Mark
4:26-34
June
14, 2015
William G. Carter
Jesus said, “The kingdom
of God is as if someone would scatter seed on the ground, and would sleep
and rise night and day, and the seed would sprout and grow, he does not know
how. The earth produces of itself, first the stalk, then the head, then
the full grain in the head. But when the grain is ripe, at once he goes in
with his sickle, because the harvest has come.”
He also said, “With what
can we compare the kingdom of God, or what parable will we use for it? It
is like a mustard seed, which, when sown upon the ground, is the smallest of
all the seeds on earth; yet when it is sown it grows up and becomes the
greatest of all shrubs, and puts forth large branches, so that the birds of the
air can make nests in its shade.”
With many such parables
he spoke the word to them, as they were able to hear it; he did not speak
to them except in parables, but he explained everything in private to his
disciples.
One
of my most affectionate memories of First Presbyterian Church was a day when
the church was in complete chaos. People were coming and going, volunteers were
folding the newsletter, a couple of people were doing an annual scrub of the nursery,
and one of the self-help groups from the community was convening down the hall.
Three people were lined up to talk with me about crises going on in their lives,
somebody had a complaint about the flower calendar, and a jack hammer could be
heard on the street corner.
In
the thick of it all, some good-hearted soul stopped by to inquire about the
cars in our parking lot. He wanted to know who was parking in our parking lot. He
knocked on my door, opened it, nodded hello to the person that I was
counseling, and said, “Who is parking in our lot?” I said, “I don’t have a
clue.” He said, “Well, who is running this joint?” And I said, “God.”
With
a look of absolute shock on his face, he pivoted around and went back to his
car. In all the years since, I have never needed to apologize for that off-handed
comment. I really do think that God is running the world. It may not be
obvious, because that is the way that God exerts power over the world. God rules
over all things, even if it isn’t always obvious. We have to be trained to take
notice.
Jesus
provides his training by telling brief stories. They are called parables. He
describes a slice of life, often from nature, and waits for us to catch on. One
of the parables today is a personal favorite. Jesus said, “The kingdom of God
is like a farmer who throws some seed on the ground and leaves it alone.” That’s
all he says. That little story needs to germinate in our hearts for a while.
Now
Jesus grew up near the country fields. He often talked about sowing the seeds,
and comparing it to God’s kingdom. Earlier in chapter four, he speaks of a
sower who throws his seed all over the place. Some seed falls on a hardened
path. Some falls on rocky soil. Some seed has no root and gets choked out by
weeds. Some of the seed falls in fertile soil.
I’ve
been a pastor long enough to know that one is true. Some people cross their
arms and close their ears whenever God is speaking, so no Gospel grows in them.
Others seem receptive, but they don’t work at it, so the Word withers within
them. Still others are enthusiastic at first, but then they get distracted by
working, and vacationing, and making money, and staying entertained all the
time, and over-programming their kids to make them just as successful and
exhausted as themselves; forget about the seed of God’s Word. But then there
are some who hear, who receive, who grow, who bear fruit – and praise God for
them.
Or
there’s that other parable about a seed, which Jesus tells immediately after
this one. He said the kingdom of God is like the smallest little seed. It
begins as this little tiny thing, but it grows and grows until it becomes the
largest of shrubs.
At
least one scholar thinks Jesus is poking fun at the cedars of Lebanon, those
enormous trees up north that adorned the great palaces of his time. If so, it’s
quite a joke, because the mustard shrub was a weed. And when it grew, it could
take over a whole field. Jesus said, “God’s kingdom starts small, and then it
grows like a weed.” It is as invasive as the kudzu in a South Carolina tree.
Now,
we can understand that one, too. When Jesus told that one, the Roman Empire
laughed and said, “You are delusional.” But when a friend did some mission work
in Zaire, he said the Christian church is growing out of sight. In one small
town, he joined up with a preacher who did 450 baptisms in a single day. It was
exhausting. They were begging to be baptized. Finally the preacher said,
“Listen, I’ll be back in a couple of weeks, and I’ll baptize some more of you
then.”
A
small seed grows beyond human control. God’s presence among us can be like
that.
But
the parable for today is different. It is quite bashful and understated. The
farmer scatters the seed and then goes about other business. He goes to sleep,
gets up in the morning, goes back to bed, gets up in the morning, goes back to
sleep. One day he wakes up and suddenly there’s a crop. It happened when nobody
was looking.
What’s
remarkable is how restrained the parable is. It doesn’t declare how God works,
nor does it invite us to do anything more to help the seed grow. No, the growth
is a mystery. Listen to that: it’s a mystery.
It’s
like the year when I discovered that my front lawn had grubs. I was raking my
front yard one spring. I scratched the dry patch with the rake, and the turf came
right up. Then I saw a big fat segmented bug wiggling away. That’s bad news in
a neighborhood where people pay a lot of attention to their lawns.
So
I went off to Lowe’s and got the necessary items. In the shopping cart went a
bag of Grub Poison, a bag of starter fertilizer, a bag of top soil to patch the
affected area, and a bag of Scott’s finest grass seed. My first task was to
hold a funeral for the grubs. The grubicide was spread, and then I murmured the
minister’s words, “ashes to ashes, dust to dust.” I could hear the grubs
yelling in defiance, and I even took a little pleasure in it.
