The Kingdom of God is Like a Weed

 Jesus likens the kingdom to a weed. (The mustard seed grows into a weed.) So the kingdom isn't the project you are doing in the shed, it is to be found behind the shed in the unkempt part of the yard not usually visible from where all the action is happening. That's funny. It must have provoked at least a little snigger amongst some, while others may have been a little offended.

These days it is difficult to find someone in the church who doesn't recognise the danger of identifying our pet projects with the kingdom. We know that when we give our hearts to pet projects (that is, the pet project becomes an idol, displacing the kingdom from its place of honour in our hearts), all kinds of problems and disasters occur. Idols always distort those who worship the idol and the outcomes. 

If avoiding making our pet projects into idols were as easy to say as do, I suppose human history would look significantly different to what it actually does. And this isn't just for religious people. Pet projects become ideologies, driving adherents to say and do all sorts of crazy stuff. Like any idol.

And this is why the parable of the mustard seed is so helpful. It's a warning against pet projects. Even when we think the pet project is the kingdom. Even when the pet project begins in kingdom-type activity. It's just too easy to equate what we are doing and thinking with the kingdom. We all decry the empire-building of yesteryear but are happy enough to think that when we act justly or evangelise (or whatever it is your church tradition values in particular) that we are doing God's work. Well, yes, possibly. But it is a slippery slope, and is why history looks like it does.

I could just say, let's hang loose people. Let's not invest too much in our pet projects. But how to give (of self) genuinely and hang loose? How to avoid becoming tepid? (Neither hot nor cold, see Revelation 3:16.) Well, keep looking behind the shed. That's the point of the parable, or at least part of it. Keep looking behind the shed. And when we do, and we see the weeds growing, let the weeds take your interest for a while. We can divide our attention, which is a good, practical way to get our hearts off the pet project and (at least potential) idol in the shed. God is doing all kinds of stuff, not just our pet project. It might be time to move on from the pet project. The kingdom requires nimbleness.

Here is a parallel from the Christian tradition. People hunger for spiritual experiences. Christians have always hungered for spiritual experiences, and when an 'experience' is granted, hang on to the experience. And not just Christians, it seems that many contemporary people are hungering for 'spiritual' experiences, although who knows exactly what the world thinks it means by 'spiritual'. Anyway, the advice from the Christian tradition is not to hang onto the experience. The experience may well be helpful, but hang onto it and it will become less and less helpful until it has the opposite effect. Kind of like how the pet project can become an idol. The advice is to just go back to praying, like normal, and leave behind the experience. The experience has done what it was meant to do. Move on. And that is part of the problem with seeking a  'spiritual experience', it feels like it is helping us grow, but it will actually stop us from moving and growing in a relatively short space of time.

Or another parallel. In the Christian tradition, God is more unlike than like any image or thought we have of God. Words and images have the tendency to become replacements for God, that is, idols. Or, less dramatic, prevent us from continuing our journey into and with God. We get stuck. Just like spiritual experiences, we can get stuck. Just like pet projects. We can get stuck. The kingdom is moving on, let's keep looking, moving, joining, looking, moving ...

More than a Prophet

Prophets, at least as we use the term now, lack identification with those they criticise. Those they come to save are on the other side of the dividing line, and those who are condemned have to make it over to the prophet’s side of the river. The modern-day prophet tends toward black and white judgment, and speak with deep resentment, not sympathy. Or so it seems to me.

Although, not just modern prophets. John the Baptist, who the NT sees as the last of the OT style prophets, is more than a bit like this. I imagine he would have approved of the parable of the sheep and the goats we heard in Matthew a couple of weeks back. A nice, easy division between those in and those out, the good and the bad, the blessed and the damned. (I was going to say a nice dividing line down the middle, but John the Baptist was anything but in the middle; most people wouldn’t have made it by John’s judgement.)
He offered a water baptism to escape the fiery wrath to come, too bad about the unwashed.

Jesus was seen as a prophet. But he is more than a prophet. Not just in stature as indicated by John today with the metaphor of the sandal. Jesus stands apart also because of his willingness to identify with those he came to save. This identification begins with his baptism by John in the Jordan. The significance of Jesus’ baptism is brought out particularly in Matthew’s Gospel. For the Baptist the messiah cannot, should not, be baptised. That’s for sinners. Jesus should be doing the baptising. There is a divide that should not, cannot, be broken. Jesus disagreed. And, of course, Jesus’ death on the cross: complete and utter identification to the point of godforsakenness – you can’t get any deeper identification with sinners than that.

