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.

Truth with Untruth: A Ninth Imaginary Conversation with a Real Troll

    Breaking the formula and the norm, I received an email from my troll, Gunner, today. Usually he comes by my place, pulling up in his noisy pickup truck, or he finds me out and about town as I ‘m buying groceries or running errands. But today he sent me an email instead of his usual routine.

    To: *******carter@hotmail.com
    From: Gunandrun***@gmail.com

    Re: Myths and Legends

    Jeff – I know I was just at your place the other day and I don’t try to bother you too often at home, but I had to reach out to you today. Something you said in our last discussion You told me that you understand the creation stories of the Bible to be more myth than history. I believe your exact words were “sacred story, not a scientific document.” And, honestly, I wouldn’t have expected anything other from you, liberal as you are. I’m not even sure why you say your a Christian, really.

    But if your going to say your a Christian you should do it right. If your going to say your a Christian you have to accept the Bible as our sure word of prophecy. Wholly. Completely. It’s truth from cover to cover. Not myth. Not fable. Not fairy tale. Not Legend. Not tall tale. But truth. Pure upright truth. There is no fiction in the Bible.

    Gunner

    I replied. Succinctly.

    To:Gunandrun***@gmail.com
    From: *******carter@hotmail.com

    Re: Re: Myths and Legends

    Gunner.

    Come on, man. The Bible frequently uses fiction to teach truth.

    j.c.

    The conversation continued over the next couple of hours via email.

    To: *******carter@hotmail.com
    From: Gunandrun***@gmail.com

    Re: Re: Re: Myths and Legends

    Never. Not once.

    Gunner.

    To:Gunandrun***@gmail.com
    From: *******carter@hotmail.com

    Re: Re: Re: Re: Myths and Legends

    Setting aside the creation stories (plural, btw) and the other obvious fictions like Jonah, the prophet Nathan used a fiction to teach King David the truth. And Jesus taught with parables. Mark explicitly says that he did not say anything to them without using a parable.

    j.c.

    To: *******carter@hotmail.com
    From: Gunandrun***@gmail.com

    Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Myths and Legend

    But parables are not just stories. They were true stories about real, historical people that Jesus knew. Its all true. It’s all real. If its not true historically how could it be true prophetically?

    There is no untruth in the Bible, Jeff. You can’t express truth with untruth. We don’t follow cunningly devised fables. God is not a man that he should lie. This is what concerns me most about you. You dismiss the Bible as a mere story book.

    Gunner.

    To:Gunandrun***@gmail.com
    From: *******carter@hotmail.com

    Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Myths and Legends

    You’re putting words in my mouth again, Gunner. I don’t dismiss it. I accept it for what it is. And I never used the word “mere.” It is profound and has shaped my life since I was young.

    You’ve simply misunderstood the genre of Parable as used in the Ancient Near East.

    j.c.

    To: *******carter@hotmail.com
    From: Gunandrun***@gmail.com

    Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Myths and Legend

    Jeff. Your either a liar or a fool. Or both. The Bible is DIVINELY inspired. 40 authors over 1,500 years with one true voice. It is TRUTH. Get it right and get saved.

    Gunner.

    I might have responded again, but I had to make dinner.

An Imaginary Conversation with a Real Troll (the first of the series) 
I Will Not Fight the Argument (the second)
Supermarket Wrestling (third conversation)
Do You Even Pray (the troll returns)
All Means All (A fifth conversation)
The Doctrine that Cannot Be Challenged (sixth conversation)
Toward Sodom - (a halfhearted seventh conversation)
Millions of Years of Death (the eighth conversation)

No Eschatological Expectations for the Ten Virgins (Matthew 25: 1 – 13)

    The End Is Near.

    That’s an exciting way to begin a sermon. I use it somewhat tongue in check, not to indicate the imminence of Jesus’ return or the end of the world – though with the gospel reading for today, it would be understandable if you leapt to that conclusion. But the end is near – the end of the liturgical year. We are coming to the end of the church’s calendar and we will soon, with the beginning of the Advent season, begin a new year. But now, in these last few weeks before advent, the lectionary readings take a turn toward the eschatological – things related to death, judgement and the end.

    I grew up in an Evangelical church, and for many evangelical Christians in America there is a peculiar fascination with all things eschatological. I grew up with those heightened apocalyptic expectations. I vividly recall being at the church building with my parents and not knowing where they were and being scared that I had missed the rapture – at least until I heard their voices again. I still remember dreams that I had as a young boy of volcanoes and blood falling from the sky, dreams that could rival the visions of John recorded in the book of Revelation.

    As a young minister, I spent a lot of time studying the prophetic and apocalyptic books of the bible, reading commentaries on, watching documentaries on the various interpretations, and going conferences on the topic. I even spoke at a couple of conferences dealing the study of eschatology. I was fascinated with the subject. 