After
a suitable grieving period, I opened a bag of top soil, raked it around,
sprinkled a little starter fertilizer, and threw down some grass seed. The
garden hose kept the area nice and wet. But time past and nothing happened. It
was frustrating. It got so bad I started muttering to the grass seed: “Come on
now, get growing!” Nothing happened. I was disgusted.
I
got tired of waiting and moved on to other projects. One night I walked by those dirt patches and
said, “If you don’t start growing, I’m going to find some more grubs.” That
didn’t work. In a couple more days, I looked outside and there were little
shoots of green all over. I’d like to take credit for my green thumb, but I
know better.
If
you have ears to hear, listen. Jesus says, “The kingdom is like a farmer who
throws some seed and leaves it alone.”
That’s
hard for us to do. We don’t want to leave anything alone. We hover over our
crops, we circle around our projects, we buy cell phones for our children so we
can call them at any moment and say, “Where are you? What are you doing?” As
somebody quipped, the cell phone is now the world’s longest umbilical cord.
Hovering
has become a habit for a lot of people. My nephew worked in a college
admissions office for a while. He said, “You wouldn’t believe how many parents
actually write their children’s college admission essays.” They stop at nothing
to get their kids into the college of their choice.
So
it is no wonder this little parable of Jesus is almost universally ignored.
Most of us like to keep in touch, to stay involved, to remain concerned. It is
difficult to be reminded of how many human situations are out of our control.
It’s even more difficult to leave important matters in the hands of God.
I
know all about that. I’m a pastor. Every day, I am surrounded by situations
that I cannot fix. I really do wish I could fix everything. Sometimes I’m even
tempted to think that I can, that maybe if I put in a twelve hour day,
everything will go better. But good people still get deadly diseases.
Well-educated folks make big mistakes. Pleasant people can be overcome by
depression and despair. And one of my daughters told me that a high school
classmate recently died of a drug overdose; the deep irony is that he was a
pre-med student.
If
there’s anything we can all agree on, it’s that the whole world needs a lot of
help. The challenge of a parable like the one for today is the challenge of
trusting that God is going to fix it. The wise farmer sows the seed; ultimately
he or she has to trust that God is finish what we cannot. No amount of shouting
over the seed is going to make it grow. We have to trust that another force is
at work in the world. We have to trust in God.
The
kingdom is like this: we sow the seeds, and go to sleep. And while we’re
sleeping, while we are faithfully out of control, God gets busy.
It’s
like the story of Martin Luther, the great reformer. Germany was in turmoil,
and Luther was leading the charge to dig deeper into the Gospel. The story goes
that somebody complimented him one day for his leadership of the Christian
revival in Germany. Luther said, “Oh, I have little to do with it.”
“But
Dr. Luther, you are a wonderful preacher.” And Luther replied, “Well, I preach
my sermons, but then I go home to drink my Wittenburg beer and wait for the
Holy Spirit to get to work.” Not a bad story for us to recall on a Sabbath day.
Or
there’s that story in one of Frederick Buechner’s books. A Princeton history
professor rebukes a preacher with all the terrible things that Christians have
done in the name of Christ. And he is thorough; he has a really long list. The
preacher’s name is Leo Bebb. And Bebb says, “Professor, I agree the world is
full of manure.” (I’m cleaning up the story).
“But
look closely at the manure,” he says, “and when you see something green
growing, that is the hand of God. God is where something is growing out of the
decay and the rot. God is where there’s something no bigger than the head of a
pin starting to inch up out of the stink and dark towards the light of day. God
so loved the world he sent his only begotten son down here into the manure with
the rest of us so something green could happen, something small and green and
hopeful.”[1]
Don’t
misunderstand: we do what we can. We always do what we can. But ultimately, the
Gospel, the Kingdom, and the salvation of the world is not about us. We do our
part; we trust God with everything else.
That’s
what Jesus says. And do you know what he does immediately after saying
this? He goes to sleep. He says to the
disciples, “Let’s row across the lake.” And as they do all the rowing, Jesus
falls asleep. A great storm blows in, the waves splash over the sides, and the
boat is getting swamped – and the whole time, Jesus is snoring. What is this? A
sleeping Savior? Is he so in charge that he can take a nap? Of course he is.
In
fact, I remember one of the first stories in the book of Genesis. God works
hard for six days. God makes a world and fills it with life. And what does God
do on the seventh day? God takes a break. God is so completely in charge that
everybody -- God included -- can rest.
This
is the Mystery at the heart of today’s text. What is the kingdom of God like?
Jesus said, “A farmer scattered some seed and went to sleep. He did not hover.
He did not stand over top of the seed and scream at it to start growing. He did
his part and let God do the rest.”
Do
I believe that’s the way God is?
(c) William G. Carter. All rights reserved.
[1] Paraphrased
from Frederick Buechner, Lion Country,
in The Book of Bebb (New York:
HarperCollins, 1979) pp. 350-351.
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