Two-Minute Homily: Free-Market Religion           

FINDINGS II

Proper 12 - A - July 24, 2011

Matthew 13:31-33, 44-52             

Harry T. Cook

Matthew 13: 31-33, 44-52  

Jesus laid before them yet another parable saying: "The rule of heaven is like a mustard seed that a person sowed in his field. While it is the smallest of all seeds, it grows to be the largest of plants [like one would see in a garden or small plot], big enough that birds come and make nests among its branches." Then came another parable: "The rule of heaven is like yeast that a woman took and hid inside three large portions of flour until it was thoroughly leavened. That same rule is like treasure hidden in a field, which someone found and hid [again elsewhere] and goes and sells everything he owns and buys that field. Again, heaven's rule is like a trader looking for fine pearls. When he found one of great value, he went and sold all he had to buy it. Once again, heaven's rule is like a net fishermen will cast into the sea to catch fish of all kinds; when it was full they drew it to shore and sorted them out, putting the good ones into baskets and discarded those considered bad. Thus it will be when this age comes to a close: Heaven's messengers will come and separate the evil ones from the righteous ones and throw the former into the furnace of fire, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. So do you get it?" His disciples answered, "Yes." He replied, "In the same way every scribe who has been trained for heaven's rule is like the master of a household who brings out of his treasure chest both what is new and what is old." 

(Translated, condensed and paraphrased by Harry T. Cook.)

RUBRIC

This is a catch-all passage in which mini-parables are coined to illustrate the nature of what Matthew calls "heaven's rule" and what others not wishing to offend Jewish sensibilities about naming the deity would call "Yahweh's rule or domain." That Matthew offers a cafeteria of parables suggests, perhaps, that either the concept is so vague that it invites varying interpretations or that its nature is many-sided and challenges any human language. Randall Thompson, a 20th-century American composer, set part of Isaiah 40 to music. He called it The Peaceable Kingdom. He made it a spacious piece in terms of harmony, in transitions from  piano to forte and back, and in meter --  perhaps in an attempt to say as many different things to as many different people so that his vision of the kingdom would somehow resonate with each and all. That may work as an illustration of what Matthew had in mind with his rapid-fire set of parablettes. Each deserves its own unpacking.

HOMILETIC WORKSHOP

MUSTARD SEED. Indeed, the seed is well-nigh microscopic, and the plant it produces is relatively small. It is no Cedar of Lebanon or great California redwood. It is a modest garden shrub or tree. Not a show-off, in other words. It does its thing in simple way, but it does it. Heaven's rule, Matthew is saying, is like that. Slow and steady wins the race. The race is long and exhausting, and most people shun its heavy demand. It isn't dramatic, so not a lot of glitzy attention is paid it. It is won by quotidian acts of kindness here and there, now and again. The winner of the race is the one who is the beneficiary of the kindness, not the one whose vocation is to do it.

YEAST. It doesn't take a whole lot of leaven to make a loaf. Even with what Matthew says is "three measures" or seahs -- maybe as much as 50 pounds of flour -- a little yeast can pack a big wallop. It is hidden, the text says, in the flour. The modern chemist would say it was a catalyst, largely invisible but nonetheless powerful. Heaven's rule is that way according to Matthew's experience. If given a chance, it can have a huge impact. That might have been his hope for Jesus Judaism, that it would not only change Judaism but transform the world. This little light of mine: I'm gonna let it shine -- let it shine, let it shine, let it shine.

HIDDEN TREASURE. Here heaven's rule is depicted as buried treasure that is of no use to anyone and contributes not one whit to the field in which it is buried. One remembers J. D. Crossan's paraphrase of Matthew 6: 21: You buried your heart where you hid your treasure.* Against the background of the late first century C.E., buried treasure suggests a bunker mentality that could well have been common to some Matthean communities. It is a fact that is in some times and in some places, the nascent church had to go underground in order to survive. A Gentile convert to the Jesus movement - like the typical convert to any cause - finds euphoria and wants to tell the world about his discovery of this wonderful new thing. But he cannot, so he needs to conceal his enthusiasm and let it out only underground. Meanwhile, it becomes his owner -- this new thing -- and maybe the day will come when he can surface and tell his good news.