    But these days I’m less interested in apocalyptic speculation. Less interested, but not disinterested., I still am. The novels that I’ve written, especially my first, have a decided influence from the apocalyptic genre. My interest has waned but not disappeared completely. Meanwhile, the Christian community these days, at least in America, is fired up on the topic again. It seems to flare up with regularity every time there is renewed conflict in the Middle East. I see many of my friends on Facebook and X (formerly Twitter) posting memes and messages about the soon expected coming of Jesus. When I listen to Christian radio, I hear them talking about the thrill of “living in these last days…” And, honesty, I find a lot of what they are saying and posting to be a little disturbing. I’m not sure I trust people whose religious faith is excited by the imminent expectation of the end of the world.

    So I come to this parable of Jesus with mixed feelings. I like the topic and still find it fascinating. But I also find it wearisome.  Tiring and thrilling at the same time.  I’m difficult. I know.

    “The Kingdom of Heaven will be like this: Ten wedding attendants took their lamps and went to meet the bridegroom and the bride.” This is how Jesus’ parable recorded in Matthew 25: 1 – 13 begins. And already we have some difficulties to examine. The first thing we should note is that most English translations stop with “the bridegroom.” A few include a footnote to indicate that “other ancient authorities add and the bride.” The bride is missing from some manuscripts, “probably because the ‘bridegroom’ was understood as an allegorical reference to Christ, and the copyist could see no way of fitting the bride into the allegory (Johnson 556).”

    First – this is a parable and not an allegory. Allegories need a specific referent. The novel Animal Farm by George Orwell is an allegory about the Russian Revolution of 1917. John Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress is an allegory of the spiritual life from baptism through trials to heaven. Allegories need a specific referent. Parables do not. Parables don’t need a point by point comparison, this equals that, in order to be understood. They are simple stories that point beyond themselves to greater truths.

    But the Church got stuck reading this particular parable as an allegory of Jesus as the Bridegroom and the sudden appearance of the bridegroom at midnight as the Parousia - the expected second coming of Christ, and eventually ‘the bride’ dropped out of the parable. For how could Jesus, the bridegroom, come with his bride, the church, at his second coming?

    The allegorical interpretation was fleshed out, point by point, to make the foolish Virgins, or maidens a reference to Israel and the wise Virgins, or maidens to Gentile believers – further exacerbating the tensions between Jews and Christians over the years. (Jeremias 51 - 53) Interpreted thusly, the parable is used to encourage believers to not fall asleep – like the Jews, or other non-believers, so that we can be ready when Christ appears to receive his bride at the rapture or the second coming. (Never mind the fact that the story clearly says that all ten of the waiting virgins, both the foolish and the wise) fell asleep as they waited…)

    Maybe the confusion is to be expected. After all Jesus said that he taught the people with parables so that they would not understand. His disciples asked why he taught the people using parables and Jesus said, “The reason I talk to them in parables sis that they look without seeing and listen with 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…” Matthew 13: 10 - 15

    But all of this is going astray. If we keep in mind that it’s a parable – and not an allegory – and that in the story the bridegroom is coming with his bride we can read it as an occasion of joy and festivities with shouts of rejoicing and mirth and the voices of the bridegroom and the bride proceeding through the city. (Jeremiah 7:34). It is an elaborate procession with the bridegroom and bride decked out as the King and Queen, carried on a palanquin of wood from Lebanon, with posts of silver and a canopy of gold. They are surrounded by their friends and families dressed as champions and swordsmen (Song of Solomon 3: 7-11)

    Ten wedding attendants went out to wait for the procession, but the wedding party was delayed and the attendants fell asleep. But at midnight, the cry went up. “Look! The bridegroom! Go and meet him!”

    The attendants snapped awake and readied themselves to go join the festivities. But five of them had come unprepared, with no extra oil. Their smoking, sputtering, smoldering wicks would not light. “Share some of your oil with us,” the foolish ones said to the others who’d wisely brought extra oil. But they replied, “There might not be enough for all of us. Run quickly to the oil merchant (the oil merchant is open at midnight?!) and buy some.

    And while they were off buying more oil, the wedding party arrived and everyone went into the house for the feast. When the foolish attendants returned, with their lamps burning brightly now, they begged for the door to be opened so that they could join the party. But the bridegroom said to them. “I don’t know you,” and the door stayed closed.

    There’s no need for fearful apocalyptic, eschatological expectations here. And definitely no need to slur and vilify people of the Jewish faith. The Kingdom of God is like this: those who are ready and prepared will enter and be welcomed to the party. Those who are not ready and prepared will remain unknown and outside the door.

    Some might have difficulty with the seeming finality of that that “I do not know you.” But another teaching of Jesus recorded in the gospel of Matthew ends the same way. In chapter 7 Jesus told his disciples, “It is not anyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord’ who will enter the Kingdom of Heaven, but the person who does the will of my Father in heaven. When the day comes many will say to me, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophecy in your name, drive out demons in your name, work many miracles in your name?’ Then I shall tell them to their faces: I have never known you.” (Matthew 7: 21 – 23)

    Many who think they belong, who are prophesying in his name, who are driving out demons, who are preaching sermons, who are waiting for the coming of Christ will find that they have missed the boat because they haven't been doing the will of the father. 

