Wednesday 19 June 2019

Why this Church? The metaphor of the mustard seed


A Sermon preached at Bloomsbury Central Baptist Church, 16/6/19
Ezekiel 31.1-13
  In the eleventh year, in the third month, on the first day of the month, the word of the LORD came to me: 2 Mortal, say to Pharaoh king of Egypt and to his hordes: Whom are you like in your greatness? 3 Consider Assyria, a cedar of Lebanon, with fair branches and forest shade, and of great height, its top among the clouds. 4 The waters nourished it, the deep made it grow tall, making its rivers flow around the place it was planted, sending forth its streams to all the trees of the field. 5 So it towered high above all the trees of the field; its boughs grew large and its branches long, from abundant water in its shoots. 6 All the birds of the air made their nests in its boughs; under its branches all the animals of the field gave birth to their young; and in its shade all great nations lived. 7 It was beautiful in its greatness, in the length of its branches; for its roots went down to abundant water. 8 The cedars in the garden of God could not rival it, nor the fir trees equal its boughs; the plane trees were as nothing compared with its branches; no tree in the garden of God was like it in beauty. 9 I made it beautiful with its mass of branches, the envy of all the trees of Eden that were in the garden of God. 10 Therefore thus says the Lord GOD: Because it towered high and set its top among the clouds, and its heart was proud of its height, 11 I gave it into the hand of the prince of the nations; he has dealt with it as its wickedness deserves. I have cast it out. 12 Foreigners from the most terrible of the nations have cut it down and left it. On the mountains and in all the valleys its branches have fallen, and its boughs lie broken in all the watercourses of the land; and all the peoples of the earth went away from its shade and left it. 13 On its fallen trunk settle all the birds of the air, and among its boughs lodge all the wild animals.

Psalm 104.12, 16-17
 12  By the streams the birds of the air have their habitation; they sing among the branches. 16 The trees of the LORD are watered abundantly, the cedars of Lebanon that he planted. 17 In them the birds build their nests; the stork has its home in the fir trees.

Matthew 13.31-32
He put before them another parable: "The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed that someone took and sowed in his field; 32 it is the smallest of all the seeds, but when it has grown it is the greatest of shrubs and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and make nests in its branches."


The date is 587BC, and the siege of Jerusalem at the hands of the Babylonians
            has been underway for a year.[1]

The Egyptian Pharaoh Hophra had come to the aid of the Jewish city,
            and the invading Babylonian army had temporarily withdrawn.
The people of Jerusalem, seeing the Babylonian army pulling back,
            would surely have given thanks to God for the Pharaoh’s intervention.

But the prophet Ezekiel is not so easily swayed
            by the to-and-fro of political events.
He knows that the Pharaoh of Egypt is as much an enemy to the people of God
            as the King of the Babylonians.
He knows that all empires that set themselves above the kingdom of God
            are under judgment and will ultimately fall;
and in his condemnation of such empires
            Ezekiel intriguingly includes Jerusalem itself,
                        which he says will in time have to face the consequences
                        of its own political ambitions.

So even as Pharaoh and the Egyptian army marched over the hill
            to scatter the besieging Babylonians,
Ezekiel turns the full force of his prophetic powers against the Pharaoh.

Egypt, he says, is like a tall, impressive, graceful,
            stately Lebanese Cedar tree,
towering over the other trees,
            flourishing and nourished by the waters of the Nile.

Like other empires before and since
            it saw itself as a benevolent force in the world,
offering hospitality and protection to other, lesser nations:
            which they would be wise to accept,
            if they knew what was good for them!

It had all started with Assyria a couple of centuries before,
            Assyria was the first great Middle Eastern Empire,
            and it had sacked and conquered Northern Israel 130 years earlier.

But Assyria had eventually collapsed in upon itself
            and as Assyria grew weaker, the Babylonian Empire had grown stronger.

Like the modern empires of Britain, Russia, and North America,
            the Assyrian Empire would once have seemed indispensable and unassailable.
It had thought so itself, and that was why, said Ezekiel, it had fallen
            – or rather, been felled!

It had thought it could reach up into the heaven above
            with its towering trunk and sturdy branches,
like the ancient mythological tree that stood at the centre of the world
            linking earth and heaven.

But Assyria had been felled,
            and cast into the world below, the world of death,
and what the Assyrians had already learned the hard way,
            Ezekiel proclaimed to both Egypt and Babylon.

If Israel trusts Egypt, says Ezekiel,
            it is trusting itself to a tree rotten at the roots and about to fall.

Ezekiel can see that the temptation to seek security
            in the sheltering branches of Egypt is a dangerous one.

Babylon felled Assyria, Babylon will fell Egypt,
            and then in time Babylon will itself fall.

Ezekiel’s insight is that no empire can tower over the world forever,
            they will always fall,
because dominating ambition always sows the seeds of its own demise.

Leaders of empires who think their mighty deeds of conquest in the world
            can march them to the gates of heaven
            are always doomed to disappointment.

