In the Name of the Living God: Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.
Jesus used parables to explain many things to His followers. In today’s gospel, taken from the 13th chapter of the gospel according to St. Matthew, Jesus uses several parables to describe the “kingdom of heaven.” Among the parables before us today is the parable of the Mustard Seed. Jesus said:
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.
While the exact meaning of this parable is a matter of great debate, I think it’s safe to suggest that one meaning may simply be that great things can grow from small beginnings.
In fact, if Jesus wanted to make a similar point today, He might engage us by saying something closer to home. He might say:
The kingdom of heaven is like Apple. It began by Steve Jobs in a garage as a hobby, but, over time, became the world’s largest publically traded company.
You get the idea: something extraordinarily significant can come from a small, insignificant beginning.
The Universal Church is certainly a living example of something that began as nothing – in a crèche in a dirty stable in a little dump of a town called Bethlehem. Eventually the Babe in the crèche grew and became a dynamic teacher, attracting a handful of uneducated fishermen. And from there you know the rest: we get a rooster crowing, the wood of the cross, an empty tomb, a resurrected, ascended and living Lord – and two billion Christians worldwide (and growing)!
So, small can become big! And that is certainly one way to read the parable.
But maybe there are other ways to understand the parable as well. That’s the beauty of parables.
Maybe the point isn’t so much about amazing growth. Maybe it’s about amazing grace – the grace found in being freed from the pressure to become extraordinary by identifying with the simple and humble nature of the mustard seed itself. And I’m suggesting this to you because I believe one of the great diseases of our time is our addiction to becoming extraordinary.
A couple of years ago Gus was on a wonderful local soccer league coached by a great group of volunteer dads. They had a great time every Saturday morning, and they gave it their absolute best. But effort wasn’t quite enough; they lost every single game!
But what surprised me the most happened at the end of the season. Despite losing every match, every single player got the same big, shinning winner’s trophy. I know it was a well-intended gesture to lift their spirits, and I’m not picking a fight here, but deep down I know that the unspoken reason – the deeper reason – they all received trophies is because of the pressure to win – the pressure to be extraordinary.
Brothers and sisters, part of the sufficiency of Christ – part of being in Christ, part of being a follower of Christ – is the realization that He loves and delights in caring for the weak and the ordinary – little seeds like you and me.
Or, you may want to consider the parable of the mustard seed through the lens of what Malcom Gladwell called “the tipping point” in his 2001 book by the same name. You may remember the book; it was required reading for me and for anyone in PR or marketing at the time. The tipping point, according to Gladwell, is that exact moment when an idea, trend or social behavior crosses a threshold – like a ball rolling up a hill – and it tips over, starts rolling down and spreads like wildfire. But it all begins with one person – one little idea, one mustard seed.
Before Gladwell got all fancy and famous, it was Blessed Mother Teresa who said, “Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love.” In other words, all of us can do small, loving things – mustard seed like things.
And here is the gospel bonus: when small, mustard seed acts are steeped in love and saturated in grace, they are not small at all. By definition great acts awaiting their tipping points. Little is a lot when it comes from God!
And this has happened millions of times in human history, and, by God’s mercy and grace, we pray that He may continue to use His followers – you and me – in the very same way.
This week I was reading a book about how the British Empire eventually abolished slavery in the nineteenth century. We all credit William Wilberforce with spearheading that effort, and we rightly celebrate him as a hero and champion of human rights. But, I was stunned to learn that he didn’t have a well-planned strategy in the beginning. In fact, he had no plan and no strategy at all.
One summer afternoon Wilberforce and his friend William Pitt (who was the Prime Minister at the time) were sitting in Pitt’s garden reading and sipping tea. Wilberforce was reading a book about slave conditions by Thomas Clarkson. Wilberforce read a few lines to Pitt, and when he was finished, Pitt casually looked over at Wilberforce and said, “Why don’t you introduce a motion on the slave trade.” And Wilberforce replied, “I think I will.”
And in that amazing exchange we see something that began as small as a gesture over tea that grew, blossomed, reached its “tipping point” and changed the world for millions of people. Small acts of love – mustard seed moments, I call them – can do just that!
Finally, this parable tells us something about growing in grace – the eternal process of growing in holiness – to become the women and men God intended us to be from the beginning. And what it tells us is of immeasurable comfort.
The parable of the mustard seed tells us that we can expect growth to be slow, not instant, and that any growth at all is a result of the nourishment we receive. After all, mustard seeds don’t just spring up into big shrubs by their own striving. And neither do we.
Before it was a large shrub with limbs and a canopy for birds to find rest, it was just a tiny seed. The only reason it grew was because it was properly nourished. It works the same way for us; the only way we grow in grace and holiness is by being nourished by God’s grace – given most essentially right here at this altar each and every day of the week as we receive the very Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ.
We could go on now, but I suppose I’ve “teased your brain into active thought” by now (C.H. Dodd). So, we’ll stop here for now. May God’s holy Name be praised.
Sermon preached by the Rev. Charleston D. Wilson
Church of the Redeemer
Sarasota FL
9th Sunday after Pentecost
30 July 2017