Weeds. The gardener’s worst enemy. An undesirable plant breaking into an otherwise orderly plot of perfectly planned out flowers or vegetables. A nuisance to be kept out of any garden in order to maintain the purity and integrity of the land. Plants that make their way through cracks in the concrete and come up through the patio with no regard for our well thought out and carefully crafted landscaping. A distraction from the beauty of our rose bushes and a threat to the well-being of our perennials. Unappealing, unattractive, and as any gardener knows, undeniably irritating. An interruption of chaos into our well-laid plans for beauty and order.
This morning’s parable of the mustard seed comes at the conclusion of several parables having to do with gardens seeds—and yes—weeds. Many of us, especially those of us who have grown up in the church have heard this parable a million times. And most of us could say with a relative degree of certainty that we know that this parable is about. Even if we have never laid eyes on a mustard seed or a mustard plant, we can nod our heads and say we know what it is that Jesus is talking about here. We can liken this parable to stories of the underdog like David and Goliath, or see it as a metaphor for the church— which started as a small movement and transformed into a vast, world-wide church with millions upon millions of members. Great things come from humble beginnings— that is the conventional wisdom about this text. And while this is certainly a worthy message to take away from this parable, I would suggest that there is a lot more going on here than merely a simple story about the potential hidden in humble packaging. Furthermore, like any of Jesus’ parables, if we simply rely upon conventional interpretations to carry us through the week, we may just miss out on the true power and depth of what the Spirit is saying to us here and now. And so I would like us to take a closer look at this familiar text, beginning with the imagery of the mustard seed itself.
When it came to gardening, first century Jews had very strict rules about what kinds of seeds could be planted together. And as far as the mustard seed was concerned, the rules were very clear. According to the mishnah— which is the Jewish code of oral law, it was actually forbidden to plant mustard seeds in a garden with other plants because of how quickly it could spread and overtake anything else that might be growing nearby. Some actually considered mustard to be like a weed— once planted, It was likely to become a nuisance and a threat to the integrity of any well ordered garden. And so the fact that Jesus was comparing the kingdom of heaven to this wild and unpredictable-- even somewhat undesirable plant-- would have, at the very least, caught the crowd’s attention. I can’t help but wonder how they would have reacted. Were they surprised? Confused? Perhaps they were even a little bit offended? After all, it’s not often that we compare the things we value most— our most sacred ideals-- to a nuisance or an undesirable weed.
So why does Jesus do this? Why does he use a metaphor that might have confused or even offended his listeners? Many biblical scholars believe that Jesus may have been using this parable as a reference to himself-- after all- he was not the messiah that most early Jews wanted or expected. 1st century Jews expected their messiah to take the form of a great king, akin to the likes of David or Solomon in all their military might and royal splendor. They did not expect a poor carpenter’s son and his band of misfit disciples. Not to mention the fact that Jesus was considered by many in the religious establishment to be a nuisance and a threat. And so perhaps, by using the unexpected imagery of the mustard seed, Jesus was inviting his listeners to re-imagine their ideas about God and how God works in the world. It was a challenge to seek God in unexpected places, and by doing so, participate in the building up of the kingdom of God. Jesus’ first disciples were able to do this. They looked at Jesus— a weed by many other people’s standards— and they saw God incarnate. And look what they built.
But what about us? Jesus’ 21st century disciples? How are we meant to receive these words?
I think we can begin to find the answer to that question by asking ourselves this: what are our modern day mustard seeds? Where are those places we wouldn’t normally expect to find God? The cracks in the concrete where weeds sprout up without warning and show us new and unexpected things about ourselves, about God, and how God works in the world?
There are many ways to answer this question, but I think one place we may begin to look is in the faces of those whom we-- as a society and as a culture-- tend to write off. Either because we see them as deficient, or troublesome, or otherwise undesirable in some way. In our politically charged and polarized society, for example, we are awfully fond of putting labels on people— Democrat, Republican, Conservative, Liberal, Rich, Poor, Legal, Illegal, Gay, Straight-- the list could go on and on. And it can be tempting sometimes to use these labels and categories as a way to make judgments about who are the worthy and who are the weeds. But Jesus is telling us to take a second look, especially when it comes to the so-called weeds-- those so-called undesirables.
