We need to
cultivate a theology of weeds.
Matthew strategically places the
mustard seed parable in the middle of a story about gardening in which Jesus
commands people not to tear up the weeds from the garden but to let the wheat
and weeds grow together. Then, like Jesus, Matthew chooses to mess with us and insert
another of Jesus’ parables that the kingdom of God is like a mustard plant.
Mustard, in the ancient world, was considered a weed and grew like a wild bush.
For this reason, ancient rabbinic law forbade people to plant mustard in a
garden because it would take over everything and spread to other gardens. I’m
from the south – mustard is like kudzu, a wild vine that can vigorously take
over an area.
Jesus is using this infamous plant to describe God’s kingdom (God’s
rule and reign) taking over the world. The Jesus revolution is not a rose
garden or elegantly trimmed hedge. It’s a wild weed that will not stay where
you plant it. And the definition of a “weed” is a plant considered
undesirable in a particular situation, “a plant in the wrong place”.
So Jesus likening the kingdom to mustard and calling it a garden
plant is Jesus bringing a bit of irony, a sprinkle of sass to his message. Sometimes,
however, we as white Christians, don’t cultivate this identity. We like to
think we’re roses when we should be weeds. We like to imagine that we always
smell good, should stay in our rows, and look pretty. But what if we’re weeds?
What if we were meant to go wild, disrupt gardens, overflow borders. What if we
were planted to be trouble-makers rather than good citizens? Jesus was a weed.
He was executed, remember? The Apostle Paul was a weed. He wrote what will
become our New Testament more often than not from prison, right? So we need a “weedy”
theology and “weedy” worship that encompasses everything, that doesn’t stick to
polite topics, that invades orderly gardens, that challenges nice boundaries. We
need a “weedy” theology that brings everything under the kudzu-growth of the “kingdom
of God”. We need a “yeasty perspective” that seeks to leaven everything (vs.
33). That means with the gospel on our lips, we must ask hard social questions,
difficult political questions, challenging economic questions – and address
them with Jesus’ stories and teachings. So let’s not be potted plants – safe,
danger to no one’s garden. We must bring Jesus’ stories to health care, to
immigrants, to white supremacy and racism, to the economy, to everything. And we
will know we are being mustard when we hear people say, “You don’t belong
here.” That’s scary but also encouraging because weeds are hard to kill and
thrive in difficult circumstances. And don’t get me wrong – weeds can be
beautiful, useful, even life-giving but they are never orderly. We are no “garden
plant”. Friends, let’s be weeds together. Let’s jump the border of Liberty and
Boone and grow in our neighborhoods. One final point about this parable. The
mustard seed is a small seed but it neither belongs in a garden nor becomes a big
tree, though bigger than most vegetables that one might plant. So Jesus is
using a bit of ironic hyperbole to make one comment about what this weed does –
it welcomes the unwanted. You see when Jesus uses the images of “birds” he
referencing a negative image – we’ve already discussed this – how birds were
often connected to demons, that eat up seed in Jewish literature (see Mark 4:1-20,
Matthew 13:1-23). They could also refer to pagans or Gentiles which is what
Jesus is assuming here. So basically – we need to be plants in the wrong place
to welcome others who have no place. And that’s what the first Christians were.
Minicius Felix was a persecutor of
early Christians, who he described like “weeds.” They were a “profane
conspiracy” and an “impious confederacy” that was multiplying all over the
world “just like a rank growth of weeds.” Around 200 AD he wrote: “They despise
temples as if they were tombs. They despise titles of honor and the purple robe
of high government office though hardly able themselves to cover their
nakedness . . .They love one another before being acquainted. They practice a
cult of lust, calling one another brother and sister indiscriminately.” They
were, in other words, undesirable plants in the wrong place.
We need to eat
a “king’s cake.”
One of the best French traditions
that I discovered upon marrying my wife is the tradition of eating a Gallette
des Rois or King’s Cake on Epiphany. King’s cake is a puff pastry made with
marzipan in which a figurine of the baby Jesus is hidden into the folds of the
cake. Once baked, the cake is brought to the table and the youngest climbs
underneath and calls out the names of those sitting around the table to
determine the order of who receives a piece of cake and thus randomizing who might
find the baby Jesus in his or her piece. Whoever finds the baby Jesus then
becomes the king or queen of the party. Cake + Jesus – how can you go wrong?
And that’s what our final parable is about.
Three facts about this parable
that you need to know:
1.
The word for
yeast is not those packets of powered granules that one finds at the
supermarket but refers to what we might call “sourdough” starter which is fermented
milk and flour.
2. The woman
doesn’t “mix” the yeast into the flour. No, the Greek word is a strange but
important one. She “hides” the yeast into the dough. The word in Greek (vs. 33)
is enkrypto – “to hide.” It’s where we get our word “encrypted.” Jesus
is urging us to watch for a hidden thing that will leaven “all”.
3.
This is no
little bit of wonder bread. Three measures of flour is not three cups. No, three
measures is the equivalent of 60 pounds of flour. That’s a lot of flour and a
lot of yeast.
So you have to know the reference
if you’re going to see the point. How often I’ve heard that these stories are about
the small and imperceptible move of the kingdom, which is true, but not
entirely the point. The kingdom is a weed, Jesus says, and will take over and
welcome the unwelcomed. And in this parable, Jesus is saying, “Pay attention!.
I’m telling you a hidden thing from the dawn of creation. I am the promised son
who will fulfill the promise of Abraham.”
Jesus’ story of a woman making bread
from three measures of flour hearkens all the way back to Genesis 18.
Genesis
18, of course, are the three visitors who come to Abraham with the promise of a
child for his wife Sarah despite her advanced age. This promised son would
therefore be the means of Abraham being a blessing to the nations. And upon
their arrival, Abraham welcomes the three visitors, who Christian tradition
understood are God. And Abraham asks Sarah to make bread using three measures
of flour. So Jesus is saying something that I want to end our series on the
parable with. He’s saying, “I am the parable – the puzzling, hidden, agent of
the kingdom, planned to come since the creation of the world, to make
everything right and save us from our sins.” So Jesus doesn’t simply model salvation;
he also accomplishes it. So chew on that. Do you want you to follow the
parables as Jesus intended? Do you want to live a life brings the kingdom into
our everyday world. Then give your life to Jesus and your actions to these
stories of surprising grace, lavish generosity, racial equity and justice. Be a
weed and find Jesus’ hidden in the center of it all. And know that when Jesus
calls us to that he is talking about evangelism. And if we do that – others
will find Jesus in their bread as well. Which brings me back to Minicius Felix,
that persecutor of Christians. The weeds caught up with him and he joined this
mustard seed conspiracy. After he converted he wrote: “What temple shall I
build him [God} when the whole world, the work of his hands, cannot contain
him?”
