Tuesday 29 July 2014

27 July 2014 The Seventh Sunday After Pentecost - Proper 12A


Proper 12A                                                                                      The Seventh Sunday after Pentecost
Romans 8.26-39
Matthew 13.31-33, 44-52

Every hour of every Sunday on the planet, these words are said and heard countless millions of times.  Millions pray these words each week in worship and many pray these words every day – in the Episcopal and Roman Catholic Churches alone these words are prayed at least 22,000 times a day just in the United States.
Do you know them?
Thy Kingdom Come…
Of course you do.  These words come from the best known prayer in the Christian world…the Lord’s Prayer or the Our Father.  I learned this prayer from my parents as soon as I was old enough to talk and many of you probably learned it the same way.  But . . . When you pray, Thy Kingdom come, what exactly do you mean by Kingdom?  What is it that you want to come?
It would seem a pretty straight forward question with an easy answer, but is it?
Today’s gospel can go a long way toward understanding what God’s Kingdom is all about.  In order to get a full sense of what Jesus taught, however, we need to understand the context of today’s reading and how it fits in with the whole of Matthew’s 13th chapter.
In this chapter, Jesus tells seven parables concerning the Kingdom of Heaven.  Six times Jesus uses the words, the kingdom of heaven is like…  So, it’s pretty clear that this entire chapter is intended to instruct the crowds and Jesus’ closest followers about what God’s Kingdom is like.  We have five of the seven parables in today’s reading:
·         The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed…
·         The kingdom of heaven is like yeast…
·         The kingdom of heaven is like treasure…
·         The kingdom of heaven is like a merchant…
·         The kingdom of heaven is like a net…
There’s a very interesting question that Jesus asks after telling all of these parables.  See, the disciples asked Jesus to explain the parable of the wheat and the weeds (last week’s Gospel reading), He does, then offers three more parables and asks the disciples, Have you understood all this? To which the disciples respond simply, Yes.  In light of the events that were still to come in the ministry and life of Jesus and the disciples, you have to wonder if they really understood.
Understanding the Kingdom is no little thing.  We know that in the first century the Jewish understanding of the coming Messiah was that he would come with a sword and armies to throw off the yoke of Roman rule.  They surely didn’t understand Messiah in the way that Jesus was being the Messiah.  When He came as a servant instead of a warrior and was eventually crucified rather than driving the Romans out – he didn’t look like the Messiah they had been expecting.  So, there also couldn’t have been a very good understanding of the Kingdom of Heaven.  The warrior Messiah was meant to be God’s agent in bringing about the Kingdom, but if they didn’t understand the idea of Messiah, they couldn’t possibly have understood the meaning of God’s Kingdom either.  We have just as difficult a time understanding what we mean when we pray, Thy Kingdom come.
The key to understanding these parables, I believe, is understanding that the ‘like’ in the phrase the Kingdom of Heaven is like is not about the subject – mustard seed, treasure, merchant – it’s about the action of the story, what happens with these objects.
This was a lesson that was a long time coming for me.  Many of you may already know that I grew up in a small United Methodist Church in central Florida; but my family stopped going to church when I was about 9 or 10.  Afterwards the experience of church, and of faith, clung to me – but I didn’t know what to do with it.  So, I became a ‘seeker,’ searching for God and faith in every place I could imagine.  I studied various churches and religions, I even attended a synagogue for some months.  All of this time, though, I kept expecting some lightning-bolt experience; I expected faith to be something that was bestowed upon me from on high – I was looking for some experience that would tell me that I had found the right place and that would prove to me that I had faith.  Then, in one of those introspective moments – when I had let go of the worry and was simply wondering about faith, religion, and God – it occurred to me that faith isn’t a noun, it’s not a thing - it’s a verb!  Faith is a complicated idea.  It’s something that we do, we choose to live each and every day as faithful followers of Christ.
Just like faith, the Kingdom of Heaven cannot be contained in one simple thought…the Kingdom of Heaven is difficult to get our minds around because it is all-encompassing.  The Kingdom of Heaven changes everything about our world, our values, and our priorities.  That’s why the Gospel of Matthew gives us so many parables about the kingdom in a row – they don’t all mean the same thing, and they’re not all clear descriptions.  They’re trying to point us in the right direction, to the right way of thinking about the Kingdom.
The parables in this chapter that really stand out to me are the central two in our list – the Parable of the Hidden Treasure and the Parable of the Pearl.  These two parables are grouped together in the Gospel, I believe, because they are similar and because putting these parables together helps us understand their meaning.  In the first, someone finds a treasure in a field and then hides it away again.  Strange, but what comes next tells us why.  Then, in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field.  You can almost picture this character from an old silent film, rejoicing in his good fortune while slinking away rubbing his hands together.  So, the field is not his.  Maybe our character is a laborer hired by the owner to plow the field in preparation for sowing?  Or maybe he’s just poking around in someone else’s field.  How common would buried treasure have been in ancient Palestine?  More common than we would think.
Let’s say you inherited a tidy sum back in the first century A.D.  Where would you put it?  In a farming society of tribes and villages where everyone knew everyone else’s business, everyone knows that you’re wealthier than you were yesterday, and not everyone would necessarily be happy about it.  There is no bank to go to unless you happened to live in a major city, no mattress to stuff (coins would be awfully lumpy anyway!), and no place to hide it in your simple one- or two-room house.  You could dig up a spot in your dirt floor and hide it there, but how hard would that be for someone else to find while you are out working in the fields?  So you hide it in your field one day when the neighbors think you’re roughing up the ground before the spring planting.  Before too long the plants in the field grow and bloom, and your carefully chosen hiding spot looks just like every other spot in the field.