    A few days ago – November 7^th- would have been the birthday of the French existentialist philosopher, journalist, and author, Albert Camus. In a quote that is attributed to him (but for which I cannot find the source) he said, “You will never be happy if you continue to search for what happiness consists of. You will never live if you are looking for the meaning of life.”  We won’t know the kingdom of God if we’re sitting around waiting for the kingdom of God. To know (and be known in) the kingdom of God is to hear the message of Christ and act on it. Do the will of God. Do the work of the Kingdom. Feed the hungry. Give drink to the thirsty. Welcome the stranger. Clothe the naked. Visit the sick and the imprisoned. (Matthew 25: 31 – 46)

    The Kingdom of Heaven is like this: Some of those who are waiting to see it will miss it because they are not ready to see it. Listening and listening, they will not hear it. Looking and looking they will not see it. And when the cry goes up, they won’t get in the door because they haven’t understood. So watch and be ready. Do the will of the father.

 

 

 

 

Jeremias, Joachim. The Parables of Jesus. New York, NY: Charles Scribner’s Sons. 1972. Print.

Johnson, Sherman E. “The Gospel According to St. Matthew: Exegesis.” The Interpreter’s Bible Volume VII. Nashville, TN: Abingdon Press. 1951. Print.

 

 

 

Burn It Down

    Jesus and his companions watched the news with horror – the rioting, the buildings on fire, people shouting in the streets, broken glass, shattered skulls, horse mounted police trampling protesters carrying nothing more dangerous than cardboard signs, riot squad officers firing pepper balls at reporters and cameramen, firing tear gas and flash grenades into the crowds to provoke them to violence.

    “Jesus,” said Matthew. “I’m so sick of the division and the strife. Can’t people just get along?”

    Jesus turned off the television and scolded them, “You think I’ve come to bring peace? Do you think that’s why I’m here? Shit no. I came to start a fire, and I wish to God it were already burning.”

    “Burn it down!” whispered Andrew beneath the keffiyeh he already had wrapped around his face, and shook his tightly clenched fist in the air.

    “But,” Matthew objected. “Destruction of property isn’t a valid form of protest.” 

    Jesus laughed. “Just wait a few chapters.” He laughed again.

     “It’s going to be divided houses from here on out – three against two, two on three. This is the uprising, the struggle, the intifada. It’s the end of traumatized truth and tortured dreams, but the end falls hard. Fathers and mothers against their children. Children against their parents. The world upside down until all is made right. Till one can walk on through without feeling like they’re in hell anymore. The roof is on fire, but we don’t need no water. Let the motherfucker burn.”

Who Will Protect You, Jesus?

The last time I saw Jesus he was in Dallas, Texas. He was sitting in the shade of a tree on the grassy knoll in Dealey Plaza. He was attempting to enjoy a quiet lunch break, but this guy I know from work, JD, was pestering him with questions.

“So, Jesus, tell me. You’re a smart guy. Tell me – if we defund the military, who would protect you?”

“You’re kidding, right?” Jesus asked, subtly exposing the scars on his wrists. I don’t think JD noticed.

“No. I’m not kidding; I’m serious. If we defund the military, who would protect you and all your freedoms?”

“Listen, I’m just trying to have some lunch here…”

JD grinned. “So you can’t answer my question, can you?”

Jesus sighed and set down his bagel and cream cheese. “See the grass and trees and flowers here,” he said as he motioned with his hands at the nearby flora. “Where are their guns? Where are their tanks and missiles, and battleships? Where are their warships?” JD sputtered, but Jesus continued. “And still your heavenly father protects and provides for them. Why are you so anxious about your freedoms?”

JD waited for Jesus to say more, but there was nothing more. Jesus picked up his bagel and took another bite. Seeing that Jesus wasn’t going to say any more, JD said, “So you don’t have an answer to my question…”

Now, this whole time JD was fingering something in his front pants pocket. I thought it was just a bit obscene, but I didn’t want to say anything or to interrupt their conversation. Jesus, however, appeared unperturbed. He’d almost, but not quite, finished the bite of bagel in his mouth when he spoke again. “What’s that you’re worrying in your pocket?” It was then that JD removed the object and exposed it to us. It was a dark, coin shaped token. “May I see it?” Jesus asked.

JD flicked it to him and Jesus caught it mid-air. He examined the obverse and then the reverse. Then he held it up for us to see.  The token had been engraved with the mortar, snake, sword, musket, and Phyrgian cap of the U.S. War office’s seal. But JD had nearly worn the engraving away with his constant attention to it.

Jesus flicked it back to him. “Thank you for your service,” JD said as he caught it. “uh… I mean…”

Jesus said, “You can keep it if you want, but that fetish has no power.”

