The First United Methodist Church of Napa, CA

July 24, 2005

The Tenth Sunday after Pentecost

Scripture Readings:

 

Epistle – Romans 8: 26-31[1]

 

26Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words.  27And God, who searches the heart, knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God.

28We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to [God's] purpose.  29For those whom [God] foreknew [God] also predestined to be conformed to the image of [God's] Son, in order that he might be the firstborn within a large family.  30And those whom [God] predestined [God] also called; and those whom [God] called [God] also justified; and those whom [God] justified [God] also glorified.

31What then are we to say about these things?  If God is for us, who is against us?

 

Gospel – Matthew 13: 31-33, 44-52[2]

 

31[Jesus] put before them another parable:  “The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed that someone took and sowed in his field; 32it 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.”

33He 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.”  ….

44“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.

45“Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls; 46on finding one pearl of great value, he went and sold all that he had and bought it.

47“Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a net that was thrown into the sea and caught fish of every kind; 48when it was full, they drew it ashore, sat down, and put the good into baskets but threw out the bad.  49So it will be at the end of the age.  The angels will come out and separate the evil from the righteous 50and throw them into the furnace of fire, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.

51“Have you understood all this?”  They answered, “Yes.”  52And 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.”

 

 “The Kingdom of Heaven Is in the Midst of Us."

 

          Judging simply from the actions of people that he himself knew, George Bernard Shaw was reputed to have commented that the earth must be some other world's insane asylum.  I don't know that any of us is quite that cynical, but we all know how he must've felt to have said such a thing.  Don't we?  There are times when we're reluctantly inclined to agree with that scathing indictment on the human race.  Just think of the plague of violence that currently infects our world, the insanity of destruction that we inflict upon each other – all, supposedly, in the name of a "greater good." 

          What's more, there seems to be a persistent self-centeredness exhibited by so many people in this day and age – most graphically exemplified (if hilariously so, I think) by those seagulls in the movie-length cartoon, Finding Nemo:  they're constantly crying out, "Mine!  Mine!  Mine!  Mine!"[3]  Many of us (particularly in this country) live like bizarre adolescents riding bumper cars around and around toward a meaningless destination, knocking people out of our way while we go.  "Eat, drink, and be merry…"[4] seems to be the cry of those who prefer to just live in the moment, to "wing it," indulging themselves with unrestrained passion and excitement as if they really believed in the words of that (now gratefully dead!) beer ad that claimed for us, "You only go around once in life, so grab all the gusto you can!"

          There's something more than just sick about that approach to life.  It always brings to my mind Thornton Wilder's recently resurrected play, Our Town, which underscores how terribly foolish and narrow this approach to life really is.[5]  Emily, a main character in the play, dies in her early twenties, but is allowed to return to her native town, Grover's Corner, to relive one day of her life.  And even though she chooses her twelfth birthday, it turns out to be a painfully disappointing experience.  She notices how people with wonderful things to do and exciting opportunities to savor and celebrate, become sidetracked and lost in meaningless activities.  They're missing out on the true joys of life, letting so many truly exhilarating events slip through their fingers!

          Finally, Emily can't take it anymore.  She cries out, "Take me back….But first:  wait!  One more look."  Convinced that things won't ever change, she prepares to leave; but before she does, she poignantly exclaims,

 

"Good-by, Good-by world!  Good-by to clocks ticking …and Mama's sunflowers.  And food and coffee.  And newly ironed dresses and hot baths…and sleeping and waking up.  Oh, earth, you're too wonderful for anyone to realize you."[6]

 

          She looks toward the stage manager and asks abruptly through her tears, "Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it? – every, every, minute?"  The stage manager replies, "No."  Then after a pause, he says, "The saints and poets, maybe – they do some."[7]

          It's been a few years since Thornton Wilder wrote those words, and yet I think that many contemporary novelists and playwrights characterize life in even more pervasively depressing terms.  They tell us that life is "a long day's journey into night,"[8] a languished "waiting for Godot"[9] – who never comes.  Life has no exit.  "The greatest crime is to be born," writes Samuel Beckett.  Camus tells us that life is a plague, a fall,[10] a drudging sameness in which we all, like Sisyphus, are pushing a boulder up a hill, only to have it roll back so that we have to begin the frustrating process all over again.[11]

