Holy weeds

Mark 4:26-34

Everything I know about mustard I learned from biblical commentaries.

Well, almost.

I know that people put it on hot dogs and hamburgers, and that’s not mentioned in the commentaries.

But since Jesus’ story about the mustard seed comes up in three of the four gospels – and every summer in our lectionary – there’s a LOT of ink spilled about biblical mustard.

It’s a tiny seed – if it’s not the smallest seed (according to the internet, at least some varieties of orchid seeds are smaller) – and it grows into a substantial plant – whether it’s a shrub or a tree is a matter of heated religious debate. 

That by itself would make Jesus’ point about great things coming from tiny sources.  But there’s one other thing about mustard that I’ve learned from biblical commentators that’s the real zinger about the comparison to the kingdom of God.

It’s a weed.

It seems that when Jesus was talking about mustard, he expected his hearers to be thinking about the sort of plant that no one would actually plant in their garden because it would take it over, like mint or kudzu.  And be just as hard to get rid of, once it’s in.

The kingdom of God is like a weed.

From a tiny, unnoticeable seed grows a plant that nobody invited or wanted, impossible to get rid of – and that provides shelter for the birds (and a somewhat spicy food).

It’s true that the kingdom of God is like a weed sometimes. 

The Jesus movement two thousand years ago massively upset the normal, appropriate, expected patterns of religious life. 

The notion of freedom of religion that was planted in the United States is wonderfully messy and regularly dangerous to our comfort these two centuries later. 

A faithful commitment to the dignity of every human being disrupts travel, economies, custom and comfort in every stage of the blossoming of civil and human rights around the world.

We don’t grow weeds on purpose, and we don’t build the kingdom of God to our plans.  The seeds fall.  God provides the resources – earth, sun and rain, or people and ideas.  The plant or the kingdom grows, and what Jesus says is that it’s up to us to respond.

To make nests in the shade, or to rejoice in the harvest.

There are seeds all over our lives.  A smile, a word, an idea – a tiny gift of time, attention, cash or goodies.  Seeds that grow in spite of us, and blossom into the unexpected – sometimes inconvenient, but ultimately wonderful – kingdom of God.

And because the kingdom of God is a weed, there’s no way it fits in a regular sermon from the pulpit. 
It doesn’t happen here – it happens out there.  In your lives, and all over the world outside of church.

So the rest of the sermon is up to you.

Think, right now, about some small thing – a smile, a question, a mistake or a chance encounter that has grown beyond your expectation.  A marriage? a friendship? A kind of service, or a part of your faith?

Or a big result that you can’t track back to any single seed.

Go ahead, think about it.  In church, we shared those growth stories out loud.  You can share yours - it's just like a gardening story, after all!

That’s the gospel, the good news, the kingdom of God, growing among us,

like mustard.

Of course, all of us also have seeds we’ve planted in hope – kind words, little gifts given – that haven’t borne fruit yet, perhaps for years. Those tiny seeds of the kingdom are in the hands of God, and we don’t know how they grow – so those are our prayers.

In a few minutes, when we pray, put those seeds in the hands of God, with a word or a name for each. 

And this week, this summer season of growth,

keep your eyes open for mustard,

for the kingdom of God, growing unexpected and uninvited, to nourish and shelter God’s creatures, and you and me.