The American Evanjuggalo Meets with Jesus

An American Evanjuggalo*, who was something of an internet troll with gadfly pretentions, came up to Jesus and said, “Good teacher…”

“Why do you call me good?” Jesus interrupted him.

“Because you…”

“No really; don’t even talk to me,” Jesus cut him off. “Come back when you learn what goodness is.”

*Evanjuggalo – a portmanteau of my own creation (as far as I can tell), combining something of the American Evangelical facade, and the violent, trash-mouthed fans of the Insane Clown Posse (ICP) known as Juggalos. An October 2010 article in The Guardian characterized the Insane Clown Posse as "evangelical Christians" who have "only been pretending to be brutal and sadistic to trick their fans into believing in God." Evanjuggalos would be the reverse – pretending to be Christians in order to hide their brutal and sadistic selves.

The People of Babylon (If You Know What I Mean)

The people of Babylon (if you know what I mean) were gathered for the spectacle at the Duraplain stadium; it was a beautiful day, without a cloud in the sky.  Beer and popcorn venders roamed the crowds, going up and down upon the aisles to hawk their wares. The announcer addressed the crowd through the PA system, “Welcome loyal fans, and please greet with me the Babylon High School Marching Band and Honor Choir. When you hear the sound of the trumpet, and drums, and sackbut, and zither, and bagpipe, and all the musical ensemble with the choir, stand to your feet, remove your turbans and salute the symbol that your great leader has set before you.”

And when the band began to play the familiar dotted-eighth note, sixteenth note followed by three quarter notes and a half note melody of the hymn To Anacreon in Heaven, all the assembled people of Babylon (if you know what I mean) stood as one, doffed their turbans, and saluted the object of their religious worship. 

And when the final swelling tones of the hymn echoed into the distance, everyone replaced their turbans and solemnly uttered the ritual prayer, “Thank you for your service.”

Everyone but one. 

One jerk. One freak refused to stand, or to salute. This one piece of human trash refused to sing the anthem or to say the prayer. The people of Babylon (if you know what I mean) standing near him began to boo and to jeer. They hissed at him, threw rocks at him. “Go back to the shithole country you came from!” they shouted at him, and, “Burn in hell, you eunuch!”

Whose Head Is This and Whose Title?

15 Then the Evangelicals went and plotted to entrap him in what he said. 16 So they sent their disciples to him, saying, “Teacher, we know that you are sincere, and teach the way of God in accordance with truth, and show deference to no one; for you do not regard people with partiality. 17 Tell us, then, what you think. Is it lawful to pay taxes to the government, or not?” 18 But Jesus, aware of their malice, said, “Why are you putting me to the test, you hypocrites? 19 Show me one of your coins..” And they brought him one. 20 Then he said to them, “Whose head is this, and whose title?” 21 They answered, “President Trump..” Then he said to them, “Give to God the things that belong to God, and pay your taxes, but don’t give this clown anything; he’s a liar and a cheat..” 22 When they heard this, they were amazed; and they left him and went away.

The Annual Palm Sunday Parade

It is the annual Palm Sunday Parade, and we have come to see the sights. We’ve come early to secure the best spot, in the grass, in the shade. We’ve brought our collapsible chairs, our umbrellas, opera glasses, and a cooler of beverages. It’s a great day for a parade.  The sun is up. The wind is down. It’s not too cold – winter has only recently lost its grip on the land, and it’s not too warm, the sun has not yet reached its summer intensity. It is a great day for the annual Palm Sunday Parade.

And here they come – the rope-bearers, the knotters who lead the procession with ropes. Their brothers will follow, as we know, at the end of the parade as well, to tie the whole thing together. And yes, it’s official.We can hear the blowing of the horns of the altar.  The parade has begun!

There’s Herold, the herald, ringing a bell, followed by the Daughters of Zion throwing candy.

Now come the Freemasons, wearing caps with two-headed eagles, and splendid aprons with golden embroidery. They are throwing, not candy, but small stones. These are unwanted, rejected stones. Don’t confuse them with the bonbons thrown by the Daughters of Zion. You’ll break your teeth.

Next in line is the All Star Bethany High School Marching Band, playing a selection of songs by Andrew Lloyd Webber. The Bethany High School Marching Band is a crowd favorite. What they lack in precision and skill, they make up in volume.

And here is a strange entry: four creatures walking, or flying as it were, side by side. There is a golden, shimmering Man dressed all in white, and beside him a Lion as large as a truck. Next to the Lion is great Ox with six-foot long horns. Flying next to the Ox, is an Eagle. It shrieks. We are forced to cover our ears. Its cry drowns out even the marching band.

Here comes my favorite. The Laborer’s Local Union 353. They’re holding a banner that reads “MONEY CHANGERS and BANKERS BEWARE!” 

Behind them are the bagpipers.  There are always bagpipers in a parade. Always.

Now come the Lord’s Prayers. They step in time reciting the prayer that our Lord taught us.

Here are the infants and nursing babes – with their prepared praise. It’s difficult to understand what they are saying, what with their mothers’ breasts still in their mouths, and all.  But we cheer for them, nonetheless.

