11 Pentecost Yr A

In a culture where bigger seems always to be better, this little collection of parables just don’t fit. When the life of the spirit is ignored, and people are fed with the only nourishment available, the consumptive acquisition of material goods, these stories just seem silly. But these stories show us the Kingdom of God, and the Kingdom of God is surprising, even shocking, amazing and wonderful. Each of these stories is about the ordinary, the mundane. They are not about anything really valuable, except the pearl, possibly. A mustard seed, leaven and dough, a treasure hidden in an ordinary field, shopping, and fish. The smallness of the mustard seed is inappropriate for the greatness of the Kingdom of God. The amount of leavening dough will expand far beyond its original container. These kingdom of God parables serve to show us that the kingdom of God is nothing like the ordinary, nothing like the known, nothing like the empire, nothing like social relationships, nothing like family relationships.

And each of these little stories shows us transformation. The Kingdom of God is like a mustard seed turning into a plant, yeast turning into more dough than anyone can bake, an ordinary field becomes a treasure chest; an empty net becomes full of fish.

The Kingdom of God was and is breaking in to the present world, to earth. That is what Jesus taught us to pray for. This is what the resurrection and ascension of Jesus and the gift of the Spirit are about. We are not to be taken away from this earth but the resurrection makes us agents of the transformation of this earth, today and in the future, this is the now and not yet, Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again.

The Kingdom of God is so big, so amazing, so wonderful there is nothing in our experience to which it can be related, therefore metaphor and parable are all we have. Our language can only point to the possibility, the picture can only begin to tickle the imagination. The Kingdom of God is like this little mustard seed taking hold and growing, eventually it becomes a bush in which the birds can find shelter and rest. The Kingdom of God is like the yeast in the dough, enough to make that dough so huge it cannot be contained.
The Kingdom of God transforms your life, right here, right now. What was dead is alive. Wake up people, to the promise of new life, to the promise of transformation, to the promise that you will encounter God in your midst in the mundane and ordinary.

Where do we see God at work in our midst? Where do we see a mustard seed-like bush, that really doesn’t exist for it’s own sake, but for the sake of those who benefit from its life?

These encounters are all around us. Each time we say yes to the possibility that like the mustard bush, we don’t exist for our own sake, but for the sake of those who may benefit from our protection, or encouragement or kindness. Each time we say yes to the possibility that life can be deeper and meaningful because God came into our midst and lived and loved, suffered and died we become more like the human God has called us to be.

The thing about transformation, this kind of transformation, where God takes hold and does something surprising, even shocking is that it usually feels like chaos, it usually feels like a loss of control. In fact, I do believe when we feel most in control, we are farthest from being molded and shaped in God’s image. But most of our energy is spent on staying in control, preserving the comfortable. The parables show us however that after the encounter, nothing is the same. Everything changes when you find, or are found by, the gospel.

Do we live our lives in this reality? Do we really live our lives so that the gospel which startles us, shocks us, challenges us, is at the center of our lives? Because when we do, stuff happens, a new thing arrives. We can never plan these new things, or new people, or new challenges, but we can say yes to them, we can make room for the possibility that God is interested in reaching out to us with the gift of new life, resurrection. And when we do, all of a sudden we begin to hear God’s call. People enter our lives that make us think, or make us uncomfortable, or demand our attention, our energy, our resources. When we live our lives with the gospel at the center, we realize that pain and forgiveness are part of the reality, and we see our sinfulness, our shortcomings, a little more clearly, at least clearly enough that we are brought to our knees to be forgiven.

When we continue to ignore the gospel surprise, and when we divert our attention to removing whatever it is that is causing disruption to minimize the pain and confusion, we only forestall or anesthetize it. And the irony is the forestalled pain must be felt, and when it is, whatever confronted us in the first place seems worse in scope and degree than what it might have been to begin.

What is God calling us to? What does this gospel call us to do? We must ask ourselves these questions. We must look head on at these stories and let them startle us out of our complacency. We must let them call us to be who God has created us to be, even in the chaos of the response.

Alleluia. The Spirit of the Lord renews the face of the earth:
Come let us adore him. Alleluia.