Of course it may also look like every other spot in the field to you too, which is one explanation for how someone might have left a treasure behind in the first place.  Or it could have been that the Romans swept through one day and you had to run away before having time to dig up your treasure.  Maybe you saved it for a rainy day that never came, or maybe you got mad at your kids and decided not to tell them where it was hidden. If they would just get off their lazy behinds and get to work it would be their plow that bumped into that box of silver one day.[1]
This parable’s companion is the Parable of the Pearl; similar to the Parable of the Treasure, but different in interesting and important ways.  The main character is called a merchant, or a trader.  While merchants make only rare (and almost never positive) appearances in the New Testament, they’re mentioned often enough to be familiar characters to Jesus’ hearers and Matthew’s readers.  So the Kingdom is being compared to a pearl trader, who presumably makes a living selling pearls for more than he paid for them, right?
Pearls were highly valued in the ancient world.  The ancient historian Pliny described pearls as the most precious of all objects, while Job describes wisdom as so valuable as to be above the price of pearls.[2]  A pearl trader would have sounded exotic and exciting, but not entirely foreign.  The storytelling is pretty straightforward; only 25 words in the Greek.  In the course of his usual pearl trading, a merchant finds a special pearl, and, like the person who found the treasure buried in the field, went and sold all that he had and bought it.  There’s no mention of joy in this story; maybe that’s because this transaction is just a matter of the merchant’s daily business.
Here’s the main question though:  What did the merchant do with the pearl once he bought it at the cost of everything he owned?  Put it on a shelf?  Definitely not, because the shelf would have sold with everything else he owned!  The merchant couldn’t have eaten the pearl, it wouldn’t have kept him warm at night and, unless he sold tickets to passers-by to come and look at this pearl of great price[3], he would have starved to death sooner or later, just as the one who found the treasure would have if he hadn’t sold it.
Clearly the merchant would have sold the pearl, that’s the point of buying it in the first place.  That’s right – the merchant sold the beautiful pearl for which he sold everything he owned.  It’s what merchants do, and likely made a fortune in the process.
The point, though, is that we’re talking about actions, not objects.  The Kingdom of Heaven is not something we possess, like a treasure or a pearl, however valuable those might be.  The Kingdom is much better understood as something we do, or a way we live.  Both finders in these stories take decisive action when encountering something valuable.  Both recognize, however, that the real value lies in giving it away.
The real truth is, that we have to learn to let go of being in control.  The Kingdom of Heaven can never be realized if we never realize that we aren’t in control.
In fact, if you think about the Lord’s Prayer, right after the statement about the Kingdom, Thy Kingdom come, the next clause is, Thy will be done
Thy will be done, not my will.  Thy will be done, this is the most difficult prayer in the Christian heritage.  Thy will be done.  Because what I really want is for my will to be done.  I’m really good at telling God what to do:  Oh Lord, heal this person; Oh Lord, bless these young people; Dear Lord don’t let that State Trooper see how fast I’m driving!  We pray for these kinds of things all the time, but they won’t institute the Kingdom of Heaven.  We have to let go of control over all of the things that God is supposed to be in control of.  Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that our faith shouldn’t be active – remember I said that faith is a verb not a noun.  What I’m saying is that in praying Thy will be done we should learn to let go of what the outcome will be.  Let go of the fear of talking to someone about your faith; let go of the fear of getting to know someone who is completely different from you; let go of the thoughts that you aren’t good enough, or holy enough, or faithful enough – those are weed thoughts as Dean Kate told us last week.
In seminary, one of the things that Episcopal seminarians are require to do is called C.P.E. – Clinical Pastoral Education.  The program has students working as chaplains, mostly in hospitals and hospices, for a summer, usually between the first and second years. I was called to the bedside of many dying patients during my CPE experience and one common thing that I saw, both there and in my own family, is the sight of some poor man or woman – maybe a beloved grandparent – lingering for days on the brink of death.  It never failed, though (and I know some of you have personal knowledge of this phenomenon) that when some family member leaned down and said, “It’s OK, were all here, you can go now,” a peaceful death came soon afterward.
Letting go . . . truly praying Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done, is like saying to God, “It’s OK.”  It’s saying to God “I know that you know what’s best for me and for the world.” 
As we pray these words in a few minutes, listen to God and look for those places of fear and the weed feelings of being unworthy or not good enough.  Recognize those thoughts for what they are and then let go and let God guide you. It seems like a simple enough thing, but it’s hard and it takes practice.  Be gentle with yourself, when fear and weeds win out, let go; then, next time you have the opportunity to reach out and help someone or tell someone about your faith, let go of control over what the outcome should be and let the Holy Spirit be in control of that.
Even in the roughest places of our lives our prayer should always be Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done.



[1] Much of the description of these parables is from: William F. Brosend, Conversations with Scripture: The Parables, Anglican Association of Biblical Scholars Study Series (Harrisburg, PA: Morehouse Pub., 2006), 36-39.
[2] Job 28:18.
[3] Matt. 13.46 AV

No comments:

Post a Comment