6-16-2024 Mustard Seed - Kingdom of God Like a Weed?

Holy chaos in the reign of God grows like a bad weed.

Transcript

6-16-2024 Mustard Seed  - Kingdom of God Like a Weed?

This is not the only time Jesus tries to explain what the realm of God is like. The Mustard Seed analogy alone is told by Mark once, by Matthew twice, by Luke twice. If we look at all five of these Mustard Seed mentions we know that besides the fact that a tiny seed grows into a huge tree in which many birds could make a home, that if one had faith the size of a mustard seed, one could order a mulberry tree to uproot itself and make a new home in the sea, and possibly the most well-known reference, that if one has the faith of a mustard seed one could move mountains. When Jesus gave his disciples the charge to preach the gospel through all the world, there was around 200 million people on the planet - 200 million today. There are 7.9 billion people on this planet. 2.4 billion identify as Christians, down 1 billion from the previous year. [Wow] 2.4 billion is roughly 1/3 of the world's population. What's interesting in this parable, [hello], is that any farmer who has ever had a mustard seed in her field will tell you that a mustard seed tree wreaks havoc with her crops, as do all the birds that such a tree attracts. The parable is told in such a way as to inspire hope, but look, the tiny seed can grow into something huge, powerful - a home for all the birds. Small, but mighty, is a thing. Okay, so let's say the small was the band of original disciples, and the mighty is the body of Christ today; 2.9 million? 2.4 billion…. 2.4 billion. I was in Prague, France in March 2022, and I visited St Pierre Cathedral, a church that dates back to 1606. It's funny to think that our contemporary churches are connected to churches such as that one, that has stood the test of time, and that contains statues of Jesus that are so precious, they were buried during the war, so as not to be damaged. Can you imagine? War is coming to their shores, and they think we got to go get those Jesus statues. You know? Those beloved statues were then dug up and restored after the cacophony of war was silenced. Now, I cannot say what I would do if war were to visit our shores in a way that it has, say Ukraine, but it's hard to imagine that protecting statues would be one of those things. It's easy, I think, to focus on what we think we can't control, hiding the statues, when everything seems out of control. God bless them. I could feel their anxiety in the story of their digging to bury the statues. The members of this huge institution we know as the church are not immune to wanting to exercise control, now are we? The church has wreaked havoc in the world like the birds that gather in a mustard tree. And the truth is that this same church that began with a handful of believers has grown to 45,000 denominations worldwide… because unity, you know? 45,000 denominations. It is often as corrupt as it is holy. It is as troubling and hurtful as it is beautiful and loving, and while it's easy to get incensed when we hear about incidents where the church has taken advantage of people or hurt them or been led astray, it shouldn't be that surprising, because why? Because the church isn't made of brick and stone. It's made of people. It’s made of flawed people who would crucify its Savior. It's made of the very people for whom that Savior died. And when one looks at all that Christianity has done throughout the ages, both good and bad, it is a reasonable comparison to say that, by our faith, we really have moved mountains… even some that we had no business moving. [Yes] Such as the families that were torn apart because the Doctrine of Discovery and the arrogance of Christians to decide that indigenous people were inferior and needed to be taught to leave their sacred ways behind. Still, that kind of havoc and destruction is not all of what Christianity has done. In its best moments, we the people, who identify as Christians, have fed the hungry. We have visited the imprisoned. We have petitioned governments for acts of Justice on behalf of those being unjustly persecuted. Some of us have sat in jail because of that, because of the protests. We have given hope to the hopeless and forgiveness to the regretful. Church buildings have provided shelter from the storms of life for those walking the road of sobriety and those struggling with other forms of addiction. Churches have become literal shelters for those without homes and those whose homes have been destroyed by war. For 8 years, Lutheran Immigration, Immigration and Refugee Services, have welcomed more than 500,000 refugees and immigrants from around the globe, and you know this, because I believe people in this congregation are currently helping with the families from Venezuela, yes? [Two families] Two families who are newly here from Venezuela, and your work then becomes part of that big tree that is creating a home for all. Right now, the church is at a crossroads in time. I don't have to tell you that church attendance is in decline and has been for years. I don't have to tell you that many churches continue to close their doors for lack of membership. I suspect you've already thought about this. But our challenge today is to muster the enthusiasm to continue being and doing the work of the church even though we are tired. Lord, we are tired, and we're disheartened. We are grieving, and grief looks different depending on the light in the room at the moment.