We’re almost at the end now. The little children come next, shouting “Hosanna!” But they’re confused. They are mixed up. Why are they wearing last year’s Christmas pageant costumes?  They’re wearing angel robes and gold tinsel halos. “Hosanna in the Highest!”  Have we got our holiday’s confused? And what is this? What is this next strange sight? A group of men holding palm branches and lemons. Lemons?  The palm branches I understand, but … Lemons?

After the citrons have passed, there is a solitary figure. He’s wearing a tattered sweater and bow tie. He’s holding a pen. I don’t know what he’s doing here.

And now, of course, the man himself riding on a colt and on the foal of a colt, a bareback trick rider extraordinaire.

Our neighbors here on the parade grounds are starting to grumble about all of this. The candy and the chaos in the streets.  But before their complaints can get too loud, they are drowned out by a strange shouting coming from those scattered, discarded stones that the Freemasons tossed.

And that seems to be it. The parade has passed by. The final Knotters have bound the whole thing up. The parade is over and the crowd turns to leave. They pack up their chairs and round up their screaming children with bags of candy.  It’s time to go.  But wait. Wait.  Like a Marvel movie post-credit sequence, here comes one more entry in the parade. Blind beggars and lurching cripples, who look like they’ve crawled up out of dank ditches, struggle on in the wake of the great parade.  They may be late, but they know they will catch up with the Parade Marshal at the end.

Jesus for President

The powerful ones were there that afternoon in the lakeside home of the Missouri millionaire - a couple of bankers, a senator, a rancher from Wyoming. Powerful men. Wealthy men. They declined, however, to think of themselves as “movers and shakers” of society. They preferred Stability and Status Quo to progress and change, unless it was happing in one of those socialist countries in South America or someplace in the Middle East. Shaking there could be turned to profit. No, these men (all men, of course) were assembled to plan for the future. They’d come to discuss their candidate for the next presidential election.

A silver haired and silver tongued Senator welcomed their specially invited guest: “Jesus, we want to thank you for sharing your time with us this afternoon. We know that you’re busy, and we appreciate you willingness to be here as we plan how we can return our country to its Christian heritage. Before we begin, can we offer you something to drink? Some water, perhaps, if you’d like a glass of wine…”

There was polite laughter around the table. Jesus smiled. “No thank you. But I’m glad to be here among you,” he said and made the sign of blessing over them.

“Well, let’s get right down to it, shall we?  We’d like to put your name forward to the nominating committee of God’s Own Party as the presidential candidate with our backing and support, but first we’d like to discuss your platform, your stance on a number of important issues.”

“Wonderful,” Jesus said.

“Let’s start with domestic policy.” The men around the table nodded for Jesus to describe his plans.

“Excellent. One of my first steps would be to announce the cancellation of debts…”

The nodding ceased; a low grumbling ensued. “Excuse me for interrupting, Jesus, what are you talking about?”

“Well, you know. The obvious - student loans, mortgages…”

“Jesus, Jesus!” the silver tongued Senator exclaimed. “You can’t be serious! Why, several of the men in this room own banks that hold those loans, Jesus. Why would you want to do something like that?”

“At the end of every seven years you must cancel debts.” Jesus explained. “This is how it is to be done: Every creditor shall cancel any loan they have made to their fellow countryman. There need be no poor people among you…”

“I’m sorry to interrupt again, Jesus,” said the Senator, who did not look at all sorry to be interrupting, “but where are you getting this policy?”

“The scriptures; that’s in the Law of Moses. Deuteronomy 15.”

“I see. I see. Obviously that’s where the confusion is, Jesus. Deuteronomy? That’s in the Old Testament, right? We thought you’d be guided by the more relevant portions of the New Testament. The gospels perhaps…”

“Sure. Sure,” said Jesus. “How about “…forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors…?”

The murmuring around the table became a low grumbling. “Alright. Alright. Let’s change topics for a while; we can revisit this issue later. Let’s discuss military spending.”

“Excellent,” Jesus said.

“And Jesus,” said the rancher from Wyoming at the back of the room, “don’t be bringing up that whole ‘turn the other cheek’ thing. We ain’t pacifist peaceniks here. This is serious business.”

“Right,” said Jesus. “Serious business.”

“Okay then, Jesus.  We think we can get you another 10 to 12 percent, but we need to hear your plans. How much do you plan to increase military spending?”

“Actually, I’d like to reduce our spending to one-sixth of its current level.”

The grumbling exploded into vexed vocalizations. “For the love of God, Jesus!”

“Exactly" Jesus said. "I’d prefer to reduce it further, but this seemed like a decent compromise for the first term. We can discuss further cuts in my second term.”

“And just where did you pull this one-sixth figure?” the exasperated Senator inquired.

“It’s an arbitrary number, yes. But it is grounded in the same kind of policy I gave to my disciples.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Jesus?”