PEARLS. Here the angle is different. Heaven's rule is still priceless, as in fine pearls. But it is found out in the world. The one who stumbles on it essentially falls head over heels in love and can see nothing but it and possessing it. An analogy might be the picture of the fishermen dropping their nets and leaving everything behind to follow Jesus. To possess this one thing, to be possessed by it seems at first to require ignoring all else. Purity of heart is to will one thing, said S�ren Kierkegaard. This is the convert's fanaticism and drive. Seldom in life are matters so clear-cut, black-and-white. But in the first deep infatuation and passion, especially for a new and liberating way, nothing of present or past seems of value before the future which seems so sure and certain.

THE NET. Reality catches up with the breathless initiate here. Heaven's rule with its straightforward humanist ethic of habitual forgiveness and forbearance, of turning cheeks and giving coats and loving enemies is uncompromising. Its promise of a golden age gathers all sorts and conditions into it as a net gathers all in its path. But when the first test comes, i.e. when the new enthusiast is suddenly challenged to treat another as he would be treated or to love and enemy or to forgive an offender, it might be as the seed sown on the shallow soil in a previous parable.

Leave it to Matthew who seems habitually to hold grace at arm's length to trot out the fiery furnace along with the wailing and gnashing. How the 21st-century homilist or bible study leader deals with this imagery will be the measure of his or her rationality. If it is seen in its late first century context, it will be appreciated as the heavy handedness of desperate evangelism: "our way or the highway," which leads to nothing good. We are familiar with such tactics in our own day. Just listen to so-called Christian radio at any hour of the day or night, and you will hear echoes of the gnashing and the wailing and feel the heat of the fiery furnace.

THINGS OLD AND NEW. This is Matthew's coda to the parables. The idea seems to be that heaven's rule will be redolent of things of old as well of things that are brand new. That is where this evangelist found himself, viz. on the cusp between synagogue and Jesus Judaism, between the past and the future in a present that was a mixture of both. The Jesus Seminar translators see this as an analogy to the host who decants the old-standbys along with the new vintage. Try both.

* The Essential Jesus:  Original Sayings and Earliest Images. New York. 1994. HarperCollins Publishers. p. 118.

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Two-Minute Homily

Free-Market Religion              

By Harry T. Cook

There is no reason whatsoever to cede to the devotees of Ayn Rand or Ronald Reagan exclusive use of the free-market concept. None whatsoever. Vendors of religious ideas even within their own bailiwicks would be well advised to think in those terms.

The Enlightenment and the rise of liberal thought and interpretation long since took away credibility from command-and-control religious institutions. Something isn't true just because a pope or bishop or elder or rabbi or imam says so. It is true for those who freely decide it is the truth and accept it as such. One hopes, of course, that such a decision is based on reason and experience as well as passion and inspiration.

The treasure, hidden or not; the pearl, bought or not, is uncovered or purchased by one who wants that and nothing else. No one, nothing demands or requires his search for it. No one coerces him into securing it for himself.

"Heaven's rule," as Matthew puts it, is not a juggernaut. It does not roll into town and round up the unsuspecting and unwilling. And even if it does roll in, it is not the only show in town and will have plenty of competition for attention. Heaven's rule -- i.e. the kind of environment that fosters respect for the dignity of every individual and runs its communal life with that sense of dignity uppermost -- is more like the mustard seed and its modest tree. It grows up and hangs around, asking nothing for itself, but welcoming the birds of the air to make their shelters in its branches.

The mustard plant does not want to be oohed and aahed over. It does not wish to be worshipped. It is just there, thank you very much, and if you can find a sliver of shade beneath it, by all means stop by and rest a while. No bag-of-hot-air with a floppy Bible in his hand would bother to bloviate beneath its unprepossessing branches. No ticket of admission will be sold to gather around it.

It's a good place to ponder the treasure you've just sold everything else to unearth from yon field. What will you do with your wealth now you have it? Hint, hint: Give up your shirt as well as your coat. The mustard plant is a good venue at which to ponder that pearl of great price you've acquired. You could probably buy a gross of mustard plants with it and have enough left over to live happily ever after. The mustard plant could change your mind about that, so be careful.

The specter of the net sends the wrong message. No one is going to be thrown away in any end-time. But each of us will have his or her own end-time, and, at our funerals or memorial services, it will be remembered -- maybe even out loud -- what we did with what we were and what we had.

No pressure, you understand. But remembering and remembrance are two of the most human of all our traits. It is better by far to be remembered for good than for not-so-good. Gather 'round the mustard tree and figure out how to deploy your treasure and your pearl. It's emblematic of "heaven's rule," as Matthew would put it. He meant how things would be if the everlastingly kind deity of his imagination were in charge.