"The kingdom of God is as if someone would scatter seed on the ground, and would sleep and rise night and day, and the seed would sprout and grow, he does not know how. The earth produces of itself, first the stalk, then the head, then the full grain in the head. But when the grain is ripe, at once he goes in with his sickle, because the harvest has come."
Last week the choir sang a new song, written by a friend of the Buelow’s. The man is a musician and songwriter with Elton John’s band. He’s a songwriter, but five years ago last month his son died in a tragic accident, and his gift for writing songs went silent with his son. Sometimes that happens, we all can imagine it, that something so painful as the loss of a child would make something in us go mute, or break.
Late last year when visiting Max and the Buelow family we were processing whatever feelings we all had. And in the context of that conversation Tracey said, “Bring only love.” They were words that could have easily been forgotten. Imagine all the good words that someone has spoken to you that you think you need to remember but they slip from memory, like a single grain of sand or tiny seed escaping your closed hand between your fingers…and then they are gone. But those three words got stuck in the soil of my heart – Bring only love – they probably were planted because those words gave me the keenest insight into how a family, how parents could endure what the Buelow family has – with two children bearing life-threatening illnesses –and yet they have made this life of theirs into a graceful inspiration to so many. So, the words I remembered, no, really the words themselves wouldn’t be forgotten.
Like the seed of God’s kingdom, Tracey threw out some seed (being who she is there were plenty of seeds of inspiration planted). “The seed sprouted and grew, we don’t know how. The earth produces of itself…”
I don’t really consider myself a very creative person – I don’t have a lot of original thoughts. I do read widely (not particularly deeply) and I like to be inspired, so, in preparing sermons I sense that I’m like a bee who takes from this flower here, and drinks from nectar there and when I mix it up sometimes it becomes the honey of a sermon. When Max died I did not sense that I was inspired. I was in pain. I hurt for Tracy and David and Ilsa and Emily, and Lena and Mary Ellen…each individually and all of them together. I hurt for Max. I hurt as their pastor. I hurt as a parent of children and I hurt as their friend. Every part of who I am hurt for their loss.
At Max’s funeral I quoted a few people, read scripture, and spoke of God as a symphony and the director and you and I as the music and the orchestra. We all play music, it isn’t a question whether we contribute to the music, we all contribute to the music – the kingdom question is whether we are in tune…and the tune was what Tracey had said, the tune is always and everywhere: “Bring only love.”
I echoed the words that Tracey and Scripture and others had given me. Those words, like a wind-born seed, went into the ears of 1000 people. I’m sure they planted themselves in many. I’m sure many wanted to remember them, but they slipped from them over time. Others remember only the sense of love expressed that day. But, for at least, Davey (the songwriter) they planted in the tear moistened soil of his soul, heated by his own heart-rending grief for his own son, and germinated, sprouted, and grew and became a song. The fruit of that day, immediately harvested, was a song, after five years of a silencing grief for his son. His own son could be present in his grief put to music. He brought only love.
“The kingdom of God is like a mustard seed, which, when sown upon the ground, is the smallest of all the seeds on earth; yet when it is sown it grows up and becomes the greatest of all shrubs, and puts forth large branches, so that the birds of the air can make nests in its shade."
Like many of you, I watch for signs of God’s presence, the in-breaking of God’s kingdom. It is exceedingly rare to see large signs from God – large signs like the parting of the Red Sea, a pillar of cloud and fire before you. What more often happens is a glimpse – there it is – like looking for whale to breech and breathe its misty exhale and then it slips beneath the waves again. You can watch and watch and sense that you can figure out where that very large creature is going but then, just when you are confident that you can guess, the pod turns and they’re sliding silently beneath the waves. Oh, the whale is there – you know for sure – you just don’t know where anymore.
I was very surprised last week by the gift of music brought to us by the Buelow’s and the choir and the songwriter. I didn’t know what to say to it. I felt like when I’ve watched whales surfacing to breathe, just slipping their dorsal backs out of the water enough to make their presence known and disappear again. You wish you could see more but you know you won’t. But then that mighty creature comes streaming up from the depths and shoots right up out of the water and comes crashing down in a wave and spray…all you can say is “oh, my…” Followed by stunned silence, awe and gratitude that you were just there just at the right moment, with your eyes directed at the right spot, not distracted…and you can’t believe you saw it…but you won’t ever forget it.