          That's our fate, yours and mine, according to these playwrights.  If our only view of life truly were the ones of these philosophers of the absurd – if theirs were the only paradigm for human living – then our existence would indeed be "a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."[12]

          I hope that at least part of the reason that we're all here this morning is to say that, at least for us, life is not a journey from one dark place to yet another one, but that life is to be lived in all of its fullness and in celebration of the presence of God.[13]  Life itself is a sacred journey, and we will find our shalom as it comes to converge with the shalom of God.[14]

          In a series of parables, then, Jesus tells us all that the "new birth" that we keep waiting for, in fact, began a long time ago.  Creation itself was meant to be a blessing, not a curse.[15]  This means that even before Jesus (but surely in his life and ministry) the "kingdom of God" was present in the world.  He continues to invite us now, as he did those first disciples, to share in this God-filled life by drawing out a series of questing analogies in the form of parables.

          If you were to listen to random conversations (particularly at shopping malls), much of what people seem to be talking about is what they pay for things:  "You should've tried eBay, man!"[16]  "I got it at Ross!" has become practically the motto of at least one side of our family.  And even though, once in a great while, you might overhear a conversation about values, most of the time it's about costs or prices.  Oscar Wilde's biographer tells that when his surgeon informed him of the exorbitant sum of an operation that he required, Wilde remarked, "Ah well then, I suppose that I shall have to die beyond my means."[17]

          Jesus told stories about one thing:  what really matters in life.  His subject was always the same.  Call it "the kingdom of heaven" or "the kingdom of God," it was always about the overwhelming presence and power of God that Israel was supposed to have rule over them – both then and culminating in an age yet to come.  We hear it translated in Matthew as "the kingdom of heaven" because (being a good Jew) he didn't even want to utter the name of the all-holy God; so he'll say "heaven" in its place – a place where God rules over our rebellious wills.  It was also the way that the Jews of Jesus' day spoke of what you and I might now refer to as "future and universal peace with justice"[18] – a time and a place when and where, finally, "all's right with the world."[19]  It is something that you and I know will only be brought about when all of the world's people want it and agree that it's worth having.  Will there ever be such a time – of "heaven on earth" – or is it just a pipe dream of progressive Christians like me?

          I'd have to say that Jesus was no dreamer – at least not in that sense.  He was a supreme realist.  His parables didn't just illustrate his teaching; they were his teaching, and to make his point he always described the way that people really act.  The guy who discovers a buried treasure doesn't report it to the owner of the field.  He keeps it.  Is that honest?  That's not Jesus' point.  Again, he's talking about what people really do.  The buyer of that extraordinary pearl doesn't engage in a lengthy discussion with the dealer about its worth.  He knows what it's worth!  Supposing that the dealer, however, does not, he begins haggling for the lowest price.  And the third little story of the fisherman has no real ethical implications at all.  Only later, as the church began to "explain" these parables, were the good fish caught in that dragnet assumed to be those who will be justified at "the last day," while the rest will just burn in hell.  All that Jesus was saying, really, was "Anything without scales and fins goes overboard – even the abalone!"[20]  There's no market for shellfish among people who keep the kosher laws of the Bible.  The edible has value.  The inedible does not.  If it's worthless, toss it out!  That's the whole point of a Jewish story, told by a Jewish rabbi, to a Jewish audience who would immediately know what he was talking about.

          Each of these images, though (of mustard seed, yeast, of treasure in a field, a pearl of extraordinary value, even a fish net), all offer and become signs of hope.  The mustard seed grows from a very small beginning to (what's represented on our bulletin cover) fruitful maturity.  A lot of the time we can't see the "fruit" of all of our efforts and hard work; and yet the seeds that we plant in our lives as followers of the Rabbi Jesus will take root, and grow, and bear fruit – often in heaven-on-earth kinds of ways we never would've imagined.  A bit of yeasty goodness multiplies in astounding (and delicious!) ways!  It leads to more of the same until wherever you look is bubbling with goodness like yeast in bread dough.  As far as the treasure and the pearl are concerned – whether we just come across it or we're really looking for it – because they reveal the essence of God, they're priceless.

          There have been times in our own lives (haven't there?) when we've stumbled onto the realization that we are in the midst of the "kingdom of heaven."  It really "doesn't get any better than this."[21]  It's simply and suddenly there, as clear as day.  Yes, at other times we have to look for it, maybe lifting this here or moving things out of the way there, in order to see it.  However we come to it, it's worth every bit of our being.