The black and white condemnation of a prophet just doesn’t sound like Jesus. He is more than this. (Just as his good news of the kingdom is more than a parable about dividing sheep and goats.) Indeed, John the Baptist doesn’t sound like Jesus. John thought this himself. John had serious doubts about Jesus before he, John, died. Prophets are often graceless. Jesus was full of grace and truth.

We all have a bit of black and white condemnation in us. But more likely in a church like this, we might meet the same gracelessness but in a softer version. Something like, “If only everyone could just love one another,” or “If only people would be kinder/more respectful etc.” Sounds reasonable, but such sentiments lack grace. Behind it is the assumption that people are the problem, and the solution lies with people. That lacks grace. People might be the problem, but the solution lies with God. This is why God became human as Jesus. That’s why Jesus was baptised by John and died on the cross. God is with us in our human failure, not as a prophet, but as more than a prophet.

Gracelessness also encourages despair. Where’s there to go after “if only people would …”? I suppose we could condemn them, force them, or I suppose we could just keep trying, plod on because what else is there to do? I think a lot of people are in that place of plodding on.

When I pray for the kingdom I don’t pray, “If only people would be kinder etc.” It’s self-righteous. I pray, “your kingdom come, your will be done …” We are not those who have fallen into despair or cynicism or just plod on, we live by hope because it is God’s kingdom. Grace is alive and well in the world. Jesus is risen. (Come Lord Jesus!)

Conflict Between Kingdoms: Mk 1:21-28

Let’s go through the story. It’s the Sabbath, so like a good Jew Jesus is off to synagogue.(1:21) We are told he teaches them as one with authority, and not as the scribes.(1:22. Remember, this is Jesus on the scribes ’ turf.)And then a demon-possessed man confronts him.(1:23) Defiance on the part of the demon soon becomes fear.(1:24) Jesus then exorcises the man (1:25-26) and once again those in the synagogue marvel at his authority to teach and heal. (1;27. Note that there is an alternative translation at this point ; “A new teaching! With authority he commands even the unclean spirits, and they obey him.”)

Notice in this story that the content of the teaching of Jesus is omitted. Notice also how the specifics of the exorcism are hardly mentioned, unlike other stories of healing and exorcisms we get in the Gospels. (For example, Mk 9: 14-29) Notice also that we are told not merely that Jesus taught with authority, but that his authoritative teaching was unlike the teaching of the scribes. And the story finishes with another discussion of the authority of Jesus, making the story of the exorcism framed by discussion of Jesus’ authority, before and after.

That’s why this story is not exactly about the content of teaching of Jesus. Nor is it merely a story demonstrating Jesus’ power over the demon, otherwise why frame the exorcism with the contrast between Jesus and the scribes? There is more at work here than a simple healing/exorcism story, or a story just highlighting the authority of Jesus. This is about conflict. This is about the reign of God, and how that reign brings in its wake conflict. A few verses before our reading Jesus begins his ministry proper by proclaiming the nearness of the reign of God (1:14-15), calling the first disciples (1:16-20),and then immediately is in conflict with those opposed to the reign of God. (1:21-27: see also 2:5-12; 2:15-17; 2:23-28: 3:1-6; 3:20-30; etc.)

Building For the Kingdom, Not Building the Kingdom

We can address problems and bring change, but we don't change the world. Injustice just moves on, or so it seems.

From a World Vision pamphlet:

• Human trafficking enslaves more than 27 million people worldwide
  
  
• Human trafficking generates $7 billion a year and is the third biggest crime in the world behind drugs and arms.
  
  
• It is estimated that more people are enslaved today than in the entire 400 years of the transatlantic slave trade. (My emphasis)
  

Which is depressing if we think we are building the kingdom. I have heard N. T. Wright make a helpful distinction between building the kingdom and building for the kingdom. What we do here does not bring in the kingdom, and we will not change the world. But the work we do will be used by God in the transformation to come, which will be historical and material. The way in whcih God uses it is not to just take it over and continue the work, but rather in a surprising and novel way. This is why the small acts of peace and justice, trust and love, are not worthless in comparison to the great problems of the world.

