Pr. Michelle Sevig
Lectionary 11b
June 12/13, 2021
The Unexpected Reign of God
My family is, or I should say WAS, a farming family. My great grandparents, my grandparents, both my mom and my dad were farmers and gardeners. You’d think the gardening gene might have been passed on to me. But the good farming/gardening skills appear to have died with my generation. My mom used to plant a huge, beautiful garden each year and by mid-summer we’d have many kinds of vegetables to eat fresh or can and freeze at harvest time.
When I was first on my own living in a parsonage in South Dakota, there was a garden plot in the backyard, and I dreamed I’d have a garden like my mom’s. I bought seedlings and seeds and planted them in nice, neat rows. But before I knew it the whole thing was overtaken by weeds. Almost every vegetable plant was choked out by weeds, except the tomato plants. Those grew unexpectedly big! I didn’t realize tiny seedlings grew into huge tomato plants that produced several, I mean A LOT, of tomatoes on each plant. The real farmers and gardeners who came to town for church got a big chuckle seeing my overgrown, messy, out of control garden, and enjoyed giving me a bad time.
In the first parable from Jesus we read today, the gardener scatters seed on the ground and then goes off to sleep. As one who sneaks in a nap daily, this is my kind of gardener! The seeds fend for themselves without any help from the gardener, and when the grain is ripe the gardener harvest it. In the second parable someone sows a tiny mustard seed in the ground, and it grows into a gigantic bush large enough to offer birds shelter in its branches. Both seem to be nice stories about God’s kingdom, where everything grows beautifully and wonderfully with God as the gardener.
But parables are never really that simple. We’ve domesticated them and they’ve become too familiar over the years. But when Jesus teaches in parables the unexpected is revealed. They are countercultural to the point of sounding ridiculous. They make no sense and Jesus has to explain them later in private to his disciples.
In the second parable today Jesus says, “The kingdom of God is like…” an invasive weed and a nuisance flock of birds. Not the kingdom of God is like a mighty cedar of Lebanon as highlighted in the psalm. Not the kingdom of God is like a field with straight rows of sweet corn that’s knee high by the 4th of July. But God’s reign is like a messy, unexpected, invasive, uncontrollable weed that provides refuge and place of rest for the unwelcome birds.
This non-farmer right here learned this week that mustard is a weed, and a stubborn one at that. Farmers hate finding wild mustard in their fields. It’s hard to control and once it takes root it can take over a whole planting area. Can you imagine a gardener planting a weed in their garden? Would anyone ever plant dandelions in their lush green lawn? No, of course not. Most of us consider dandelions a nuisance and spend a great deal of time, effort, and money to get rid of those pesky yellow flowers.
Yet Jesus uses this image of a wild plant overtaking the garden to envision the in- breaking of God’s reign among the people. I prefer to use the word reign instead of kingdom because too often Christians have used “kingdom of God” and “heaven” interchangeably. So it’s automatic to think the kingdom Jesus speaks about in parables as something to look forward to in the afterlife.
Using the phrase “reign of God” helps us to not see it as a place, but as a way of being. With what can we compare the reign of God? It’s as if it is breaking in right now among us in unexpected and ordinary ways. Sometimes it's so ordinary we don’t even recognize it. Sometimes, it’s growing and spreading so wildly that we cannot control it.
We’re invited to look at the ordinary and see the extraordinary. We are encouraged to reimagine what is beautiful and ask, where do we see the sacred?
Maybe the reign of God is like someone showing up at an AA meeting and saying, “Hi, my name is…” and sharing their story of pain, struggle and hope.
Maybe the reign of God is like a group of teenagers waiting in line for their first or second dose of vaccine. Or when after a long year of solitude and social distancing they are finally able to attend proms and in-person graduations or take photos next to their maskless buddies during their final days of school.
Maybe the reign of God is like a group of mostly young Palestinian musicians sitting in the ruble of recent bombing attacks, their instruments on their laps, producing beautiful music of hope and inspiration.
Maybe the reign of God is like a small but mighty group of people gathering together on hot Saturday mornings, to build and restore a friend’s home that was destroyed by fire.
Maybe the reign of God is being with someone as they prepare to die, telling stories, singing beloved songs and saying prayers, while crying a river of tears.
Maybe the reign of God is like __________. How would you complete the sentence?
If the reign of God is like an out-of-control mustard weed, we should be able to see it, but sometimes we don’t. We just don’t. So, I’m going to invite us all to open up our imaginations this week and look for God at work in our daily, ordinary, sometimes boring, maybe even complicated lives? Would you take a spiritual walk through the garden with me, so to speak, and be on the lookout for God’s reign among us? Where do you see God creating hope? How do you experience the sacred?
Would you be willing to be on the lookout this week--maybe this entire summer--and share when you experience God’s reign of extravagant, wild, out of control grace being shared. Where are the places you see hope coming to life among death and fear? When do you sense God at work in the world?
We’ll drop the prompts in the chat so you can respond now or send me a text or email. Kids or artists of any age draw me a picture. Share a photo on our Facebook page.
Let’s help each other see what Jesus was helping his disciples to see, that God comes among us in the unexpected, that the reign of God is made known in the mystery of Christ among us. And as we’ll sing together shortly, “The reign of God is near. Ablaze among us, kindling hearts, the reign of God is here.