          The "kingdom of heaven," then, is a reality to be lived into, not just some idea to be kicked around.  We need different perspectives of this one reality at different times in our lives.  At one time I found it in my father's arms, but he's gone.  Who might need my arms now?  All of these images displayed in Matthew's version of the gospel are to help us understand those experiences – and those unique to your own life – as part of one and the same reality.[22]

          The marvelous thing about Jesus' parables is that they all contain moments of surprise (sometimes even outraged shock!), discovery, discernment, and often great joy.  The "kingdom of heaven" – the reign of God – is so much more within reach than anybody ever dreamed.  The destination of all of our journeys, the purpose of all of our quests, is to become the human beings that we were created to be.  It is sad that so many people settle for so much less.

          I think that one of the more dramatically portrayed consequences of such an alternative was illustrated in Graham Greene's novel, The Power and the Glory, the story of an alcoholic priest imprisoned by the revolutionary Mexican government.  He's tried and condemned to be shot.  The night before his execution the priest finds himself thinking back on his life.  Tears begin to stream down his face, not because he's afraid of his imminent death, or because he thinks that he might be eternally condemned for his abuse of life and grace.  He cries because he feels only despair at the fact that soon he'll have to stand before his God empty-handed, with nothing to show for his having lived.  During this examination of conscience, it occurs to him that it wouldn't have been that hard to be a saint – all it would have meant was a little self-restraint, a little more discipline and some courage.  He feels as if he's somebody who's missed joy by seconds at an appointed place.[23]

          I want to leave us with something that the poet Kathleen Norris wrote as she reflected on the meaning of Christian community, gathered as we are here on Sunday morning.  She writes:

 

Not long ago I was asked by a college student how I could stand to go to church, how I could stand the hypocrisy of Christians.  I had one of my rare inspirations, when I know the right thing to say, and I replied, "The only hypocrite I have to worry about on Sunday morning is myself." ….

 

Even when I find church boring, I try to hold this in mind as a possibility:  like all the other fools who have dragged themselves to church on Sunday morning, including the pastor, I am there because I need to be reminded that love can be at the center of all things, if we only keep it there.  …[I am profoundly moved]…by the hospitality of Cecil Williams, the pastor of Glide Memorial Church in San Francisco, who insists that "the church is not just for believers."  In his book about the church, No Hiding Place, he says, simply, "When people come to Glide, we don't ask them if they are atheists, Methodists, or Buddhists.  We ask them what their names are and how they're doing."

 

We pray today that our community will have Solomon's discerning heart.  Let us leave to the angels at the end of time the task of judging the dragnet of our gathering.  For now we have enough to do just to know one another's names and ask how others are doing.[24]

 

May we, too, come to discover that "heaven" is here, and then start spreading it around, so that others might see it too.

 

* * *



[1] These verses from Paul's letter to the Christians at Rome are among some of the most quoted from all of his letters.  Verse 28, however ("…all things work together for good for those who love God…."*), is dangerous.  It's often treated in a way that diminishes the reality of suffering in the world.  I don't think that Paul is taking a kind of Pollyanna-like position, saying that "everything will work out in the end" or that "things can't be all that bad."  We need to remember that Paul's theology is rooted in his explanation of the crucifixion:  that somehow the power of God's grace can, and will, create something good out of anything that is inherently evil.  This letter was written, as well, at a time when the church was undergoing terrible persecution from Roman authorities, and there was a lot of dissension even within the church.  The people were beginning to wonder what God was doing about all of this.  [*Oddly enough this verse can legitimately be translated in three different ways:  1) "In everything God is working for good with those who love him" or 2) "God makes all things cooperate for good for those who love God" or this one, 3) "All things work together for good for those who love God."  As Mickey Efird, my professor of New Testament Greek, used to say to us:  "Pay your money and take your choice!  Every translation is an interpretation."]

[2] A common misunderstanding of these parables about "the kingdom of heaven" is that we have to first earn it, or at least find such a place, before we can truly have it or experience it.  God's "kin-dom," in fact, is already here.  The question is how are we going to respond to its presence in our midst?  In other words, it's not something to be acquired, only received.  The problem is that, most of the time, we don't see it, even when it's "right in front of our eyes."