So I want to look again at today's Gospel message through another light. Move to another part of the room. Let's look at it outside of the institution of the church, outside of the buildings and cathedrals that cost so much to maintain and protect; far away from any statues or symbols that we treasure and hold. I want to look at the body of Christ, itself, as a mustard seed which never was meant to grow inside the building. A mustard seed is a plant that not only grows to be huge, but it seemingly grows overnight. Overnight! One day it is a seed. The next there is this tall smelly plant that looks really like a weed. Really. Jesus is ----- comparing the rain of God to a weed. I like it better when he compares it to like a woman seeking for a coin or the last sheep or making bread, but today, we're on Kingdom of God is a weed. But what if it's true? What if it is a weed? What if it's one of those determined weeds that grow up overnight and take over your yard. The Kingdom of God is a weed pollinating everything and populating your whole yard without anything any stop to it. Weeds are inconvenient and messy! They do not go away easily, do they? [No, they don't.] The Reign of God is inconvenient. It is messy. It happens maybe even when we don't want it to and there's no good way to root it out because it will just grow back. The Reign of God is inevitable. It is tough. It is resistant to poison sprays that try to kill it and it grows in the unlikeliest of places. Jesus is not talking about the institution we know as the church. For Jesus, the Reign of God happens outside of the walls of any religious building. He's talking about you. He's talking about me. And he's talking about what happens in our own hearts and then spreads to our communities, because we simply can't help it. Following Jesus, more than anything, is about loving one another. We show this love when we consider the actions of one another in the best possible light, and when we interpret miscommunications and disagreements as part of what it means to be in community with one another. We show our love when we show up for one another both online and in person. We show love when we resist the temptation to retreat permanently into our comfortable spaces and remember the joy of building community together. We show love to God and to one another when we continue to be faithful even when it is hard to do so; when we bravely face decisions we must make and we must make together. If churches do not take action to determine their own future, they are succumbing to a slow death in which a few are left alone to try to carry the remnants of a congregation to its final resting place, instead of seeing what else might grow, if they let go of the control of saying, ‘this is what the reign of God must look like.’ People of God, I know you're tired. I know you're sad and worried and even grieving for all that you have lived through, that we have lived through. I know you may disagree with decisions that have been made that affect you and those decisions might have left you angry. This is all part of ‘war’. And after, and often during a war, people that endure it together do one of two things. They separate because they can't bear looking at someone who reminds them of what they've been through, or they bond even more closely together. God is faithful. Period. Even at a time of war, at during a pandemic, a drought, famine, the largest refugee crisis this world has ever known, God continues to work through God's people to bring life and love and hope to all the world. Someone asked me what was my favorite part of France; my visit to France. It was this story. I was walking on the street of Paris, late one morning, and, uh, some of you know that in Paris and other European countries their, their shops, particularly their bakeries and, um, places restaurants, they always have the goods spilling out into the street in displays. They had tables outside before the pandemic. So I'm walking past a bakery… I mean a butcher, with all of the meat, um, both in and outside the store. And as I am walking past, this dog comes, and the streets were packed with people. This dog comes, medium-sized dog, and turned up waggy tail, a mut of some kind, and just taking a walk past the display, and when it gets to the very end, with the side of his mouth, grabs a whole package of sausage. I mean a whole package of sausage and continues walking down the street. Doesn't run. Doesn't want to draw attention to himself, right? Just continues as if, yep, I'm picking up my to go order right now, with these sausages in the mouth. Everybody on the street that saw him started to laugh. So there was this swell of laughter as the dog worked its way down the street. I couldn't help but follow the dog cuz I want to know what exactly was his plan now. Turns down an alley… I look down the alley and you know, you know what's coming at the end of that alley was what? More dogs! It was his war buddies. He took those sausages back and next thing you know all these dogs were barking and wagging their tails and jumping and he had literally brought home the bacon. That was my favorite part. It wasn't the historic church even though I'm a pastor. Because in that church I was alone. But on the street in that one moment, laughing in joy with a bunch of strangers at the antics of a dog providing for his pals, I felt connected to humanity in a way I have often felt in the very best moments of being the church. In a way I have also longed for sometimes being in the church. We are the church. We are a weed. We are well beyond being able to be contained in a building because this weed is watered by the Holy Spirit, and this weed is, was, and forever will be, completely out of our control. Thanks be to God.  [applause]