To Hear the Parable

A sermon preached with the people of St. John’s Episcopal Church in Oakland, California.

This morning, we find Jesus by the Sea of Galilee. Actually, he is afloat on the Sea of Galilee. Such a large crowd has gathered, that he gets in a boat and projects his voice out to all those gathered on the shore; a bit of an ancient-slash-divine amphitheater effect.

He is trying to help members of this growing crowd catch a glimmer of understanding of what he means when he says “the Kingdom of God.” And as he often does, he makes use of parables. And both of the parables we hear today have to do with seeds, and planting, and growth.

When I think about seeds, and sprouts, and stalks and grain and shrubs and branches, it conjures memories of gardens I’ve kept, and those of friends; of hiking trails and favorite parks; of outdoor church workdays and volunteering. For me, thinking of soil on my hands and underneath my fingernails brings up good and peaceful feelings. And remembering all those failed tomato plants? That makes me chuckle.

But these kinds of light thoughts and feelings would likely not have come to those by the Sea of Galilee that day. And that is not because we live in different eras, but because we live in different proximities to power. Because for most of them, working the soil is not a pastime, and not even a choice; it is serious, back-breaking business.  

New Testament Scholar the Rev. Dr. Raquel Lettsome writes, “Those gathered [that day] were more than likely dispossessed landowners or day laborers whose lack of employment and/or land enabled them to wander the countryside following Jesus. They were ensnared by debt for their entire lives. The burden of Roman taxes, Jerusalem tithes, and the money required to seed the land and take care of a family left many people living at a subsistence level.”[i]

So when we consider this, and we imagine ourselves transported to that shoreside, shoulder-to-shoulder with the members of this specific crowd, do these parables sound different?  

Jesus said,“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.”

For me, what was a somewhat light, fun and hopeful tale of seeds producing fruit without much work “just because” becomes an image of nothing less than liberation. It becomes a vision of, for example, dangerous agricultural labor practices melting away. Unnecessary; as a new world order — God’s world order — is established.

Jesus also said, “With what can we compare the kingdom of God, or what parable will we use for it? It 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.

And again, what was, for my privileged ears, a kind of silly tale of a tiny, generally unpopular seed growing into a big shrub, becomes an image of no less than the justice of God. Something or someone labeled by human systems of power as of little or no value becomes a refuge and protector; a safe home and a giver-of-life. The powerless becomes powerful.

I believe God continues to give us modern-day parables. And so, as Americans, I believe we have a third parable to consider today.

There was a young nation that made itself rich and powerful through the sin of chattel slavery. Soon, this nation broke out into civil war. During that war, the government from which the rebellious region had attempted to break declared all enslaved people free. But 900 days passed before an army arrived in the most remote region to enforce emancipation. And when that day came, those who were already free, were free.

This parable — Juneteenth — is not a feel-good story about the sin of white supremacy and racist violence in the United States coming to an end. It is nothing less than a glimpse of the true coming end of this story, which is the coming reign of God; and God’s fully-realized justice; fully-realized liberation.

We caught a glimpse of the reign of God, when, last month, the President of that same young nation awarded the highest civilian honor, the National Medal of Freedom, to Opal Lee, a Black American woman whose paternal great-grandmother was born into slavery in Louisiana. Now 97 years old, Lee tirelessly campaigned to make Juneteenth a federal holiday. And by tirelessly, I mean that at the age of 89, she walked from Fort Worth, Texas to Washington, D.C. to make a symbolic point and take her case directly to the President. Thanks to her work, we as a nation now have a time set aside to contemplate and consider this parable of Juneteenth every single year.  

Our Gospel reading closes by saying, “with many such parables Jesus spoke the word to them, as they were able to hear it; he did not speak to them except in parables, but he explained everything in private to his disciples.”

This secrecy that shows up a lot in Mark’s Gospel can feel troublesome, certainly to me. Why should God’s truth and Jesus’s teachings be only for a select few? But today I’m not sure it’s really about secrecy. I think it’s getting at this truth that some of Jesus’s disciples (some of us!) are going to need help hearing some of God’s parables; getting that glimpse God wants us to get. Particularly when it comes to the listeners’ proximity to power.

Because Jesus does not seem to be telling us the Kingdom of Heaven is like an unexpected delight. Jesus seems to be telling us that the Kingdom of Heaven is far bigger. Is truly surprising. Challenges every earthly system of power we have built for ourselves. And if we are in proximity to some of that power — as I most certainly am — the surprise might be downright shocking. And uncomfortable. And even scary. The Magnificat and beatitudes made real. The hungry fed, the powerful brought down from their thrones.

And while Jesus himself probably won’t physically pull us aside and explain these parables to us the way he did with those disciples long ago, the Holy Spirit sure will; moving through the work of scholars and activists and Christian witnesses, and wise friends, and those further from the centers of power we dare to listen to. So that we can begin to act in a way that a citizen of this coming reign would. It is the crowd – the ones who are able to hear – that the Holy Spirit works through. Sometimes we may the explainer. And sometimes (far more often for me) we may be the one explained to. But what I love is that we – the whole crowd — we do this parable work together; we have to. Over and over and over; explaining and being explained to. So that, someday, we all will all be “able to hear.” And we will all be ready to be surprised.

[i] Fortress Commentary on the Bible Study Edition: The Gospels and Acts, p 184-185.