24^th June 2009

Sunday 14 June 2009 Rev Dr Max Champion at St John's UCA Mt Waverley

Lessons -  Psalm 46; 2 Corinthians 5:6-10; Mark 4:26-34

People thought that they understood Jesus' parables because he drew on experiences from daily life, but they ended up scratching their heads at an unexpected twist. His parables were interesting, but unsettling - their meaning by no means obvious or easy to grasp. Because they hid the truth as much as revealing it (vv33,34), they invite the listeners to a thoughtful, less superficial, understanding of the Kingdom of God.

This is clear in these two short parables.  Jesus draws on common knowledge of farming and horticulture to challenge conventional wisdom about the much anticipated 'Kingdom of God': God's good and gracious reign already present in the strife-torn world and expected in the future glorious fulfilment of history when God's faithful suffering people would be rewarded and God would be worshipped by all nations.

* The first parable (vv26-29) makes the point that the crop grows without any help from the farmer. He simply spreads the grain and harvests the crop. Otherwise - surprisingly - he's inactive. There is no mention of what he must do to plough, cultivate and protect the crop. Such details would have been relevant if, as Jesus' audience expected, he had wanted to stress what we must do to further the Kingdom.

Instead, he highlights the laid-back approach of the farmer. He awaits the harvest without fuss or anxiety, simply content to 'sleep and wake' while the crop reaches maturity in its own time. There is a complete absence of feverish activity and a calm, confident waiting for the harvest. He takes one day at a time.

Why is the emphasis on the farmer's inactivity?

Remember that Jesus is speaking to people who had experienced centuries of suffering and despair. At great cost and over many centuries, righteous, courageous and faithful people had worked hard to defend Israel, teach God's righteousness to their children in hostile societies and prepare themselves for the Messiah's coming to bring the Kingdom of God when evil would be judged and suffering ended.

Among them were political activists (Zealots) engaged in guerrilla warfare against the Romans, and religious teachers (Pharisees) committed to seeing that the law was obeyed in every area of life. Others had become discouraged by the futility of their actions and lost hope. All put great store on doing (or wanting to do) something to help bring in the Kingdom of God. They were shocked to hear that it didn't depend on them. The coming of God's future Kingdom when human dignity will be honoured, evil judged and sins forgiven, is entirely a matter of God's grace and timing! 

* This point is sharpened in the second parable (vv30-32) which doesn't even mention a gardener. We are simply told that the 'grain of mustard seed is sown in the ground' and 'grows up and becomes the greatest of all shrubs'. That is how it is, says Jesus, with the Kingdom of God.  It does not come to fruition by human activity but by the hidden work of God.

In both parables the contrast between the beginning and end is crucial to their meaning. What God is doing in the world may seem miniscule - like a tiny grain or seed - but the final result will be impressive - like a bountiful harvest or a magnificent tree. These images convey a sense of hope. It is God's will, says Jesus, that all nations shall be gathered (as the harvest is reaped) and that all shall find refuge and peace (like the birds) in the branches of God's love.

What follows from the realisation that God brings the Kingdom in his own way and time is that the Church mustn't be impatient (like Zealots), self-righteous (like Pharisees) or despondent, but live a carefree life like the 'inactive' laid-back farmer, who typifies a life lived in the knowledge that we are justified by grace through faith, and this is not our own doing, it is the work of God.

These two short parables of hope destroy our illusions. The success of God's Kingdom doesn't depend on us! Though they have often been interpreted as pledges that our 'enthusiasm for the Lord' will be rewarded with numerical revival, they actually invite us to live with a freedom to do what is necessary but not be concerned about 'results'.

In them, Jesus challenges our impatience and arrogance (when we think that the future depends on us) and encourages us (when we despair at the apparent futility of life and faith). He assures us that the Kingdom of God present in him shall surely come in all its fullness, but not as a result of our efforts. That is why Jeremias calls them parables of 'the Great Assurance'.  (J Jeremias, Rediscovering the Parables of Jesus, 1963, pp116f.)

