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Sunday, July 26, 2026

The Parables of Jesus – Old Treasures and New (Matthew 13:31-33, 44-52)

    We’ve probably all heard the definition of a parable – that it’s “an earthly story with a heavenly meaning.” And it’s true enough. It’s a definition that works – mostly. Sorta’. But it’s thin. It’s an incomplete description of the form of teaching that Jesus used. The stories that he told, the parables of Jesus have endured. They’ve been told and retold. Adapted and readapted. Interpreted and reinterpreted for two thousand, some odd years now. These parables have power and resist the simple simplification.

    Jesus was deliberate in this. When the disciples asked him why he taught them with parables, he told them, “Because to you is granted to understand the mysteries of the kingdom of Heaven, but to them it is not granted. Anyone who has will be given more and will have more than enough; but anyone who has not will deprived even what he has. The reason I talk to them in parables is that they look without seeing, and listen without hearing or understanding. So in their case what was spoken by the prophet Isaiah is being fulfilled:

    Listen and listen, but never understand!
    Look and look, but never perceive!
    This people’s heart has grown coarse,
    their ears dulled, they have shut their eyes tight
    to avoid using their eyes to see, their ears to hear,
    their heart to understand,
    changing their ways and being healed by me.” 
    (Matthew 13:11-17 – New Jerusalem Bible)

    Last week our guest told us about the parable of the darnel, or the weeds. And she did a great job. Several of you told me how much you appreciated it. But she had it easy. She had one parable to talk about – and Jesus explained it for her. In our passage for today we’ve got what, six? Six parables to treat, and Jesus doesn’t really explain them – and the one he does explain, only gets more difficult with the explanation. So we’re going to have to be brisk as we move through these parables today.

    Mustard Seed (Matthew 13:31-32)

    Here Jesus exaggerates in two directions. 1) The mustard seed is not the smallest seed. It is small, yes, but there are technically smaller seeds and 2) the mustard plant, while it does grow tall – as much as ten feet tall, it’s not really the largest and birds don’t really nest in it. The story is an exaggeration to make us laugh. It’s an impossible fiction to teach us about the truly possible kingdom.

    I’ve know people who insist that the parables of Jesus are true. Absolutely true, not just figuratively true, that there was a specific, literal landowner whose enemy sowed his field with poisonous weeds, that there was a literal, historical prodigal son who wasted his portion of his father’s estate. They insist that the parables are not just stories. It’s all true because, if it’s not true historically how can it be true prophetically? They insist that there is no untruth in the Bible, that you can’t express truth with untruth. But these folks have radically misunderstood the genre of parable.

    These stories, yes. But not just stories. They are fictions, but they are not mere fictions; they are true. And the mustard seed isn’t the smallest and birds don’t nest in its branches – but the Kingdom of Heaven is like this – the smallest of seeds grows up and out, quickly sprouts, and transforms the world, bringing beauty, and color, and safety, and shelter. This is the Kingdom of Heaven.

    Yeast (Matthew 13:33)

    The Kingdom of Heaven is like the yeast that a woman mixes with two measures of flour till it is all risen. Some of you are bakers. You understand this picture. It doesn’t take much yeast to do the work.

    Now Jesus used yeast as an illustration a number of times – usually in a negative manner. “Beware the yeast of the Pharisees,” he told his disciples (Matt. 16 / Luke 12) But the yeast here is a blessing. It is the hidden, the small, spreading influence. It doesn’t take much.

    Treasure Field (Matthew 13:44)

    How did the treasure come to be in the field? Who did it belong to? We don’t have that information, but in another telling of this story, the hero would be a something of a villain, a cheat, a fraud, thief. His questionable actions to acquire the field with hidden treasure is more than a little shady.

    But the Kingdom of Heaven is here, nevertheless, hidden in a story about a treasure field. Someone finds it and is thrilled. Overjoyed at the discovery. Here is something that will radically change his life. Nothing will be the same after the discovery. He hides it again, goes back home, and with great joy, sells everything he owns so that he can possess this treasure field. The discovery changes everything.

    The Fine Pearl (Matthew 13:45)

    Here’s a similar story. We have a pearl merchant looking for fine pearls. In the previous story the discovery was accidental – the hero stumbled upon the hidden treasure. Here the search is deliberate. Purposeful. The merchant is crossing the globe, looking for fine pearls. He goes to the Persian Gulf. He goes to India, looking for the finest pearls. And when, at long last, he finds that one exquisite pearl, the pearl of great price, he sells all. He liquidates his holdings in order to purchase it. He sells everything to posses this one rare and beautiful thing.

    The Dragnet (Matthew 13:47-50)

    Again, the Kingdom of Heaven is like a dragnet thrown into the sea and hauled ashore – an image that his disciples would have appreciated. And when the net is brought out of the water, it is filled with all kinds of fish: Tilapia, Sardines, Saint Peter’s Fish, Eels, Catfish… And the fisherfolk begin sorting them, putting the good ones into baskets and throwing away the ones that are of no use.

