SERMON 22 August 2004     Evening Prayer

 Readings:      Jeremiah 1: 11-19        Psalm 103: 1-8        Luke 13: 18-30 

May the presence of God illumine our lives and our understanding.  

Tonight’s reading from the Gospel of Luke presents us with a number of images relating to the kingdom of God. These images do not, however, form an integrated whole, allowing us to get a clear picture of what Jesus might mean when he talks about the kingdom of God. Rather, they offer a kaleidoscope of insight and comment which challenges us with ideas that seem, like wet fish, to slide out of our grasp the moment we think we have caught them. In this mix of images we have hints of the kingdom of God, the realm of the divine, as something both in the present and at the end of time, something which is tangible and intangible, something which is both corporate and individual.  

Let’s take a closer look at the text. As we explore this passage from Luke’s Gospel, it is as well to be aware that the translation ‘kingdom of God’ already sets up in our minds certain expectations about what it might mean. The word ‘kingdom’ immediately brings with it a set of fixed images from our own ideas about the nature of kingdoms which may or may not be helpful. In order to avoid some of the traps of thinking too rigidly it is a good idea to play with alternate translations – translations which are just as faithful to the original Greek and which help our minds break free of too narrow a view. The phrase ‘kingdom of God’ is used to translate the Greek ‘basileia tou theou’. It can also be translated as ‘the realm of God’, ‘the rule of God’ or, stretching things a little ‘the realm of the divine’ or ‘divine rule’. 

The first set of images is presented in two short parables and concerns the nature of the kingdom of God, of the realm of the divine. What is it like? It is, we are told, like yeast mixed with flour and it is like a mustard seed which starts small but ends up as a large plant wherein birds can nest.  

The mustard plant is an annual which grows quickly and powerfully to maturity. Black mustard grows to a height of 2-3 metres, while the white variety matures at 1 m or less. Its seed has been used since the earliest recorded history, both medicinally and as a culinary herb. Presumably the Jews did not use it on their ham sandwiches, but it was widely used throughout the ancient world. It has even taken its place in military posturing between great nations: in 334 BC Darius III of Persia sent Alexander the Great a bag of sesame seeds, symbolising the vast numbers of his army. Alexander immediately upped the ante, sending back a bag of mustard seeds, to signal not only the number, but the power and energy of his men.  

This theme of power and growth is also inherent in the image of yeast mixed with flour. Given the right conditions, some warmth and a little time, a small amount of yeast can leaven a large amount of flour, transforming it completely.  

The kingdom of God, the realm of the divine, these images seem to say, has transforming energy far beyond its appearance. The experience is one of empowerment and transformation. These images seem to speak of the kingdom of God as a present reality, they explain what it is to be in the presence of God, to dwell in Christ.  

The next part of the reading heads off in another direction altogether, presenting a second set of images which speak of entry into the kingdom.  The passage links the concept of entry to the kingdom with being saved and Jesus seems, at least initially, to be saying that not many will be saved, not many will enter the kingdom. The language used is strong and Jesus demolishes any idea that simple acquaintance with him or with his teaching might guarantee someone a place in the kingdom.  

It is not enough to have shared a meal with Jesus, or to have heard his teaching. Something more is required – but what? The clue is in Jesus’ response: ‘go away from me, all you evildoers!’ If, despite hearing Jesus’ teaching and sharing food and drink with him, people still do evil, then he will not welcome them. This warning follows directly on from the emphasis earlier in chapter 13, in the passage immediately preceding tonight’s text, where Jesus pushes the message of personal repentance, saying ‘unless you repent, you will all perish’.  

Nor will being Jewish be enough to guarantee salvation. Don’t think, Jesus’ audience is told, that because you are of the house of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, that you have automatic entry – no, others will have precedence, indeed despised foreigners will have precedence over you. 

Towards the end of this section it becomes clear that the message is not about the numbers who will enter the kingdom but rather about the entrance requirements. It’s not about being one of God’s chosen race, as the Jews believed themselves to be, it is about individual response to God.

 ‘The people will come from east and west, from north and south, and will eat in the kingdom of God. Indeed some are last who will be first, and some are first who will be last.’  

The images in this passage seem to support a sense of the kingdom of God as a physical place – like a house with a door – a place where you can look in and see others, while you languish in misery outside. It also seems to have a temporal dimension, evoking a future in which we are either in or out. 

But this set of images does not sit at all well with the first set, where the realm of the divine seems to be much more about a present experience of the rule of God at a personal level. Nor does it sit well with the various statements that Jesus makes referring to his own presence as the kingdom of heaven drawing near. The Pauline letters also make it clear that Christian community is intended to be in some way an exemplar of the realm of the divine. We, as the body of Christ, are God’s presence in the world. 

So, are you confused? I think we can legitimately ask whether Luke was terminally confused? Or, perhaps, was Jesus using language without the precision that our scientifically trained 21st century minds would like him to have had? Rather than attempting a narrow definition of the kingdom which could be squeezed dry, perhaps Jesus is offering signposts, markers towards a concept that can only be fully apprehended through experience, open mindedness and openheartedness.  

However we deal intellectually and emotionally with the diverse witness of the Scriptures, of which this is just one small example, this passage from Luke highlights the folly of attempting to hang deep theological points on a short extract from Scripture.  

When in frivolous mode, I am wont to say that for every Scriptural text there is an equal and opposite Scriptural text. While that is not literally the case, there is enough truth in it for us to be wary about pinning too much on little bits of text. To treat the Bible as if it is an internally consistent uniform text, intended to be read literally, like an instruction manual or a recipe, is a terrible mistake.  

It is with a heavy heart, therefore, that I read some of the arguments that are currently shaping up within the Anglican Church of Australia on the major issues that will come forward to our national General Synod in October: lay presidency, female bishops and the role of openly homosexual people within the life of the church. Yet again, I fear, Scripture will be used to promote or defend particular points of view and to ‘shed divine light’ on situations which could not have been further from the minds of those who were first inspired to put quill to vellum (or whatever it was that they used).  

It is my hope and my prayer that we might use the Scriptures with understanding, that we might delight in all that they can teach us, that we might resist the temptation to read into them our own desires and that they might truly illumine our paths as we seek the presence of the divine, the kingdom of God. Amen.

Sarah Macneil