“After the last supper, the disciples said to me, “Lord, here are two swords,” and I said to them, “That is enough…”

The silver haired Senator threw up his hands in frustration. “I told you this would be a bad idea,” he said to the men around the table in a low, curt voice. Then he turned to Jesus and said, “I’m sorry to have wasted your time, Jesus. Security will be here shortly to escort you from the premises.”

Jesus Confronts the Gun Lobby

A certain lobbyist asked him, "Good teacher, what is the only thing that can stop a bad guy with a gun?"

Why do you call me good?" Jesus answered.

"That's right.. a goo.." the lobbyist stammered.

"No one is good," Jesus said.

"But a good guy... a gun..." the lobbyist faltered, his argument crumbling.

"No one is good except God alone."

Like a Gentile or a Tax Collector

“Jesus,” I said, “I can’t stand that man. He lies to me. He lies about me. I can’t stand him.”

Jesus nodded and said, “Jeff, I understand your frustrations and sympathize with your hurt. I know the pain of calumny.”

“Yes, Lord, I’m sure you do. But this guy is the worst. I want nothing to do with him, anymore.”

“Jeff, if someone wrongs you, you should go and have it out with him – privately. Alone. Between the two of you.”

“Yes. Jesus,” I said. “I have gone to him alone and asked him to stop. But he continues. Can’t I just dislike him?”

“If he hasn’t listened to you, then you should take one or two others with you to speak to him. Everything should have a witness, two or three witnesses would be even better.”

“Jesus! Yes. Yes. I’ve done this Jesus. But he still lies about me. He’s never going to change. He’s just an evil, terrible person.”

“Well then, Jeff,” Jesus put his hand on my shoulder. “If you’ve talked to him alone, and if you’ve tried again in the presence of witnesses, then bring your concerns to the community.”

“What then, Jesus?” I asked, impatient now. “What should I do if he refuses to listen to the church?”

“Then, finally, you may treat him as a gentile or a tax collector.”

“Then I can hate him and shun him?” I asked.

“No! Good God, no!” Jesus snapped. “Don’t you remember how I treated Zacchaeus and the Roman Centurion?”

Matthew 18: 15 - 18

White Dives and Poor Old Lazarus

There was a rich white man named Dives who used to dress in fine linen suits and who feasted every day on tasty victuals and wines. At his gate there used to be a poor black man named Lazarus, covered with sores (he did not have health insurance, of course). He longed to fill his belly with even the scraps that fell from the rich man’s table. And dogs came to lick at Lazarus’ sores. (Did we mention that he had no health insurance?)

Now it happened that the two men died on the same day. Lazarus was carried away by the angels into the Bosom of Abraham, the rich white man was buried in the family plot and descended into the underworld.

Tormented in Hades, he looked up and saw Father Abraham a long way off with old Lazarus in his embrace. He cried out, “Father Abraham, have pity on me. Send Lazarus to dip the tip of his littlest pinky finger in water to cool my parched tongue. I am in agony here in these flames.”

And Father Abraham said, “My son, remember that during your life you had your fill of good things – you lived a life of privilege, white privilege But Lazarus lived a difficult life; now he is being comforted while you are in agony.”

So Dives said, “Father Abraham, send someone, I beg you. Send someone to speak to my five brothers. Send someone to warn them about this white privilege so they won’t end up here in torment.”

But Father Abraham said again, “They have James H. Cone, Howard Thurman, and Cornel West; let your brothers listen to them.” The rich white man said, “No, Father Abraham. But perhaps if someone came back from the dead they’d listen…”

Father Abraham said, “If they will not listen to Cone, Thurman, and West, they will not be convinced even if Martin Luther King Jr. came back from the dead.”

The Kingdom of Heaven Is a Mixed Field

The Parable of the Tares (Weeds / Darnel), found only in the Gospel according to Matthew (13: 24 - 30), is a curious story - not easily understood. And, unfortunately for us, the explanation put into the mouth of Jesus by Matthew (13: 36 - 43) does not really help us to understand it any better.

Jesus tells of a farmer who planted his field with wheat then, as he slept, an enemy of the farmer came during the night and oversowed the field with tares. The farmer’s servants recognize what has happened and ask for permission to root out all of the tares, but the farmer instructs them to be patient, and to instead let the wheat and the tares grow up together, saying that if the tares were yanked up, the wheat would be damaged as well. He tells them to wait until the harvesting time to separate the wheat from the weeds; the weeds will be bundled together and burned at that time.

The “tares” of the parable (Greek - ζιζάνια) have not been specifically identified, but are commonly thought to be not just “weeds” but Poison Darnel, also known as Bearded Darnel (Lolium temulentum), a ryegrass that looks almost identical to wheat, at least right up until the harvest time - and is susceptible to the Ergot fungus which can cause hallucinations, irrational behavior, and even death when consumed. It’s not just a prank. It’s not a minor irritation; the oversowing of darnel into the farmer’s wheat field was a deliberate and malicious act of sabotage. And, apparently, this was not an uncommon occurrence in the ancient world. There was,in fact, a Roman law against this kind of malevolent sowing. (Digest 9.2.27.14)

The parable seems to be an injunction against an overzealous attempt to root out heresies and other objectionable elements from within the Christian community. “Let them grow up together” is the instruction, at least for now, they’ll be separated and burned by the harvesters. But the explanation of this parable ostensibly given by Jesus a few verses later neglects this apparent meaning, and makes the parable into a stiff, apocalyptic allegory of the end of the age.