    The fisherfolk sort them by the dietary laws laid out for them in Leviticus. Fish with scales and fins are acceptable to eat. Fish without scales and fins are not.

    Now one possible, simple explanation of the parable – one that might have occurred to his original audience is that this division is made along ethnic lines, separating Jews from Gentiles. Dividing them clean and unclean. The Jews at the clean thing – the Tilapia, the Sardine, the Saint Peter’s Fish - while the Gentiles ate the unclean – the Eel and the Catfish. But the fisherfolk in Jesus’ story are not sorting them clean and unclean but rather useful and not useful. Maybe that’s a distinction without a difference, but I think it works.

    And Jesus offers a bit of explanation – though the explanation introduces more questions. He says – this is how it will be at the end of the age. The angels will appear and separate the wicked from the righteous. And the wicked will be thrown into a blazing furnace where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.

    “Are you getting all this?” Jesus asked them. “Do you understand? Have you understood all of these?”

    And they said, “Yes.” But I wonder…

    Storeroom Treasures (Matthew 13:51-52)

    One more. Jesus tells them of a scribe who becomes a disciple of the Kingdom of Heaven. We are accustomed to thinking of the scribes and Pharisees as the bad guys, as antagonists of the gospel. But there we have a scribe who is an admirable disciple of the Kingdom of Heaven. A student. A scholar devoted to the teachings of heaven. And this scribal disciple is like a householder who goes into the storeroom or the pantry and brings out new and old treasures to enjoy. The old isn’t thrown out for the new. The two are brought out and shared and enjoyed.

    Are you getting all this? Do you understand? Have you understood all these?

    And this is where you say, “Yes…”

    So blessed are your eyes, because they see. Blessed are your ears because they hear. Many prophets and upright people longed to see and never saw, waited to hear, but never heard. (Matthew 13:16-17). Blessed are you for seeing and hearing and understanding.

    Or maybe you don’t understand. It’s okay. I get it – because I don’t get it. These stories are strange and beautiful and weird. They are not simple. But it’s okay. These parables have endured for two thousand, some odd years now. They’ll go on with or without us. Maybe you need to go home and struggle with one of them for a while. It’s okay. The story is there for you to puzzle over.

    Take the stories with you. Let the little seed sprout. Let the yeast rise. Look for treasure. Change everything. Be filled with joy. Spread color, and beauty, and shelter. Bring out the old treasures along with the new. This is the Kingdom of Heaven.

Wednesday, July 22, 2026

Folding Chairs and Fiery Thrones

    It was late January, on a gray and dying afternoon some years ago, when I found myself in front of the Ebenezer Baptist church building. I was tired and cold, looking for a place to warm up and rest my legs. I’m not sure what compelled me to try the door. I was surprised to find it unlocked.

    I went inside and called out, “Hello? Anyone here?”

    From somewhere in the back of the building, I heard a voice answer. “Back here. In the fellowship hall.” So, I followed the voice.

    In the fellowship hall I saw someone I assumed to be the janitor setting up rows of bright orange folding chairs. “I just came in to get warm,” I said. He nodded and placed another chair. From the kitchen, just off the fellowship hall, I could hear the gurgle of a coffee pot brewing.

    “What are you setting up for?”

    “It’s not for me to say, really. But you’re welcome to watch,” he said and then left the room.

    I found a spot along the back wall where I could stand, next to a bookshelf filled with hymnals and children’s books. I waited but nothing happened for several minutes. So I let myself into the kitchen, found a ceramic mug and poured myself a cup of coffee. Then I took my spot by the bookshelf to continue waiting.

    After a few more minutes the fluorescent lights overhead flickered and the coffee maker in the kitchen hissed. The door of the fellowship hall opened and the Senior Pastor entered. I knew it was the Senior Pastor because his framed photo was hanging on the wall next to the bookshelf. He had a dignified look – silver hair, manicured beard. He was dressed in a white seersucker suit. He sat down in one of the orange folding chairs at the front of the room. Then the doors opened again, and the church elders came in with folders, and papers, and clipboards, and notebooks. They assumed their seats and the church board meeting was called to order.

    I felt a hand on my shoulder and jumped. “Watch this,” said the janitor behind me. “You’ll like this.”

    From somewhere beyond the hall, I began to hear shouting. Curses. Vulgarities in a vaguely New York accent.

    “Old business,” one of the elders announced. “New business,” another said.

    “The same business,” the janitor whispered behind me.

    “I don’t know who you radical-left thugs are. Vermin. But you’re going to regret this. Nasty women. Losers. Scum. You’re animals. Animals. Animals!”

    The voice was dragged through the doors. and I saw his orange skin and flyaway hair. “Who is this?” I asked the janitor.

    “Oh, him? He’s nobody, really. Just one of a long line of monsters horning their way into history. They’re always turning up.”