[3] See the URL http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0266543/quotes.  Much of the dialogue is wonderfully laughable!   Next to the seagulls, my favorite one-liners are delivered by the crabs:  "Hey!  Hey!" – which is exactly what you'd expect them to say (if they were able to speak), waving their claws about defensively the way that crabs always do!

[4] Oddly enough this quote has biblical roots as in Ecclesiastes 8: 15 we hear "the preacher" say:

 

So I commend enjoyment, for there is nothing better for people under the sun than to eat, and drink, and enjoy themselves, for this will go with them in their toil through the days of life that God gives them under the sun.

 

Even the popular contemporary rock group, Dave Matthews Band, includes in the lyrics of its tune "Tripping Billies" the lines and repeated refrain:  "so why would you care / to get out of this place / you and me and all our friends / such a happy human race / eat, drink and be merry / for tomorrow we die"

[5] See the information on its PBS production at http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/masterpiece/americancollection/ourtown/. 

[6] Thornton Wilder, Three Plays (New York: Avon Books, 1957), p. 62.

[7] Ibid.

[8] Read about the play of this name by Eugene O'Neill at http://www.curtainup.com/longday2.html.

[10] See notes on The Plague and The Fall by Camus at http://www.wetzoollamb.net/jfpp/joan/essays/camus.html.

[11] Oddly enough, Camus himself has something to say about this character created by Homer; take note of his comments at http://stripe.colorado.edu/~morristo/sisyphus.html.

[12] No doubt you recognize this one, a line from William Shakespeare's Macbeth (Act 5, Scene 5), as Macbeth finds that his plans are unraveling all around him:

 

MACBETH:  Wherefore was that cry?

SEYTON:  The queen, my lord, is dead.

MACBETH:  She should have died hereafter;
There would have been a time for such a word.
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing
.

 

[13] Of the many quotes attributed to Jesus, one that I actually do claim is at the heart of his own theology (even though it's from the problematic text of John's gospel), is his statement as "the good shepherd" where he says to those who choose to follow him:  "I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly" (John 10: 10).

[14] This is my way of "updating" or interpreting Augustine's often quoted saying:  "You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you."

[15] While it led to his excommunication and exile from the Roman Catholic Church, I claim Matthew Fox's premise (most clearly communicated in his book, now over twelve years in print, entitled Original Blessing: A Primer in Creation Spirituality) that we ought to spend more time living out the "original blessing" of our creation, than struggling so mightily against something like the church-imposed doctrine of "original sin."

[16] Billing itself as "the world's online marketplace" (http://www.ebay.com/?ssPageName=h:h:home:US), eBay (and its local version, "craigslist" at http://www.craigslist.org/) has fast become the primary way that many, if not most, of the younger generation do their shopping.

[18] Again, for me, this is summed up in the single Hebrew word shalom – "wholeness," "health," "harmony," "well-being"…"peace."  You can't have "heaven" without it.  And you'll know it when you do have it – either in this life or in the next.  Right now, however, all that we know about is this life, so here is where we must claim it.

[19] The full quote is actually from Robert Browning's poem, "Pippa's Song:"

 

The year 's at the spring,
And day 's at the morn;
Morning 's at seven;
The hill-side 's dew-pearl'd;
The lark 's on the wing;
The snail 's on the thorn;
God 's in His heaven--
All 's right with the world!

 

[20] This, of course, is in keeping with the dietary laws; as we read in Deuteronomy 14: 9-10:

 

Of all that live in water you may eat these:  whatever has fins and scales you may eat.  And whatever does not have fins and scales you shall not eat; it is unclean for you.

 

[21] I think the line (whether original or not) was, most recently, from a beer commercial (My glass, however, would be filled with a full-bodied red wine!).  And if I weren't resting silently in the seat of my kayak observing the wildlife nearby while prayerfully uttering these words, such a statement as this would surely come to my lips as I am surrounded by my family – on any day that we simply celebrate being together.

[22] In much the same way, this is how I've incorporated a colleague, Frederick Buechner's, vision of the Trinity and then made it my own:  "The Mystery beyond us, the Mystery among us, and the Mystery within us, is One and the same Mystery."

[23] Graham Greene, The Power and the Glory (New York: Viking Press, 1981).

[24] Kathleen Norris, The Cloister Walk (New York: Riverhead Books, 1996), pp. 346-348.