"You Are The Generation We Have Been Waiting For!"

Yesterday many of us had a good session with Tim Costello and Jim Wallis in the St John’s Chapel. Tim Costello is well known in Australia. Jim Wallis has been an extremely influential figure in the churches in USA, particularly in is work through Sojourners in bringing out the true justice orientation of the biblical faith. He is very good stuff. His early books and writing in Sojourners almost 30 years ago where very influential in my life. His main point was the need for us to continue to struggle to meet the world’s needs with God’s justice and compassion. He invoked the axiom we have all used at some point, both in reference to ourselves and now to younger generations: we can change the world! Foolishly, however, I asked a question during Q & A time. My question went something like this:

"It seems to me that while we can change some of the world, we don’t seem to be able to change the world. We win some battles but also the world seems to be the same in so many ways from generation to generation. The realization of this can come as a shock. Many people when they realize this become disenchanted, even cynical. How do we prevent this from happening? When disenchantment begins to set in do we hope people will be able to move from ‘we can change the world’ to hope in God, or should we perhaps modify our discourse to young people now, which would mean not being quite so optimistic about the extent of change. Utopia is not going to come through our action."

Which didn’t seem to go down that well. (I wish I hadn't used the word utopia; it seemed to exacerbate things.) Jim reiterated his point about working for those causes that are here with us now (a good point and quite right), and that things have changed. His new book uses as examples of the change: Desmond Tutu in his struggle against Apartheid and the anti-slavery movements of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries,among others. I think he might even have interpreted me as saying that nothing changes so why bother! But anyway, I wouldn't mind an answer to my question. When we say to young people ‘You are the generation we have been waiting for”, at some point in the future most of them will realize that, although great victories might have been achieved through their work for justice, injustice just moves on to a new crisis. This crisis too can be overcome, but injustice has already moved on again! I know so many people who have lost the passion for justice and faith because they could not move from “We can change the world” to hope in the God who will bring the change in God's way and time. (This was one of the points Jim made in his talk - hope in God as essential.) Hoping in God is not a renunciation of responsibility, but relieves us of the need to carry the messiah complex cherished by secular, enlightenment society. We hope in God, and act as ambassadors for the God of justice, working for signs of God's kingdom now, and discovering the kingdom where many overlook it.

So, my question again: Do we continue to tell young people they can change the world, or do we change (perhaps only subtly) what we say to them in the first place? But even subtle changes, while I suspect more honest, are just not as inspiring as the refrain, "You are the generation we have been waiting for!"

Do Not Be Anxious

There is a spot in the Adam Sandler movie Spanglish where the Mexican maid is worrying about her daughter, and instead of the Sandler character saying, 'Hey, don't worry, it will be alright,' he says children are a good thing to worry about. Which is all a bit counter-cultural. We are told not to worry, not to stress, etc. And it is easy to read this into Jesus in Matt 6:25ff. But I don't think this is what Jesus is saying. I don't subscribe to the idea that our task is to get to a point in life where we do not have to worry. I think there are good things to worry about.

In the Scripture reading just mentioned, the contrast Jesus is drawing is between being anxious about those things that tend toward superficiality and seeking God's kingdom. He is not saying seek a spot where there is nothing to be worried about. Or should I say 'concerned'. I think the cultural message about worry and stress (that is, aspire to a stress-free life) is just a mask for withdrawal from the world. Jesus says that we should seek the kingdom. That will involve worry and stress.

A few points:

• I'm not suggesting worrying yourself sick about the kingdom. That would be to forget that it is God's kingdom, not your kingdom. Realising this allows us to take one step back from what we are striving for, to be what the tradition calls detached. It is God's kingdom, God's ultimate responsibility, and God will see it right. (We are now touching on faith and hope in the resurrection of Jesus.) This is why kingdom worries are not the anxieties of the world. (Not to mention that the kingdom anxieties are more than clothes, food etc.)
  
  
• If you have to worry about things like clothes etc, then don't worry about the fact that you are worrying about them! Just get it over and done with, do what you have to do (whatever that is) to allow you to stop worrying about that kind of stuff. And then get on with seeking the kingdom.