentless about showing us the Kingdom in our midst. And I think Jesus means to open our hearts and our minds and our eyes so that we will see it more often and rest assured and be at peace and find joy in its fullness – on earth as it is in heaven.

Amen

P. S. Thankfully, Zoom recorded the “crowd participation” portion of the sermon, since I couldn’t see or say all of the Chat replies in real time. Below is the complete list of responses, from those in both worship services, about the ways and places they’ve seen or experienced the Kingdom of Heaven lately. Thanks for playing along.

Baptisms

The kingdom is in laughter.

The kingdom is in the smile of a child.

Neighbors coming together during the pandemic – in distant ways, outside.

The rising chorus demanding justice for all people.

I see it when I am walking on the open space trail with the Rocky Mountains to the west.

When a grandchild looks at you with adoring eyes and says "I love you Grandma."

In the beauty and abundance of nature around us on our patio this morning.

Knowing that God brought my husband home from the hospital to still be with me.

Watching families being together in the outdoors as I ride my bicycle.

In the blooming of flowers.

From the playfulness of the four paws in our lives.

Neighbors who watch over and are there for me!

The beauty of nature God has given us.

We had a beautiful granddaughter born this week!!!

Neighbors sharing meals.

Watching a brilliant sunset last weekend.

The joy of kids cannonball jumping into a swimming pool.

Love of dogs and cats and their ways to make a bad day better.

We saw seagulls turning pink in the sunset over Lake Erie.

A momma duck and her babies gliding on the pond.

Every time we work with the food pantry.

Lindsey's Thursday night yoga on the labyrinth.

Wonderful conversations with friends and family.

Double rainbow.

Being on a boat on a lake!

Abby caught the ball yesterday getting the batter out and Ginny reinvigorated the team for a win.

Walking on the beach.

Watching the sunset over the ocean.

Feeling safe on a huge roller coaster.

Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23

That same day Jesus went out of the house and sat beside the sea. Such great crowds gathered around him that he got into a boat and sat there, while the whole crowd stood on the beach. And he told them many things in parables, saying: "Listen! A sower went out to sow. And as he sowed, some seeds fell on the path, and the birds came and ate them up. Other seeds fell on rocky ground, where they did not have much soil, and they sprang up quickly, since they had no depth of soil. But when the sun rose, they were scorched; and since they had no root, they withered away. Other seeds fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked them. Other seeds fell on good soil and brought forth grain, some a hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty. Let anyone with ears listen!"

"Hear then the parable of the sower. When anyone hears the word of the kingdom and does not understand it, the evil one comes and snatches away what is sown in the heart; this is what was sown on the path. As for what was sown on rocky ground, this is the one who hears the word and immediately receives it with joy; yet such a person has no root, but endures only for a while, and when trouble or persecution arises on account of the word, that person immediately falls away. As for what was sown among thorns, this is the one who hears the word, but the cares of the world and the lure of wealth choke the word, and it yields nothing. But as for what was sown on good soil, this is the one who hears the word and understands it, who indeed bears fruit and yields, in one case a hundredfold, in another sixty, and in another thirty."

I can’t think of a better place to preach on Jesus’ parable of the sower than in the Grace Garden at Cross of Grace.

This summer my work in the church garden has taken on new significance as it is one of the few places besides my home where I have spent time during quarantine. This has been my vacation spot, my quiet place, my study, my gym, and, on occasion, my social hour. It is a place I can come to and feel like I’m doing good and necessary work growing food to be shared with people who are hungry.

One of the reasons I spend so much time in the garden, other than the obvious fact that gardening requires a lot of time, is that gardening is my favorite metaphor for spiritual life. I guess that’s one thing I have in common with Jesus, who often taught spiritual principles using garden imagery. In addition to using garden-related imagery as teaching illustrations, Jesus also prayed in gardens and was even mistaken for a gardener when he appeared to Mary after his resurrection, which I’ve always thought was an absolutely beautiful way to think about God’s promise of the resurrected life.

In today’s parable, Jesus hones in on soil as one particular aspect of gardening that is a metaphor for discipleship. Jesus tells us that God’s word is like seed sown indiscriminately on the soil of our hearts. Some heart-soil is impenetrable; the seeds sit on the surface and external threats steal the seeds away. Some heart-soil lacks the nutrients necessary for lasting and sustainable growth. Some heart-soil would rather do anything but care for the seed of God’s word. But other heart-soil is rich with nutrients; it pours its energy into allowing the seed of God’s word to take root, grow, and produce fruit for the world to enjoy.

In the Grace Garden, the soil doesn’t get to choose what kind of soil it will be. Although, it should be said, if this area were to be completely untouched for twenty years and allowed to grow without interference, the top inch or two of soil would be some of the richest and most incredible soil you could hope for. That’s because nature (i.e., God’s “good” creation) prevails.

When we started this garden three years ago, I took a soil sample and had it analyzed. It was exactly what you’d expect from soil that was near a construction site within the last decade. It was devoid of most necessary nutrients, couldn’t hold moisture, and was ill-suited to grow anything but weeds. New topsoil, minerals, and compost was added to the existing soil and crops were planted that would affix necessary nutrients back into the soil. Through the past three years the soil quality has steadily improved and now we can count on productive crop growth each summer. The soil was lacking; but some care and attention eventually enhanced its quality.

As we explore the spiritual metaphor, please understand I’m not saying we should obsess over analyzing the quality of our heart-soil or “doing” things in order to make our heart-soil more acceptable to God. Lutheran theology is absolutely clear on the fact that we cannot do anything to earn God’s grace and love. But where we sometimes sell ourselves short is in the realization we absolutely have things to do in response to God’s freely-given grace. There are ways to amend our heart-soil so that the fruits of the spirit can grow and be shared with the world. This is the task of discipleship. The fruit of the spirit is always a freely-given gift of grace, but God doesn’t grow fruit in soil that lacks the necessary spiritual nutrients.

In these past few months of social unrest I’ve taken the spiritual metaphor of the garden to heart. I have felt a divine invitation to assess the quality of my heart-soil and take stock of what’s growing in my spiritual garden.

Are the seeds of God’s word able to penetrate the surface of my heart-soil? Or am I not receptive to the always-surprising and expansive scope of God’s grace?

Are the seeds of God’s word able to draw from a diversity of necessary nutrients in my heart-soil? Have I amended my heart-soil with the ideas and perspectives of others that are necessary heart-soil amendments if I hope to bear spiritual fruit? Or does my heart-soil consist only of my own ideas and preconceived notions?

Are the seeds of God’s word being tended to and nurtured in my heart-soil? Or am I too busy, preoccupied, or lazy to tend to them?

Contemplating the answers to these questions can be painful and embarrassing (trust me on that one); but is an absolutely essential step if you hope to bear the fruit of peace, joy, love, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. There will be no justice and no peace until we allow God’s word to penetrate our heart-soil and cooperate with the Spirit’s power to “let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream” (Amos 5:24).

My hope and prayer for you is that you will find a way into the garden of your heart. Maybe you will find that here in the Grace Garden, as I so often have. Maybe you need nothing more than the pages of scripture or the folded hands of prayer. But wherever you find access to your heart-soil, please be honest, brave, vulnerable with yourself as you take stock of what you have and what you lack. And above all, expect God to produce something beautiful and abundant in your life as you tend to your heart-soil.

Amen.

On Earth As It Is In Heaven

Tending to Your Heart-Soil