All empires fall.

Ezekiel wants Israel of old to hear this and learn a powerful lesson,
            which is that the Kingdom of God
                        will never be established on the earth
                        by the glorious political and military progression of the people of God.

Ezekiel warns Israel that if Jerusalem sets her sights
            on becoming an empire sustained by might,
            they may win the battle but they will lose the war.

Ezekiel knows that the covenant of between God and God’s people,
            established between God and Abraham,
is to be a covenant of blessing for all nations,
            not just one nation.

And if the people of God lose sight of this,
            and start to build their own holy nation in opposition to the world,
they are making the same mistake as Assyria, Egypt, and Babylon
            because they are placing themselves in opposition to God’s intent
            of a covenant of blessing for all, not just some.

And yet, if we fast forward six centuries to the time of Jesus,
            we find Israel setting its sights
            firmly on the hope of political and military restoration.

So when Jesus is proclaimed as the messiah of Israel,
            and starts preaching the inauguration
            of the Kingdom of heaven on the earth,
he is continually heard and interpreted
            as calling for a military revolution
                        against the latest of the tall trees to arise,
                        the Empire of Rome.

Like Assyria, Egypt, and Babylon before it,
            Rome’s Empire offered to the world
            a place for the nations to find shelter and security.

‘Come, rest in my beneficent branches’,
            said the propaganda of Rome.

The Pax Romana, the peace of Rome,
            was an offer built upon the military might of the legions,
            and legitimated by the proclamations of divinity heaped upon the emperor.

This was Rome’s gift to the world,
            and the world had better accept it, and pay its taxes,
                        if it knew what was good for it.

This was the global situation at the time of Jesus
            – a new tree had arisen to tower over the world,
joining earth to the heavens by the might of its trunk
            and the strength of its branches.

And it was in this context that first century Jewish messianic expectation
            had come to focus on the hope of a coming Messiah
who would be a new King David,
            who would re-establish the political and military strength of the nation of Israel,
restoring its borders to their ancient boundaries,
            overthrowing the Roman overlords,
and creating a geographically and politically secure land
            for the people to inhabit.

This is the context into which Jesus spoke
            his deceptively simple parable of the mustard seed.

He put before them another parable: "The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed that someone took and sowed in his field; 32 it is the smallest of all the seeds, but when it has grown it is the greatest of shrubs and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and make nests in its branches."

And the first thing to notice here,
            is that Jesus doesn’t describe the Kingdom of heaven as a Cedar of Lebanon.
He describes it as a mustard seed,
            which might one day become a tree.

Despite what many in Israel were hoping for,
            the kingdom Jesus proclaimed was not another empire,
                        another Cedar thrusting its way upwards in the forest,
            out-growing and out-competing other empires on its way to the top.

This isn’t some vision of future glories
            awaiting the long-oppressed people of God
            who will finally, one day, get the empire they have always longed for.

Precisely the opposite, in fact.

This is a parable which addresses an implicit question
            which must surely have loomed large in the minds of Jesus’ disciples,
the question of how to understand
            the unimpressive and unexpectedly small nature of the kingdom
that Jesus is proclaiming is already present on the earth,
            and which can already be experienced through his life and ministry.


The disciples have already heard John the Baptist proclaiming in the wilderness:

·        Matt. 3.1-2 In those days John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness of Judea, proclaiming, 2 "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near."

And this refrain was quickly picked up by Jesus, whose first public words were:

·        Matt. 4.17  From that time Jesus began to proclaim, "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near."

At the beatitudes, Jesus had promised the Kingdom of heaven
            to those who are poor in Spirit, and to those who are persecuted:

·        Matt. 5.3 Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
·        Matt. 5.10 Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

He instructed the twelve disciples to go out into the world,
            proclaiming the nearness of the kingdom of heaven:

·        Matt. 10.7 As you go, proclaim the good news, 'The kingdom of heaven has come near.'

And the question that he addresses in this short parable of the mustard seed,
            is how it could be that what has been happening
                        in the ministry of Jesus and his disciples
            can possibly be the establishment of God’s kingdom on the earth…

You can just hear people muttering:
            “Wasn’t the kingdom supposed to be a mighty display of God’s defeat of evil,
                        and the removal of the nations afflicting Israel?”

            “I mean, sure, the miracles are nice,
                        but where is the rest of the story?
            “Where is the overthrow of Rome?
                        “The restoration of the monarchy?
            “The re-establishment of the independent nation of God’s people?”

The mustard seed story urges, warns even,
            that no-one should be put off
            by what appears unimpressive,
because that is to judge the kingdom of heaven,
            as if it were just another earthly empire.

The thing about mustard seeds,
            is that they were famous for being really tiny,
            but grow into a large plant with large leaves.

And the point Jesus is making,
            is that the large plant is already, in some way, present within the tiny seed.

There’s a technical term for this in theology,
            and it’s ‘realised eschatology’.
It’s a way of thinking about time from God’s perspective
            rather than from a human perspective.

