Gloria Dei Lutheran Church

Matthew 13: 31-33, 44-52

 

In one church that I served, we gathered one Good Friday in a garage to make seed bombs. It was cold, near the end of March. We all took a little bit of compost, clay, wild flower seeds and water and formed that mixture into a little muddy balls. Then we set them out to dry for a few days. Since it was Good Friday, and we were liturgical people, we set them out to dry for 3 days. And then all Easter season, we invited people to take a little bag of these seed bombs home and when the weather turned toward spring, to throw those seed bombs into sunny places around the neighborhood. The sun and rain would do their good work and the wild flowers would germinate and grow. I wonder if some of those seeds grew. I wonder if some of them are still reseeding and growing. 

 

God’s work in the world is hidden, generous and out of our control.

 

To illustrate this, I present to you a Gospel with not one but 5 parables, packed with a lifetime of hidden meaning. I have this picture of Jesus wanting to communicate the Gospel this morning and he gets on a roll and just can’t seem to stop. For the farmers and growers, let’s talk about mustard seeds. For those who spend time in the kitchen, yeast. Business folks with entrepreneurial spirit, let’s talk treasure and pearls. And of course, because there are always some fisherman in the crew, a little something for you around nets.

 

Smack dab in the middle is a woman with flour, water, oil and salt. And then she decides to mix yeast into what is the equivalent of 50 pounds of flour and makes enough bread to feed the whole village. 

God’s work in the world is hidden, generous and out of our control. 

 

Every spring, a storm that includes signifiant wind produces the same event in my yard. 

Helicopter seeds from the maple tree bombard our yard. More than I think is possible. The sidewalks could be shoveled. And those amazing seeds nestled down in and around everything else. In between the raised beds, sunflowers, peas, in the rocky patio. Sun, rain, sun rain and wouldn’t you know it? 1 million maple seeds have taken root. 

 

Well beyond our control. Well beyond our desire.

Maybe it’s not maple seeds for you. Maybe it’s dandelions. Maybe you think they are beautiful. Maybe you gather them to make tea. Or perhaps you have one of those popper things that allows you to pull them out from the root. You spent a satisfying hour on your hands and knees, pulling them up. At the end of those hour, you sit back.. Your lawn is free and clear.

But then, you happen to glance over at your neighbors yard. And you witness the horror of a sea of dandelions gone to seed. 

Stubbornly, persistently, God is doing God’s thing.

We sleep, we wake, we sleep, we wake and the seeds continue to spread. 

There is an inevitability of God’s love that can feel out of bounds, out of control. Because it is. God’s work will not be contained in our neat little rows, in our designated areas.

What wisdom from these little stories can we take with us into week? 

 

First of all, patience!

The band Alabama gave us a song in the 1992 called I’m in a Hurry. I’m in a hurry to get things done. Oh I rush and rush until life’s not fun. All I really got to do it live and die but I’m in a hurry and don’t know why. 

 

We are in such a hurry.

 

It take a long time to form a pearl, to grow a fish, maybe even longer to catch one. Seeds did not sprout overnight. There is waiting involved in growing things. 

 

In this instant 24 hour world, where when a question comes up around the table, it takes about 3 seconds for someone to look up the answer on their phone. Instant everything. 

 

Do we have any bread bakers here today. Raise your hand. You are making the rest of our lives infinitely better. 

 

It might seem like it takes a long time to make homemade bread. You have to set aside a whole afternoon! But that isn’t even true. Because first the soil has to be prepared and then the grain had to be stuck into the ground. Months of rain and sun and hope and prayer. Then a farmer had to harvest it, and send it to a miller who grinds it into flour. Truck drivers take it from the miller to to the store or the bakery. Then the baker had to take the flour and mix, kneed, wait, kneed, form and bake it. Finally, it is here. A year’s worth of patience for a loaf of bread. 

 

Seasonal!

 

The seeds also teach us to appreciate things when they are in season. Not everything all at once. A few things at a time. First, it’s radishes. Glorious radishes, chives, rhubarb, pea shoots. The cilantro has already come and gone. Tomatoes and cucumbers are just beginning. Carrots need more time.

Our life as individuals and as a community is also seasonal. Here at Gloria Dei, the season is VBS, Bible camp, building homes with Habitat for Humanity, hotdogs on the patio, coffee on the patio at JS Bean Factory, kombucha and beer at Wandering Leaf. It’s the season of Pentecost and new staff and new faces in this gathering. In the fall, it will be something else. 

 

Mystery!

 

These parables help us to remain open to mystery. We are stewards of God’s holy mysteries.

 

When you peel open a seed—you find an entire universe. Thumb nail and split it open—what you find is strange and fascinating. We are the same.

We have all this mysterious work inside ourselves. Sometimes we embrace the growth and the season and sometimes it’s all weeping and gnashing of teeth.

 

And sometimes we write people off because we assume there is no growth to be had—or we write ourselves off. 

 

A few years ago, I was running errands and listening to NPR Science Friday and the story was so captivating to me I missed my exit and then next one. Finally, I just pulled over and listened. It was about Seed Saver vaults and another about the Methuselah Seed. 

 

For thousands of years, the Judean date palm trees were abundant in the Middle East. The offered shade and fruit. But around the year 500, they were wiped out completely. 

 

Until the 1960’s, archeologists unearthed a small clay jar of date palm tree seeds that dated back 2000 years. Talk about a Seed Saver vault! But then they kept on saving those seeds in a drawer at a university for another 40 years in Tel-Aviv.

 

In 2005, botanical researcher Elaine Solowey planted one of those seeds to see what would happen. She assumed nothing would happen. I mean, who wouldn’t? The seed was 2000 years old. What are the odds? 

 

But it did sprout and produced a sapling that no one had seen in hundreds of years. And that Judean date tree continues to produce flowers and reproduce. Life is filled with mystery.

 

With all this seed wisdom this morning, it would be easy to think of ourselves as the managers of the seeds. That if the Kingdom of God is like a mustard seed, well, we better get to work planting whole fields like the whole Kingdom of God rides on our shoulders and our ability to produce.

 

If that’s the direction you feel yourself heading, come back to where we started. God’s work in the world is hidden, generous and out of our control. 

 

The Lord is the Lord of the harvest. Give that all over to God. Maybe we can give up the seed management program all together and just be birds of the air. 

In that well worn mustard see parable, the seed grows into a shrub, the birds of the air come and find their place among its branches. They find shelter. 

 

In this story, the Kingdom of God is found not in majestic oak trees. We are not talking about the cedars of Lebanon. Not the glorious pine trees in Northern Minnesota. 

 

The Kingdom of God—God’s love, justice, mercy is found in a shrub. Our expectations are not typically shrubs. A stumpy little branch. But you know how much a bird weighs? A couple ounces? A stumpy branch is enough for God’s kingdom. Pathetic in the eyes of world, perhaps. But if you are a bird looking for shelter, then it’s everything. A miracle. 

 

We are the birds. Continually returning home. Finding our shelter in God’s branches. And moving over to make room for every strange and wonderful birds of the air.