Last century there was hope that such a future would come soon. In 1900 John Mott of the London Missionary Society confidently looked forward to 'the evangelisation of the world in our generation'. This seemed to be confirmed in the 1950s when Churches and Sunday Schools were full and deputations by overseas missionaries (to non-Western countries) were common. Many thought that, from such tiny beginnings and our faith, the crop was almost ready to be harvested, the tree almost fully grown!

Since then, however, so many crops have been wrecked, so many trees withered. In fact, two thousand years on we are apt to be cynical about hope. We've lived through the most barbaric period of history and seen unimaginable assaults on human dignity. The twenty-first century, too, is wracked by radical religious conflicts, grotesque poverty, further development of nuclear weapons, sexual confusion, family breakdown, millions of refugees fleeing terror and seeking asylum.

The Church in the West, once the source of missionary activity, is collapsing under the weight of unbelief, lack of nerve and loss of hope. Seeds planted by preachers and congregations seem to bear little fruit. Around us are the fungal effects of kingdoms which eat away the healthy crops and sturdy trees of the Kingdom of God.

Where then are there grounds for hope? If not in our own goodness, piety, reason or courage, then where can we find hope?  It is found in what to the world seems very small indeed: the 'God of Jacob' and 'the person of Jesus Christ'.  Think about the smallness of it all. A few oppressed slaves escape from Egypt; they wander in a godforsaken wilderness; they are exiled and persecuted. Many times only a small remnant survives to keep hope flickering. And, to top it all off, their Messiah is a crucified man born to insignificant parents in an outpost of civilisation.

In this history, hope for the nations is found in the God who, being righteous and merciful, seeks out his wayward children to reconcile them all to himself! Hope is given by the completely self-giving God who, in the Person of Jesus Christ, enters into the suffering and rejection of Israel and the nations to judge evil, forgive sins and renew the world.

Many think it is too narrow to confine God to a tiny, insignificant community (Jews and Christians) and a particular historical person (Jesus). But what if - as these parables say - hope for the nations is to be discovered in the God whose grace-filled righteousness is present in the world in the history of a tiny group of Hebrews and the insignificant events surrounding a crucified man in a small corner of the Roman Empire at a particular time in history?

We won't see this if we are closed to Jesus' invitation to hope: to see the magnificence of the Kingdom of God in these small and hidden events. Like the tiny seeds, the Kingdom is small and imperceptible in the world - hardly visible without careful looking. Yet, just as a bountiful harvest (eventually) is produced and a large tree (finally) reaches its height, so the Kingdom of God shall become a glorious reality. The gracious presence of God which is hardly noticeable now shall be unveiled so that all nations shall see the reality of God.

This truly is a word of hope! In these parables, Jesus points us to the reality of God who exposes our arrogance, impatience and despondency and invites us to 'be not anxious' about living in the world even when God seems hidden.

We don't particularly like this word. We measure our own (and others') worth by our achievements and busyness.  We like to imagine that we make the future.  We are impatient with waiting. We want to see immediate results for our efforts (in church and community). We enjoy wallowing in self-pity.  

But we should welcome this word! For like the inactive farmer, we are to be people of hope who wait for the coming Kingdom with quiet confidence. Such 'inactivity' is not to be mistaken for being lazy, careless or thoughtless. It is really an 'activity' of heart, mind and will concentrated on the worship and service of God and our neighbour without being distracted by anxiety about our success or failure.

This isn't easy, especially when the Christian life is tough and we are tempted to despair or  resignation! We must allow ourselves to be taught to focus on God's gracious providence, supremely displayed in the crucified and risen Jesus, so that our plans and commitments are brought into relationship with God's present and eternal purpose embodied in him.   By being 'inactive' in this sense we shall be enabled to live with a 'carefree freedom' which delights to 'actively' worship and serve God and our neighbours in this generation.

May these parables of Jesus become for us in the Church and for our strife-torn world a necessary source of hope when conflicts rage, faith is hard and crops are shrivelling and trees wilting in so many places.

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Rev Dr Max Champion is minister in the St John's Uniting Church, Mt Waverley, Victoria, Australia. Dr Champion is Chairman of the Assembly of Confessing Congregations within the UCA.