That was what last week was like for me. The kingdom breeched. In ministry you don’t often get to see results. In fourteen years of being with you, I’ve seen fruit of God’s kingdom that has occurred in you and me. But it isn’t quick stuff…it doesn’t happen at microwave speed. I’ve thought a lot about my father in the last few weeks getting ready for Father’s Day. He was a construction worker. He’d go to work and he could see what he was doing. In a short time something would exist that wasn’t there before – someone would live or work in the building he built. As a kid, we’d drive around, and sometimes my dad would say, “I built those homes” or “I worked on that big building downtown, hanging outside of the building with 15th stories of air between me and ground.” It isn’t like with ministry and so I sometimes envy how it must have been for him.
Most of the faithful ministry done within this congregation would never make it as a news story, get a headline, or be quoted on a t-shirt. The caring for the sick, needy, the teaching of youth, the growth of spiritual lives, the giving of love and money to people and causes – it all slips through the fingers most of the time and is forgotten. We like to see spectacular things happen…we like to make them happen. But the spectacular things breech too seldom and we’re left with quiet obedience doing faithful but little things, like on a long, long walk just putting one foot in front of the other.
What I was blessed to remember last week from the Buelow’s and the Choir and the songwriter is that there are no small things.
There was more going on than I realized. And so Jesus said, "The kingdom of God is as if someone would scatter seed on the ground." That must have confused the disciples. A kingdom is where a king builds a palace. A kingdom is where a king rides a great stallion to lead his soldiers into battle. A kingdom is a grand and glorious place -- and that was what the disciples wanted from Jesus -- something grand and glorious.
But Jesus said, "The kingdom of God is as if someone would scatter seed on the ground." Scattering seed is not for kings. Scattering seed is for peasants. Newspaper reporters don't write articles about scattering seed. Nobody cares about scattering seed.
But Jesus said, "The kingdom of God is as if someone would scatter seed on the ground." There is nothing exciting about scattering seed -- unless you are a gardener -- unless you can envision what the garden will look like once the seed has grown -- unless you can imagine the beauty of the flowers.
But the point is that to get excited about sowing seed, you have to have eyes to see that which is not yet visible. You have to be able to see into the future -- to see that which will be instead of that which merely is. You have to be able to do a little Imagineering, as Walt Disney called it. Imagineering is the ability to see what is not yet there. It is the ability to look at an open field and to envision parents and children having a grand time at Fantasyland -- and Tomorrowland -- and all the other lands. Imagineering is the ability to look beyond what is to what can be -- to what will be.
When at DisneyWorld many years ago I remember reading about the grand opening. Walt Disney got that process started, but he had died before DisneyWorld was completed. His successors finished DisneyWorld, though, and it was every bit as grand as Walt had imagined it. Someone said, "Isn't it too bad that Walt didn't get a chance to see this!" Someone else said, "Oh, but he did see it. That's how it happens to be here! He did see it."
Walt Disney did see DisneyWorld. He saw it in his mind and in his heart long before the bulldozers began clearing land -- long before trucks began pouring concrete -- long before amusement rides began to take shape -- long before children began to come. Walt Disney saw DisneyWorld, and that's how it came into being.
In the parables that we are considering this morning, Jesus calls us to do some Imagineering -- some seeing beyond what is to what can be -- to what will be. He calls us to look beyond the ordinariness of the people in this congregation -- and to see something more than the ordinary things that we do here.
Jesus calls us to look into the future to see what cannot really be seen yet. He calls us to see beyond a group of kids coming forward to hear the children's sermon -- or a vanload of young people going for a weekend retreat -- or a Sunday school teacher trying to get the boys calmed down so she can tell them about Abraham.
In the parables that we are considering this morning, Jesus is calling us to do some Imagineering -- to see in our minds and hearts what will come of it all -- to see our children growing up to raise their kids in Christian homes -- to see Christian doctors and Christian teachers and Christian lawyers and Christian businesspeople making a difference for Jesus wherever they find themselves. Jesus calls us to see our congregation -- and congregations like ours -- as making a real difference in our world.
Jesus says that "the kingdom of God...is like a mustard seed, which, when sown upon the ground, is the smallest of all the seeds on earth; yet when it is sown it grows up and becomes the greatest of all shrubs, and puts forth large branches, so that the birds of the air can make nests in its shade."
As ordinary people in an ordinary church, we are often tempted to ask what we can do -- to ask whether we can make a difference. Jesus calls us to do the littlest things -- scattering the seed of faith -- the seed of generosity -- the seed of kindness -- the seed of love. And he assures us that our humblest work, by the grace of God, will make all the difference.
Source: Pastor Craig Beeker Sermon, June 18, 2006, Westlake Lutheran Church
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