Mighty Mustard: Mark 4:26-34 - Fourth Sunday after Pentecost

²⁶[Jesus] said, “The kingdom of God is as if someone would scatter seed on the ground,²⁷and would sleep and rise night and day, and the seed would sprout and grow, he does not know how. ²⁸The earth produces of itself, first the stalk, then the head, then the full grain in the head. ²⁹But when the grain is ripe, at once he goes in with his sickle, because the harvest has come.”
 
  ³⁰He also said, “With what can we compare the kingdom of God, or what parable will we use for it? ³¹It is like a mustard seed, which, when sown upon the ground, is the smallest of all the seeds on earth; ³²yet 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.”
 
  ³³With many such parables he spoke the word to them, as they were able to hear it; ³⁴he did not speak to them except in parables, but he explained everything in private to his disciples. (NRSV)

Field of Mustard by Harold Litwiler.  CC BY 2.0 on flickr

When I was a teenager, I earned money mowing lawns for my neighbors.  The bane of my existence was a weed called crown vetch.  There was a large embankment in the backyards on our street, and someone planted this stuff, probably to prevent soil erosion. 

That’s fine—except that the stuff grows and spreads rapidly.  It’s thick, it tangles, and it makes it nearly impossible to grow regular grass anywhere near it.  It’s also great cover for snakes, spiders, and mice.  The only way to clear it up is with a Weed Eater—and clearing a space of just a thousand square feet can take hours.

Gardeners in Palestine probably feel the same way about the mustard plant.  Granted, you can make mustard out of the mustard seed.  BUT—it isn’t pretty.  Some would say it’s a weed.  Like all weeds, they grow, flourish, and take over the soil—totally on their own.

So it’s quite bizarre, then, that Jesus would compare God’s kingdom to a weed.  A more fitting metaphor would be a tree—particularly the cedar trees of Lebanon. 

In Jesus’ day, these were the most valuable of all trees.  They can reach a height of one hundred feet.  The wood has a beautiful golden color and it smells good.  It’s extremely durable and immune to pests.  King Solomon built the Jerusalem temple out of it.  And as much as they may have wanted them to, cedars don’t grow in Palestine.  They’re stuck with mustard.

But Jesus isn’t talking crazy when he speaks so lavishly about something so pedestrian.  He wants you and me to imagine God’s kingdom in a completely different way.

That’s useful for us, because as I look at the world today, it’s hard to believe God’s kingdom is nearer—or that it’s not a complete pipe dream. 

Let’s face it: we have all these people on our prayer list who are fighting life-threatening illnesses.  The economy isn’t getting any better around here, despite what’s happening on Wall Street.  Here in our church, attendance and offerings are down; the unairconditioned sanctuary is hot and miserable; we’re all stressed out and exhausted with work and family and everything demanded of us. 

Wouldn’t be great to witness miraculous healings and people giving their lives to Christ at every service?  Wouldn’t it be great to meet the budget for a change?  Imagine our church growing quickly into a mighty cedar, where all the weary world could come and take refuge.  Wouldn’t that be a great break from all the decline and decay we see every day?  Where is this great Kingdom we hear so much about?

Part of the reason why we don’t see God’s kingdom is that we don’t know what to look for. 

We are culturally conditioned to crave and strive for the bigger, better, faster, and cheaper.  I actually wrote this sermon while sitting in an Apple Store, which struck me as a temple full of worshippers (including me), making sacrifices to the colossus of cool, the great white Apple.  But does God only reveal himself in the bigger, better, faster, cheaper?  Are we spending too much looking for God atop cedars that aren’t there, instead of looking among the mustard vines growing among the struggles and challenges of life as we know it today?

Fact is, God didn’t bring salvation into the world through some epic, Hollywood-style conquest of good over evil.  God conquered death by helplessly suffering and dying on a cross.  This isn’t exciting or pretty.  But it’s who God is and how God works.  The world has its ways, God has God’s.  Your salvation is not an achievement but a free gift of grace.  God’s power is made perfect in weakness.  Believing that, we know where we’re supposed to be looking for God’s kingdom—and it’s down here, with us—very present among the decline and decay.

It’s the life and forgiveness you receive in a small piece of bread and tiny sip of wine.  It’s the in the peace and comfort you receive when you come before God in prayer.  It’s the Gospel that assures you of God’s unconditional love and forgiveness; a wide welcome for all people, no matter who they are or what they’ve done. 

God’s kingdom is within you.  It’s the hunger and hope that brings you into this hot and humid sanctuary this morning when there’s so much else you could be doing.  It’s in every card and note you send. It’s the compassion that poured out the doors yesterday at the clothing closet; it’s the resolve that kept us on the track at last weekend’s Relay when practically no one else was there.  It’s the love that binds us together and makes us a family. 

You may not see yourself—or others may not see you—as some extraordinary human being, like a Cedar Tree among plants.  But the kingdom of God is bearing fruit in the world through ordinary folks like you; just as through a church that would appear to have its best days behind it.

The works you do are the mustard seeds.  Small and insignificant they may seem; but that’s how God works a new creation where all the earth can come and find shelter in God’s love. The mustard seeds are being sown and God’s future is sprouting.  Who needs those seeds? Are you bold and brave enough to get into all that dirt and be the one who brings God’s presence into focus?

And can you turn your attention away from the anxiety of the times and the restless desire for the bigger, better, faster, cheaper, and more glamorous?  Look not for lofty cedars, but for the simple, unremarkable, yet eternally significant acts of God, bearing fruit like the mustard seed?  Do you trust that God the seeds of God’s grace are pouring down upon you like rain—and are you thankful?

Here and now, there is more than enough grace for everyone to take refuge in the love of God—because of the mighty mustard seeds are sown, and God’s future is happening now.