    “What’s going to happen to him?” I asked.

    “Watch.”

    I turned back to the board meeting. The Senior Pastor said, “The mouth has spoken. Have his words been recorded?”

    “They have,” announced the body of elders.

    “So be it,” declared the Senior Pastor.

    “Amen,” intoned the body of elders.

    And just like that the orange-skinned vulgarian went up in flames.

    “What the hell is this?” I nearly shouted, turning back to the janitor.

    He led me over to a tripod stand with a series of Bible maps. “Look here,” he said and pulled down a map of Egypt. Then another of Babylon. And Persia. And Greece. And Rome. And. And. And. One map after another after another. “This is the way of beasts and empires. They receive a lease of life for a season and a time, but then…” And he tore away the successive maps and threw them to the floor.

    “Do you understand this?” he asked me.

    “I don’t think I do,” I said. “Not yet.”

    “Have you finished your coffee?” he asked. I nodded and he took the mug from my hands.

    I don’t remember leaving the fellowship hall, but I found myself once again standing in the sidewalk snow and slush in the fading January sun.


Tuesday, July 21, 2026

History Passes into Lies

    Then I beheld all the fruitless work of man. Armed conflict between thirty nations. Millions threatened. Mounting pressure from international leaders. And Pope John XXI dies when the ceiling of his study collapses. He’d been Pope for eight months. Affliction comes to make us sad or make us wise.

    Freedom is a heavy load, a choice through scorching days and restless cold nights. South American strip mines and deserts are rocked by earthquakes, meanwhile Pope Adrian IV chokes to death on a fly in his wine. This is the curse that feeds on life.

    History is recorded by impatient observers. Pomp and circumstance in the land of hope and glory. Fading ancient fame. Pope Celestine V, overwhelmed by the pressure and demands of the papacy, renounces the throne and returns to the hermitage. He is later imprisoned by his successor and all men shall fear.

    How wretched I am,
    too long living among a people for war.

    Lies pass into history. Critical food shortages on three continents in a season of bitterness. Supply lines strained by militants. Pope Sylvester II makes a compact with the devil for redoubtable scientific and mathematical knowledge. History passes into lies.

    Therefore, behold, Pope Boniface VIII is belligerent. He kicks political envoys in the head. He throws ashes in the eyes of kneeling bishops. He is captured during the violence of the Outrage of Anagni and imprisoned for three days. He is beaten. He is starved. He dies, chewing off his own hand. A marvelous work among the people, and a wonder to the world.

    Work while it is day; the night comes when no one will work. Regional salt wars are fought by child-soldiers and immigrants. Pope Joan’s horse is startled during a procession and she goes into spontaneous labor. The child is born. Her secret is revealed but she dies. And there is none that can deliver me.

    Lord, save me from lying lips
    war-arrows over red-hot coals.

    Yea, before the day, Pope Formosus is exhumed by his successor nine months after his death and put on trial for perjury, for having taken the papacy illegally. His corpse is dragged to the courtroom and found guilty before being reinterred. His papacy is annulled. May the truth protect me always.


A Medical Emergency Special Report

     This is a Channel $4 live action special news break. We go live to Chip Rofloxacin.

    “We are receiving reports this evening that County General Hospital is being overwhelmed by a medical crisis. Double-vision doctors and night-shift nurses, already short-staffed due to Medicare cutbacks are struggling to manage a surge of hundreds of inconvenient emergencies.”

    “One doctor, who declined to be identified, told us of multiple cases of explosive diarrhea caused by disingenuous political adverts. It’s a clear case of Misinformational Infection. The worst I’ve seen in twenty years of practice.”

    Other reported outbreaks include:

    Vertigo Campaign Imbalance

    Pundit-Induced Renal Failure – symptoms include: fatigue, shortness of breath, and an inability to think for oneself.

    Judicial Spinal Constriction – appointed for life.

    Family Values Thorax Collapse – accompanied by extreme flatulence.

    Chronic Scatmouth - a persistent inability to stop talking shit. Highly contagious.

    and Acute Principle Paralysis – which requires a complete quarantine of anyone over the age of twelve. Individuals in office over the age of sixty-five seem especially susceptible, with secondary symptoms including: Senatorial Fever and Congressional Malaise.

    “The part-time director of the CDC insists there is no need to panic and certainly no cause for government intervention. The infection is easily contained with the dispensation of dubious drugs. If you believe you or someone you know may be at risk, seek advice from a trusted wellness celebrity.”

Sunday, July 19, 2026

A Word from Our Sponsors

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    “And we’re back,” more breathless than before. “’Blessed are the peacemakers’ you’ve heard them, the elitist, the Marxist, pretending she cares about the word. But there is no one who can make peace but Christ. There is no peace except in Christ. More after this…”

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    “You can’t be too philosophical about it – we’re living at the edge of the next great extinction event. Say goodbye to the hummingbirds; we’re all going to die. And that’s our show. Tune in tomorrow.”


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