Genesis 29:15-28; Matthew 13:31-33, 44-48

Before I say anything more this morning, you need to know: I was tempted by Bob Kanuck's suggestion on Thursday that the sermon title might better be: Beware of your father in law! After your hearing this part of Jacob's story you might agree. But I ask that we put aside any trouble we might have because of our cultural biases with a more than two millennial old text about marriage customs in Genesis. We might debate those sometime but for this morning I'd like us to consider some things beyond that debate.
I'd like us to consider the kingdom of God and two of the images that Jesus invites his listeners in Matthew to be engaged with. We've heard them before. But I'd like us to hear them in a new way perhaps and hear how Jesus invites us into that kingdom. (Read Matthew 13:31-33.)

As a little background, I suggest a couple of thoughts that arise out of Burton Mack's writings on the gospel. He indicates that it is unfortunate that the Greek basileia has been translated as kingdom. For we who have been brought up on fairy tales or legends or history, we tend to think of kingdom in terms of a specific place with a particular ruler or tyrant. But if we consider when Matthew was written, we would find there was much concern and discussion about power, privilege, and how to guarantee a just and beneficent exercise of power. Basileia, as the Greeks used, has more to with rule; it has to do with process much more than place, a way of life much more than a location on earth.

So when Jesus talks about the Kingdom of God he is suggesting how people are under divine rule; he's not talking of kings. Jesus is speaking about power and what the world would be like if God ruled our hearts and actions.

The kingdom, Jesus says, begins with smallest germ of existence - like human life itself - the smallest of substance, barely visible to the naked eye, with no apparent labeling telling of what it can turn into once it starts growing. I like to remember that most of us don't have a clue at the size of a mustard seed in the mid East - they are much smaller than the cultivated seeds we're used to seeing and using. Yeast, in the second image Jesus also offers can transform a mix of dough into something much greater in size than flour and water alone.

When transformation happens, a spec of life can burst into a dynamic, greater than one-life organism.

The kingdom of God is like a mustard seed that someone took and sowed. The kingdom of God is like yeast that a woman took and mixed….

In two of his books, The Historical Jesus: The Life of a Mediterranean Jewish Peasant and Jesus: A Revolutionary Biography, John Dominic Crossan describes the kingdom of God Jesus talks about in Matthew. Crossan says that when you consider the first century Palestinian mustard plant, it might give you a new dimension to the kingdom of God. There were both cultivated and uncultivated mustard seeds/plants. Mustard plants were considered weeds; they were always cropping up where they were unwanted. One would have to be careful of cultivated mustard plants as well; they tended to take over gardens. Not only that they tended to attract birds within cultivated areas, where they are not particularly welcomed. Mustard plants were real pests and challenges to the farmers of Palestine. So what is Jesus saying? The kingdom of God is not welcomed, considered a pest; a threat, something you would want only in controlled amounts, the kingdom was stirred into being by/for undesirables? Maybe this is so when the rulers of the day have total control and don't want to give that control away. When the norms of the day are well established, it is not a welcome thing to want to make any changes.
Similarly when we consider the second image, there is a challenge for those who hear Jesus: adding leaven to dough in order to make bread was not a holy act. In fact, by adding leaven, it is no longer holy but every day, secular bread. Within Jewish custom, the bread is no longer for the feast. Further, having a female mixing the yeast into the dough would also be heard as religiously impure, unclean.. What is Jesus up to here? The kingdom of God is supposed to be wonderful. It is divine, holy, something welcomed, something good. But Jesus is saying the Kingdom of God is not held by these rules of order, it's not even kept within the temple or sanctuary or priestly living.

He is turning things upside down and inviting his followers to hear. Jesus is turning things around on us and inviting us into this topsy-turvy living.

Given some of the activities this past week with our almost-presidential candidates and thinking about the kingdom of God, I was reminded of Berlin many years ago. I was reminded of the daring first movement to tear down the wall dividing Berlin, Germany, and two worlds. Do you remember the beginning act that led to the destruction of the wall and then led to the melting of the grip of the cold war on the world and the destruction of the USSR, the Soviet Union? Who knew that such an act of disobedience would crumble the hold of the powers that be to create something new? Oh, I am not saying everything is solved but a great crack dismantled the bear hold. Today perhaps Jesus would have used this as a parable saying the kingdom of God is like the wall of Berlin that came tumbling down….

When I think of the kingdom of God, I also think of a woman who was just too tired to stand on that bus; Rosa Parks dared to sit down. I believe she knew just what she was doing; I don't believe, however, she realized fully what this simple, justified act would turn into. The Civil Rights Movement of the 1960's has become a movement into the '70's, '80's, '90's right into this century where we still are working through the deep seeded, pervasive implications of racism in our America, and discerning, working toward equal, civil rights for everyone.

Today perhaps we can say, oh yes, I agree, of course these two movements are of the kingdom of God. Let God rule! But at the time when these changes were taking place, the structures and people being challenged by the bus ride, counter sitting, wall climbing, wall crossing, rock throwing, voter registration, job opportunity, educational rights, did not welcome the undesirables demanding a change in power. And some of us were/are the very ones being challenged.

Certainly there are more examples of kingdom living that start off from the tiniest speck of an idea that has germinated out of God speaking to one rather than the cultural norms in which we are immersed. The South African break down of apartheid, Habitat for Humanity, and the Southern Poverty Law Center pop into my head immediately. I believe Jesus is saying to us just as he was saying to eavesdroppers, and his friends and followers two centuries ago: Don't be satisfied with this way of living. Don't move through life not examining the fruits we receive and at whose cost do we receive them.
There is more that God is saying to us. Listen deeply. "Love me. Truly. Love yourself. Truly. Love the other one across the way, as yourself. Truly." That, my friends, is kingdom living; that is simply the kingdom of God.

Watch out, hold onto your hats. And as Annie Dillard says, you may need crash helmets. It will call you outside of your comfort zone. I leave you with one more image of the in-breaking of God's kingdom.

In the New York Times this past week, I suppose, triggered by the high gas prices and increased use, there was a snapshot presentation of ordinary, diverse life on one line of the subway. Another day, the NY Times had an article on another subway route distinguished by its timely schedule and few runs each day and the people who ride that line. I'd like you to picture this NYC subway scene that Peggy L. Shriver offers for us:

The Spirit of 34th Street
Doors opened with a silent scream,
like photographs of anguish;
the subway paused, shed cargo
and raged on.
She lurched aboard,
sagged into a vacant seat,
frail weight of her gray years
hunched with cold.
Numb fingers plucked at rags,
drawn close against raw misery.
knuckles, cracked and swollen white,
clutched into a plea for warmth.

He, dark and lithe,
swung down the aisle,
taut jeans dancing
rhythmically.
With Latin grace
he, sidled past
her patient form,
in one smooth gesture
disappeared through subway doors,
leaving in here lap,
like folded dove wings,
his black leather gloves.

Indeed, thy Kingdom come!