Matthew 13:44-50
[Jesus said,] “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.”
The kingdom of heaven is like a Pastor who had two dogs, one was old and graying – not the sharpest knife in the drawer – but a very good dog. Potty-trained. Free to run and roam, inside or out, wherever she pleased. The “queen of the castle,” to use the language of parables … until the puppy showed up.
It happened in the early days of a global pandemic, when mutts … mixed-breeds … lower caste hounds were hard to come by, honestly, because many in the kingdom decided that pandemics and quarantine made for a good time to rescue a new puppy from the pound. Anyway, while the new puppy looked as though she could be the offspring of the older, aging queen, the queen had no love for the newer, younger, cuter, cuddlier, apparent “replacement” version of herself. There was – and continues to be – a fair amount of – too much, really – weeping and gnashing of teeth.
All of this is to say, if you didn’t know – or haven’t figured it out, yet: the Havels got a new puppy in June. Her name is Rosie. Her predecessor and big sister is Stella. Rosie likes Stella infinitely more than Stella likes Rosie. You can tell that, again, by all of the weeping and gnashing of teeth.
But there are moments of grace, every once in a while, between the two. Stella has always had the power to remove Rosie’s head, with those gnashing teeth, should she so choose. Yet, even when the Rosie was small enough to sneak between her legs and steal her food – right from under her nose or straight out of her mouth or bowl or whatever – Stella would just back up and watch, and wait for a human to come and save the day.
And, Stella watches Rosie ravenously, shamelessly, ungratefully eat three meals a day – because that’s what a puppy does – while Stella only gets two meals a day; once in the morning and once in the evening. (Stella’s on a diet.) And Rosie gets to go on longer walks, too; and on field trips with Dad to the church office; she’s allowed on more couches and chairs and beds than Stella was ever allowed to enjoy; and Rosie has all the toys, too – bones and stuffed animals and rubber chewies, too, just like Stella used to play with back in the day. And Rosie does not share.
Rosie always beats Stella upstairs or downstairs or to wherever the action is – sometimes knocking the old-girl’s legs right out from under her on the way. And, truth be told, Rosie probably gets more love, cuddles, and playtime, too – if anyone were keeping score. And Stella watches it all from a distance, in her new favorite hiding place, in the shadows of the big chair in our living room most of the time.
So, truth be told, the kingdom of heaven is like a Pastor who had two dogs, not because of anything the Pastor and his family say or do in all of this. But all because of how that big, old, grumpy, geriatric hound, Stella, lives and moves and breathes and loves us all in spite of it all.
See, Stella doesn’t need leashes and fences and electric shock collars like she used to – or like Rosie certainly does. Stella stays close by, she knows who will care for her, and Stella follows the rules because she’s learned that life is better – and best, really – when she does what her Master asks of her. There’s a lesson about faith and obedience for all of us, there, I think.
And couldn’t we use less weeping and gnashing of teeth in our world these days? – in our politics, in our churches, in our schools, kitchens, on social media – and if that means taking a break in the shadows of your favorite hiding place, then take a lesson from Stella.
We could all stand to be more generous with our food and our toys and our resources, too – and if that means giving it up and giving it away so that someone who needs it more might have a chance, then there’s a lesson from Stella about living in God’s kingdom, there, too.
And forgiveness. There’s always room for more of that. Fewer grudges and far more grace, I mean. If Stella’s keeping score, you wouldn’t know it. She comes running more often than she used to. She sits back and waits her turn. She always receives and gives the love, even if she’s second in line for it nowadays. There’s a lesson about kingdom-living if I ever heard one.
All of this is so much of what’s behind this Pet Blessing thing, really, if you ask me. Yes, it’s about celebrating God’s care in and for creation. And yes, it’s a fun way to introduce our furry and feathered family members to our flesh-covered, two-legged human friends at church.
But it’s also a great way to see, and to remind ourselves, and to understand the nature of God’s grace through the animals who love us so well – who let us love them, in return – and who show us how to be, and be grateful for lives lived in the kingdom of God’s grace, in and for the sake of the world.
Amen