From our point of view, time is linear.
            One thing leads to another,
                        seeds become plants, and with the passing of time, trees.

But from heaven’s perspective,
            the not-yet is also now.

The glorious end is already contained fully within the fragile now.
            The end of all things is encoded in its beginning,

It’s a shame that a scientific understanding of DNA wasn’t available to Jesus,
            because I have a suspicion it would have suited his purposes nicely here.


I can just imagine him adding another little parable:
            The kingdom of heaven is like a strand of DNA,
                        so tiny only electron microscopes can see it,
            but it gives shape to all the glories of nature,
                        from the eye to the brain, from the rose to the mighty oak.

The not-yet is also now,
            the kingdom coming is with you today.
You might not see it yet, but it’s there.

Just as the earliest discovery of DNA was done using X-ray crystallography,
            where you couldn’t see the DNA itself, just its effects,
so the kingdom is too small and insignificant to see,
            but you can trace it’s effects,
            and glimpse it’s power.

The mustard tree is already there,
            fully contained in the tiny mustard seed.
And the Kingdom of heaven is like this.
            And if you know how to look, you can trace it’s effects:

The longed for kingdom has already begun
            in the life and ministry of Jesus and his followers,
it’s there in healings and exorcisms,
                        in restorations and acts of mercy,
            it’s found in acts of inclusion and in parables of grace and forgiveness.

All these are signs of the kingdom,
            and they speak in the here-and-now
of the end result which is already contained within them:
            they speak of the truth that the kingdom of heaven
                        is for the benefit for all peoples;
            that like birds nesting in the branches of a tree,
                        so will all find their home and refuge within the kingdom of heaven;
            and that this is the final fulfilment of the covenant God established with Abraham,
                        that his children would be a blessing to all nations.

There is a very real danger to be avoided here,
            and we need to be alert to it.

For much of the last two thousand years,
            the parable of the mustard seed has been interpreted by Western Christianity
            as a legitimation of the glorious progress of the church in the world.
The deals the church has done with institutionalised power,
            from Constantine onwards,
have been understood as the growth of the kingdom of heaven
            from the tiny seed of the parochial ministry of Jesus
            to the mighty tree of the church universal.

The ‘birds of the air’ taking nest in the branches of the tree,
            have become the gentiles and pagan nations,
                        welcoming Christ as their saviour
            and joining themselves to his glorious kingdom.

In short, this parable has become a justification
            for colonialism, Christendom, and missional expansionism.

But, I hope you can see, that such an interpretation,
            is a radical distortion of the character of the kingdom
            which Jesus proclaimed.

The kingdom of heaven is not another Cedar in the forest of nations,
            it is not another empire, however Holy or Roman.

There is no mandate here for the Christian country,
            or the holy war.

Precisely the opposite, in fact.

To enter into the kingdom of heaven
            is to set aside power, status, wealth, and money.


·        Matt. 18.1-4 At that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, "Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?" 2 He called a child, whom he put among them, 3 and said, "Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. 4 Whoever becomes humble like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.

·        Matt. 19.14 Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of heaven belongs."

·        Matt. 19.23 Then Jesus said to his disciples, "Truly I tell you, it will be hard for a rich person to enter the kingdom of heaven.

To live as a citizen of the kingdom of heaven
            is to live the values of the beatitudes,
it is to learn to see the grace and action of God in the present,
            rather than to long for a more powerful and glorious future.

The kingdom is with us here-and-now
            through acts of love, forgiveness and justice,
and it teaches us to take the ordinary things of our world
            and see within them the mysteries of heaven,
so that the heavenly perspective informs and infuses
            the way we then live day by day.

I bet Jesus’ followers never looked at a mustard tree,
            with birds in its branches, in the same way again;
because Jesus had opened their eyes
            to the fact that the kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed.

And I wonder how we can learn to see the kingdom of God
            in the ordinary things of our world?

Can we learn to set aside for a moment,
            our desire for success, strength, and power,
            and find the not-yet in the here-and-now?

Can we resist the lure of the Cedar Tree,
            and discover the miracle of the mustard tree?

Can we find eternity
            in each insignificant moment?

Can we learn to associate the familiar things of our world
            with the mysteries of heaven
in such a way that we will live differently
            from today onwards?

So, as we turn towards bread and wine,
            ordinary things of this world
            which are made eternal in Christ,

My invitation to you is to begin to write your own parable,
            choosing something from your world,
and finding in it the mysteries of heaven.


There’s a space on the back of your order of service
            for you to write your parable.

If you want to, please tear it off and put it in the offertory plate later,
            or to give it to me, or email it to me.

I’ll be coming back to these at our anniversary Sunday in July
            when we look at the parable of the yeast.
And I’d love for us to hear from each other,
            some parables of the kingdom of heaven.

So, what is the kingdom of heaven like, for you…?





[1] This sermon draws on the Eerdman’s Commentary on the Bible p.651, and Snodgrass Parables.

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