This disconnect between the apparent motive of the parable and the explanation, combined with a variety of other peculiarities within the explanation cause many biblical scholars to suggest that “it is impossible to avoid the conclusion that the interpretation of the parable of the Tares is the work of Matthew himself,” (Jeremias 81 - 85) and not directly from the mouth of Jesus.

It is even suggested by Sherman E. Johnson that the Parable of the Tares itself may be a literary construction composed by Matthew (by rewriting his source material in Mark 4:26 - 29) to provide a twin parable for the Parable of the Sower (to fit alongside the twin parables of mustard seed / leaven and hidden treasure / the costly pearl) who then provided his own allegorical explanations for them both (Johnson “Introduction” 239, “Exegesis” 415), explanations which may or may not have been what Jesus intended in the telling of the parable.

The Kingdom of Heaven is a mixed field - the good wheat seed sown by the farmer muddled with the toxic, seed mingled in by his enemy. Both grow up together. But we are to carry on our work in spite of mixed results. (Kee 625)

“O you Christians, whose lives are good, you sigh and groan as being few among many, few among very many. The winter will pass away, the summer will come; lo! The harvest will soon be here. The angels will come who can make the separation, and who cannot make mistakes. ... I tell you of a truth, my Beloved, even in these high seats there is both wheat, and tares, and among the laity there is wheat, and tares. Let the good tolerate the bad; let the bad change themselves, and imitate the good. Let us all, if it may be so, attain to God; let us all through His mercy escape the evil of this world. Let us seek after good days, for we are now in evil days; but in the evil days let us not blaspheme, that so we may be able to arrive at the good days” (Augustine)

The servants of the farmer wanted to rush out to the field to pull up the plants sown by the enemy, to storm the fields yanking the pernicious plants up by their roots. But this would have caused damage and trauma to the farmer’s good wheat. Patience. Patience is what the farmer urged on his servants and not zeal, not furious anger, or even righteous indignation, but patience. This is not to say that we are unconcerned with bad doctrine or heretical theology, but it is not our job to go rip-roaring through the fields tearing up the plants and throwing them into the blazing furnace. The self-appointed sentry who takes it upon him or herself to rid the field of these weeds by confrontation and belligerence has taken up a task that the master has not given us and will not further the growth of the kingdom, but will instead cause damage and division.

Be patient. Let the kingdom (a mixed field though it be) grow as the farmer has told us.

See Also: Two Biblical Approaches to Dealing with Disagreement in the Ranks

Augustine, Sermon #23 on the New Testament.

Jeremias, Joachim. The Parables of Jesus. New York, NY: Charles Scribner’s Sons. 1972. Print.

Johnson, Sherman E. “The Gospel According to St. Matthew: Exegesis” The Interpreter’s Bible Volume VII Nashville, TN: Abingdon Press. 1951. Print.

Johnson, Sherman E. “The Gospel According to St. Matthew: Introduction” The Interpreter’s Bible Volume VII Nashville, TN: Abingdon Press. 1951. Print.

Kee, Howard Clark.  “The Gospel According to Matthew” The Interpreter’s One-Volume Commentary on the Bible. Nashville, TN: Abingdon Press. 1971. Print.

Many Other Varieties

The Kingdom of Heaven is something like this: I tilled up a portion of the back yard to plant a garden, but while I slept someone came and sowed other seeds in my garden, and went his way. When my garden sprouted, so too did the other seeds. My son said to me, “Dad, these aren’t the plants you wanted are they? Do you want me to dig them up for you?”

“No,” I said to him. “These may not be the flowers I planted, but look! there are Peter, Paul, and Marygolds, Whole-Milkweed, Snap-Crackle-Pop-Dragons, Paisley Parsley, Sneezeweed, Encumbered Cucumbers in Cummerbunds, Cyan Peppers, Daisies and Nightsies, and many other varieties that I do not recognize. Let’s let them grow. This is even better than what little I had planted.

The Kingdom of Heaven is something like this, but obviously this is fiction: my son never volunteers to help in the garden.

Living with the Samwells

Honestly, I don’t know how we survived growing up in that neighborhood, on that street. Looking back at it now, I can’t believe that we accepted it as normal, as inevitable, as right. George Samwell and his family were a danger, a menace.

George Samwell and his wife, Martha, and their many children lived down the street from us, in one of the larger houses in the neighborhood. Grandmother said that she remembered playing with the children of another family that lived there before the Samwells. I asked Grandmother what happened to them, where they moved, but Grandmother didn’t say. She just got very quiet and told me to leave her alone for a while. I think she was crying.

