This Father's Day sermon is based on the Parable of the Mustard Seed in Mark 4: 26-34.
There’s an old saying, “Tell me and I’ll forgot, show me and
I’ll remember, let me try it and I’ll understand.” Today’s reading from Mark says that Jesus
“explained everything in private to his disciples.” Well, when it comes to the parable of the
mustard seed, I think the disciples forgot.
I say this for a few
reasons. First, a few verses before the
parable of the mustard seed is the parable of the sower. After the parable of the sower, the Gospel of
Mark also says that Jesus explained the meaning to his disciples, and then it
goes on to tell us what that meaning is.
But after the parable of the mustard seed, the Gospel of Mark just
assures us that the disciples know what it means, and tries to move on without
ever bothering to fill us in!
But that wouldn’t be so strange if the parable of the
mustard seed didn’t change over time.
Here’s some quick background on the Bible. Scholars agree that the Gospel of Mark was
the first of the four gospel to be written. Because of their similarities, scholars also
think that the authors Matthew and Luke read Mark and added additional
information from other sources. I
mention this because Matthew and Luke also have a version of the parable of the
mustard seed; but their version is different.
Whereas Mark’s version says that the mustard seed “becomes the greatest
of all shrubs,” Matthew and Luke say that it “becomes a tree.” Catch
the difference? Mark: “great shrub;”
Matthew and Luke: “tree.” You can
understand the change; Jesus said this is what the kingdom of God is like. It’s
kind of embarrassing if the kingdom of God turns out to be a shrub. How much more majestic if the kingdom of God
is a mighty tree like the cedar in today’s Ezekiel reading?
But here’s the thing, mustard plants aren’t the most
majestic. There are two types of plants
that go by the name mustard and grow around Israel. The first is called white mustard, and the
tallest it gets is about 4.5 feet, though most plants end up around 3 feet
tall.
There’s another type of mustard, called black mustard. Even though the scientific name of white
mustard is the same word used in the original language of the bible to describe
the plant in today’s parable, a lot of biblical commentators want to say that
Jesus was talking about black mustard because it gets to be a bit bigger. Black mustard grows anywhere from 2 feet, to
8ft. But even at 8ft, if you look up
pictures of it, it’s more of an overgrown weed than a tree, and botany books
describe it as lanky—not that there’s anything wrong with being lanky! But it
doesn’t really conjure up the image of a giant shade tree in which flocks of
birds could make their nests.
The kingdom of God as a lanky weed? The original parable
doesn’t seem to make sense. So if the
disciples forgot Jesus’ explanation, I wouldn’t blame them for pretending to
know the answer and hoping no one asked for asked for details. I grew up in a household where there was a
high value set on knowing the answers to things. I know what that’s like.
My dad is a college professor, so knowing things is
important to him. He’s the type of guy,
who when he goes on a hike, it’s not enough to look and the mountains and smell
the flowers; oh no, he’ll pull out a handbook and identify all the rock
formations and the types of plants. And
because his specialty is Spanish renaissance literature, he learned to speak
five languages and read two so that he can figure out the meaning behind
obscure 16th century novels.
But when I was a kid, I thought he didn’t know
anything. This was even before I was a teenager, and I
thought all adults didn’t know anything.
No, as a kid I thought my dad was particularly clueless. You see, when I was growing up, I’d ask him a
question, like “Dad, why is the water higher on the beach now than it used to
be?” And instead of answering something
about the moon and tides, my dad would say, “I don’t know. When we finish here at the beach we can go to
the library and find out.” Then we’d go
to the library and we’d find a book together on the ocean and read all about
it. And afterwards my dad would act all excited that he had learned something
new. And as a result, I would think to
myself, “Well, gosh, here I am, not even ten years old, and I’m figuring out
all these things my dad doesn’t even know.
I can figure out anything!” As a
result, I become fearless about asking questions and grew to love learning.
But as I got older, and I started watching my dad spend time with my nieces and nephews, I would see them ask him the same questions that I did. And amazingly, my dad still didn’t know the answer! Wouldn’t you know it, he still needed to go with them to library and do research together so he could figure it out! “Tell me and I’ll forgot, show me and I’ll remember, let me do it and I’ll understand.”
My father did a wonderful thing. Instead of making himself seem all big and
impressive with his knowledge, my dad made himself small so that I could grow. And though he would let me rise up of myself
like the seed in Jesus’ first parable today, my father, like the farmer in that
same parable, would also sleep and rise night and day to watch over me, to make
sure I was safe and had everything I needed to grow big while he kept himself
small.
A curious thing about mustard: the individual plant doesn’t
grow very big, but it spreads like wildfire.
A Roman named Pliny the Elder who lived at the same time as Jesus wrote
about mustard, “When it has once been sown it is scarcely possible to get the
place free of it, as the seed when it falls germinates at once.” You see, mustard plants don’t put a lot of
energy into making themselves big, they put their energy into making other
mustard plants grow. And in doing so,
they become the greatest, not the biggest, but the greatest of all the shrubs
and cover acres of earth so that all the birds of the air can make nests on the
ground in their shade.
My father has this in common with mustard; both make
themselves small to make their families great.
It is to this that Jesus compares the kingdom of God. This is where Ezekiel says God is acting,
where the high tree becomes low so that the low tree may be made high. God is
so committed to this principle, that God on high becomes low in Christ, that
God might not just tell us how to live the kingdom and have us forget, not just
show us, and have us remember, but let us try and understand. And our brother Christ will sleep and rise
night and day by our side to watch over us until we do.
1 comment:
Ben, el sermon del "dia del padre", es estupendo, Te felisito me imagino que a tu papa le gusto mucho. Tienes una alma bellisima Ben, y estoy muy orgullosa de ser tu Abuela. Te quiero Artemisa
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