I couldn’t help but think of the character of Zacchaeus as I was preparing this sermon-- the corrupt tax collector that we read about in the Gospel of Luke who nobody seems to notice until Jesus singles him out in order to insist on dining with him. The crowd around Jesus and Zacchaeus in that moment grumbles with discontent—
“But he’s unworthy!” they say.
“He’s a tax collector! A burden on society! A bad person!”
But Jesus sees something in Zacchaeus other than a weed. And that small bit of mercy is what inspires Zacchaeus to make amends for his dishonest ways. Jesus’ action of recognizing that seed of goodness— however small— however unlikely—is what opens the door for God’s transformation to take root.
Perhaps Jesus would have us learn a similar lesson in our society today.
“The kingdom of God starts with you,” he might say to us, “and while you may not always think much of those other people out there-- you might think they’re a nuisance, or a threat, or a burden-- here’s the thing-- they are part of it too. And you can only build the kingdom if you are willing to do it together.”
I believe that any time we draw lines of division and exclusion— for any reason-- we inhibit the growth of the kingdom of God. I believe we are called to look at each and every person we meet and see them as an equally beloved child of God— one who has within them seeds for transformation. If we are willing to take a risk, to reach out to all who might cross our path, and allow that little mustard seed to be planted in the well-ordered gardens of our churches and communities, we may just find ourselves planting the seeds of extraordinary transformation-- allowing the kingdom of God to spread in ways we could never have imagined.
A second thing to keep in mind as we look for our modern-day mustard seeds is the importance of keeping Jesus himself as our primary example. We are a society that values perfection, power and prestige. But it was not the powerful and prestigious that Jesus kept company with. It was the outcast, the sinner, the poor, and the lame. It was in and amongst the margins of society where Jesus chose to spend his time. Likewise, if we want to be able to recognize all the places where God is present in our world, we have to be willing to look into the margins of our own society— those places of poverty and injustice—those places where we may at first glance see nothing but weeds of pain and hurt. This can be difficult to do, particularly because when we are confronted with things like disease, or poverty, or injustice, we can so easily feel overwhelmed and powerless to do anything about it. But this is precisely where the conventional wisdom about this text is most crucial to remember. To remember that it doesn’t take mighty or extraordinary deeds to bring God’s love and grace to the hurting places of the world. It takes only one small act of kindness or compassion to plant the seeds of God’s kingdom in the world. Imagine our little acts of compassion being like that mustard seed— once planted, they quickly spread, and crowd out the pain and darkness that once surrounded them, in order to make way for hope and new life.
Finally, I think it is worth bearing in mind that our modern day mustard seeds are not just those places to be found outside ourselves. We also have those places of hurt or brokenness within us-- those inner weeds that we wish we could uproot and toss aside. It could be bitterness over a hope that has not yet come to pass, it could be anger over a failed relationship, or conflict between loved ones. But the healing power of God is such that God can turn even the most bitter of weeds into seeds of hope and healing. Remember the words from Paul’s epistle that we heard this morning— there is nothing— not hardship or distress, not things present nor things to come, not life or death, or anything else in all creation-- that can separate us from the love of God. If we allow God to enter into those places of pain and conflict, if we can recognize where God is present in those situations, perhaps we can begin to open up space for healing.
This parable is so complex because it isn’t just about where we look for God— though it is about that. But it’s also about how we can participate in God’s ongoing work of transformation in the world. It’s about recognizing beauty in the weeds, but it’s also about planting our own seeds of heaven in the world around us.
And so the challenge and the invitation for us is to ask ourselves: if we are able to recognize God in the midst of imperfection— to see beauty where others see only weeds-- what could we build?
If we saw God in one another despite our differences— despite the lines in the sand that we may have drawn in the past— if we recognized the seeds of goodness in even the most unlikely places-- what could we build?
If we allowed ourselves to encounter God in the broken places of the world and the broken places in our own lives, and planted seeds of compassion and justice where others might have given up hope-- what could we build?