The Samwell kids used to run around the yard, and up and down the street, shooting at each other with their guns – actual guns. They shot out windows and mailboxes, even shot each other occasionally. Sam just stood there, arms akimbo, chuckling. “What can you do?” he said. “It’s not like you can take away their guns.”

We were never able to prove it, and even if we could have, would we have said anything? We could never prove it, but I’m sure it was one of the Samwell kids who climbed over our fence one night, and killed our dog. They shot him.

George Samwell came into our house once, while we were sitting down to dinner. “Whataya’ eatin’?” he asked. “What is that? Lettuce?”

“Kale” my mother answered.

“I don’t like Kale. Don’t buy that no more. I like beef.” He opened our refrigerator and poked around its contents. “You should buy beef,” he said as he closed the fridge. “Be sure that you do.”

The worst thing though, the thing that really should have tipped the scales - the man had a howitzer in his back yard. A goddamn howitzer cannon in his back yard. He stood out there on summer afternoons, wearing flip-flops and swim trunks, polishing and waxing his big gun. “It’s for self-defense,” he chortled as he drank a beer and patted his cannon. 

Is not Will Be

I am sometimes accused of being too idealistic. This surprises me because I worry about being overly cynical. (I tell people that I’m not as cynical as I could be, but I’m trying.) I worry that my cynicism is overtaking my idealism.

I’m told that socialism might work in an ideal world, but…

I’m told that pacifism might sound like a good idea, but in the “real world” things don’t work that way…

I’m told that my ideas might work someday, after Jesus returns…

But still (at least for now) I believe, or I want to believe. I believe because Jesus said that the Kingdom of Heaven is…, not the Kingdom of Heaven will be. The kingdom of Heaven “has come near” (Matthew 3:2). In his sermons and parables he told the people what the Kingdom of Heaven IS like – now, not the Kingdom of Heaven will be maybe, someday, perhaps… but IS, and is now.

When people tell me that “the world is what it is” or accuse me of being to idealistic and not living in the “real world,” I want to ask them if perhaps they are living in the wrong world. 

The Minister’s New Sermon (a parable of sorts)

Once, not so long ago, there was a Minister who was exceedingly proud of his theological profundity, despite the fact that he seemed to care nothing for study of the scriptures. He had a comment, or a thought, or a brief word to share (that was never so brief) on any topic of Christian devotion. He would speak at length whenever given the opportunity. He needed no time to prepare, in fact he preferred to speak extemporaneously. Taking time to exegete a text seemed wasteful to him, something for the ivory towered intellectuals; he was, he said, gifted by God to speak as he did without preparation.

It also his practice to conclude his speeches, and sermons, and devotional discourses by addressing his audience (whether it was a large crowd or a single individual) and pressing them for comment. “Now tell me, what you think of this,” he would command them. And because he was a Minister of some import and influence with the leaders and prefects of the community, his audiences (whether crowds or individuals) felt compelled to praise his words and compliment his insight.

“Truly, a wise word, sir,” they said, or “I fully agree with everything you have said.”

One Sunday morning he stood at the pulpit in his chapel and delivered a sermon of such eloquence, such soaring expressiveness (he thought, even as he was speaking) that surely the congregation would be lifted to new heights of devotion, that their hearts would burn within them. He lifted metaphors from the text and mixed them with his own spontaneously conceived metaphors. He used catchphrases and buzz words that were current only a decade or so ago. He drifted from one new thought to another new thought in a stream of ever flowing (if somewhat disconnected) ideas until he reached, at long last, his conclusion, and then spoke a bit more before sharing a final two points.

After the prayer and the benediction were spoken, the Minister stood at the door of the sanctuary so that he could greet the members of the congregation as they left. He shook each of their hands and asked, “What did you think of what I said? Deep, right?”

And no one contradicted him.

Your Prefect Now

Pontius Pilate questioned Jesus again saying, “Are you refusing to speak to me? Surely you know I have power to release you and I have power to crucify you?”  Jesus replied, “You would have no power over me at all if it had not been given to you from above…”

Then those that were in the praetorium with them interrupted Jesus. “Be quiet,” they said to him. “Pilate is your prefect now.”

(John 19 sorta’)

Get Over It - Nebuchadnezzar’s Your King Now

King Nebuchadnezzar had a golden statue made, sixty cubits high and six cubits wide, which he set up on the plan of Dura.  A herald then loudly proclaimed, “Peoples, nations, languages! Thus are you commanded, when you hear the sound of the horn, zither, Marine Band, and Mormon Tabernacle Choir, you will prostrate yourself and worship the golden statue.”

Now there were certain Jews: Shadrach, Meshach and Abed-Nego that ignored the command and did not prostrate themselves at the sound of the horn, zither, Marine Band and Mormon Tabernacle Choir. The Chaldeans then came forward and said, “Get over it. Nebuchadnezzar’s your king now.”

Daniel 3 – sorta’