The mustard seed teaching isn’t a how-to. It’s a here’s-what-we’re-up-to. To understand the difference, we need to take a step back.
Proper 6B | Mark 4:26-34
People often ask about our tradition: about Christianity, The Episcopal Church, and how we practice our faith here. These questions take different forms, but it is really the same kind of question asked in two ways:
- What do you believe?
- What are we supposed to do?
These are serious and deep questions. They are also universal; representing the very ground of what it means to be human.
We all crave understanding and purpose.
We also know, deep down, that following the practices of a tradition isn’t itself the answer, but the means of receiving the answer. And because we want to receive the answer, we know where to look.
So we seek rabbis and priests and pastors and shaman and gurus who can help us find enlightenment. And the first disappointment comes when we find out that they can’t give it to us. We don’t have the answers. Answers aren’t locked up in a secret vault or stored at the top of a mountain.
The truth is that these questions don’t really have answers.
But what we in the church do offer is a path, a direction, with practices that help us find what we’re looking for. And this, my friends, is where the magic actually happens. Not in achieving something, but in seeking it. Walking the path others have worn. And trying it out. There is no true destination. The journey is the point.
We really struggle with this concept. I think because it is of an entirely different substance than those questions about belief and specific actions.
A journey is full of really specific and unique experiences. Like, if we go on a road trip, we pass specific landmarks and stop at specific gas stations. We even order specific coffee drinks from Starbucks.
Our journeys are full of specificity. But our spiritual journeys are also full of vague and complex ideas, feelings, emotions, and experiences that mold and shape how we see the world. Trying to apply the same metrics to that stuff is a recipe for disappointment.
We ask questions and expect direct answers. But what we have instead is a pattern, a tradition, a way of life. That is the answer.
And it’s an answer with a ton of options.
The Way of Love
This way of life is often treated with the same didactic nature which we apply to those questions. We want to get into the specifics. What exactly do we believe? What exactly do we do? Because we think there is one answer!
This way that we follow, this pattern of life comes in varieties of expressions, colors, and textures. Like quilters, we might have a favorite stitch. If we’re painters, a favorite brush stroke. Musicians have chords. It isn’t the only way, but it is your way. And you’ve found that when you use your technique, it brings you closer to something.
Part of this journey for us is to explore the rich poetic character of Jesus’s parables. And we get two small, vibrant teachings this morning.
The first is about seeds and the harvest. The second is about a tiny little seed that is transformed into a shrub taller than the trees.
But we might miss the depth of these stories if we’re still stuck on what we’re supposed to do here.
The Kin-dom
With what can we compare the kingdom of God?
It almost reads like a throwaway line. Like it’s filler. The teacher standing in front of the students, trying to think of what to say next. Hmmm…what should I say?
But for us, it reminds us again that Jesus isn’t telling us how to be a good Christian. He’s describing the Kin-dom of God. A different orientation to creation.
The Kin-dom is the divine project itself. It isn’t a how-to manual, but a vision of the world transformed. It is the reign of God, not people, filled with justice, healing, and wholeness for all.
This is the orientation of Jesus’s ministry. It is always pointed at the mission.
So he illustrates that mission, the missio dei, mission of God with images of seeds which grow by the grace of God. Not by our interference. In the first, we see our part comes in planting and watering and harvesting. But it’s God who makes it grow.
The mustard seed takes us in a different direction.
Here is a tiny seed that becomes a giant shrub. Again, we see the power of God!
But here, also, is a shrub which grows so large that it attracts birds to nest in it. Not like a little decorative bush, but like a tree.
Jesus describes a transformation so improbable that it involves the bending of the laws of nature. And he says the Kin-dom is like this: a seed planted and nurtured, growing and spreading out so its shade can protect many creatures.
This isn’t a lesson in how to be good. But it does reveal a glimpse of what God’s project looks like.
A project that involves us.
This is our destination.
The work is the journey.
That is why I’m so grateful for the labor of millions who have come before. They have shaped this path, walked it for centuries. Tended to it, ensuring that we might have a way of seeking. A way that we can tend to and prepare for those who come after us.
This path includes our faith tradition and this building. It’s doors and our hospitality. It’s a path that is formed through the Book of Common Prayer and in our praying with it.
Many of us can be grateful that our parents brought us here. But thankfully it is God who brings it all to life.
As a parent, that’s really good news.
So may we strive to make this mighty shrub hospitable for all the nesting birds and every hatching chick. May our hearts grow beyond the confining limits of the reality we know. And may God’s Kin-dom rain down grace, peace, and wholeness upon this community in love and true compassion. Amen.