FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

Ezekiel 17:22-24

Psalm 92:1-4, 12-15

2 Corinthians 5:6-17

Mark 4:26-34

Prayer of the Day: O God, you are the tree of life, offering shelter to all the world. Graft us into yourself and nurture our growth, that we may bear your truth and love to those in need, through Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord.

“With many such parables [Jesus] spoke the word to them, as they were able to hear it; he did not speak to them except in parables, but he explained everything in private to his disciples.” Mark 4:33-34.

“Nothing you say is going to change my mind.” I have been met with these words numerous times throughout my life. There really is no response one can make. It is a little like being confronted with a “dead end” sign. The message is clear. You may as well turn around because there is no way you are getting through here. Most of us do just that when we are on the road. But when it comes to conversations, arguments and debates, we are reluctant to believe what the sign is telling us. We cannot rid ourselves of the belief that if we talk long enough, hard enough and persuasively enough, we can get through to that knucklehead and shake those wrongheaded notions out of his head. Witness the arguments over politics and religion that turn into shouting matches. Witness the endless threads on social media where verbal battles are waged with links to articles, clever (and not so clever) memes and the same tired arguments flung back and forth over solidly drawn ideological frontiers. Perhaps these shout fests are in some sense cathartic. But I have never seen them change any minds.

In reality, we tend to believe what we believe because we want to believe it. Our fundamental beliefs about God, about politics and about the world in general help us make sense of our experience. Many people I know need to believe in a god who controls everything and makes all things work out for those who believe in it. How else can they find hope in circumstances that seem otherwise hopeless? For MAGA folks, Donald Trump and his dark rhetoric explain their own anger, fear and feeling of victimhood. The more you point out the man’s stupidity, incompetence and malice, the more angry, defensive and hostile they become. Nothing you say is likely to change their minds. Knowledge that contradicts deeply held beliefs is discounted, explained away or simply ignored.    

I think Jesus understood the futility of arguing against unchangeable minds. That is why he seldom gives a direct answer to opponents who question him. As often as not, he responds with a parable or another question. Jesus is not interested in winning arguments on the terms of his opponents or responding to their arguments or questions. His objective is to get his opponents to ask better questions and discover perspectives they might not have considered before. Parables tend to do just that. They take us into a parallel reality where the consequences of our beliefs and loyalties play themselves out in ways that make us question them. As poet Emily Dickinson urges us to do, Jesus tells the truth, but tells it “slant.” That is often the only way it gets through.

Last week’s gospel is a perfect example of the Jesus approach. His opponents claim that the only reason Jesus can cast out demons is because he is empowered to do so by the prince of demons. Jesus could, of course, take this personally and point to all the good he is doing that is entirely inconsistent with their malignant attack on his character. But he doesn’t. “Alright,” says Jesus. “Let’s run with that. If, in fact I am casting out demons by the prince of demons, it follows that the powers of evil are divided against themselves and about to fall. If that is the case, the reign of God is at hand. On the other hand, if I am casting out demons by the finger of God, it means that the prince of demons is overcome and the reign of God is at hand. Have it your way or mine, but in either case, we are at least agreed that the reign of God is at hand, are we not?” Instead of defending himself and his own reputation, Jesus turns the discussion toward his proclamation of God’s immanent reign and leaves his opponents with a potent question to consider.

I do not believe Jesus made converts of his opponents that day. “Damascus Road” experiences are rare. At least that is the case in my own experience. My changes in perspective, opinion and assumptions happen over time as, little by little, experience, reading, study and conversation with others chips away at what I have always thought to be true and introduces new viewpoints I never considered. Most of the time, our minds change direction more like aircraft carriers than hydroplanes. A little nudge to a great ocean going vessel might not seem to change its course at first. Only twenty or thirty miles out does it become evident that a fraction degree’s change has altered the trajectory of the ship, placing it in a different location than the one toward which it was headed. That is how parables operate. Instead of trying to break down the front door, they sneak in through the back. They sow seeds of doubt that undermine long held beliefs and suggest alternatives that settle subliminally into the brain. Parables are sneaky, seductive and subversive.

The two parables in this Sunday’s lesson do not give us a theological definition of the reign of God-a mystery quite beyond definition. Rather, they give us a fleeting look at what that reign “is like.” It is like the growing cycle. The farmer plants, fertilizes, waters and weeds. But the seed pops when it is good and ready. The earth produces in ways too marvelous for the farmer’s understanding. In the end, the farmer reaps a crop that, while it is the fruit of his efforts, is nevertheless dependent upon powers and processes beyond understanding and control.

And there is more. The second parable lets us know that the crop we get is seldom the one expected or even wanted. Notable in this parable of the mustard seed is the absence of a human  planter. Mustard is not a plant one would deliberately plant or welcome on good, fertile soil. It is a fast growing plant that is highly disruptive. Hooker, Morna D., The Gospel According to Mark, Black’s New Testament Commentaries (c. 1991 by Morna D. Hooker, pub. by Hendrickson Publishers, Inc.) p. 136. The mustard plant can readily take over a field cultivated for more profitable crops. Like the farmer in the previous parable, one must wait patiently on the operation of powers beyond human control. But the resulting “crop” does not spring up in neat, orderly, edible rows waiting to be harvested. Instead, it takes on a life of its own, becoming a haven for birds of the air. This is all very reminiscent of the church in Acts which grows, mutates and expands faster than the apostles can manage to order or control.

My Evangelical Lutheran Church in America employs the moto, “God’s work; our hands.” That is all well and good, as long as it is understood that “our hands,” are not required to get God’s work done. As our Catechism reminds us, God’s kingdom comes without our prayers, works or anything else we do or not do. It is solely because of God’s gracious invitation to include us in this good work that our hands have any involvement. The first parable in Sunday’s lesson should make that clear. Moreover, we ought to be aware that what we imagine to be God’s purpose and what God’s end game actually is are two different things. We might believe that working for a more equitable United States with food, shelter and health care for all comports with God’s design. It may be, however, that God means to make an end of the Untied States to further God’s better purpose for all creation. In that case, putting a mad man at its head followed by a howling lynch mob would be an efficient method of so doing. I hasten to add, however, that this does not in anyway lessen the call to do justice, love kindness an walk humbly with our God as that walk is revealed to us in the faithful life, obedient death and glorious resurrection of Jesus. It does mean, though, that the result of such good work might not comport with our hopes and expectations.

This is how parables work. They get under our skin, shake up everything we think we know about God’s reign and leave us wondering. Parables leave us with more questions-good questions-than answers. We still have no idea what we are doing when we preach, teach, serve, advocate and testify. All we have is God’s promise to put it to God’s own good uses. We have no idea to what ends God will use our good work, whether we will live to see the harvest or recognize it when it appears. All these parables tell us is that the reign of God we cannot see, control or even imagine is nonetheless mysteriously present with us now. That is surely not all we would like to know. But it is enough.

Here is the poem by Emily Dickinson to which I alluded ablove. It illustrates the need for parables where arguments fail.

Tell all the Truth, but tell it Slant

Tell all the truth but tell it slant —
Success in Circuit lies
Too bright for our infirm Delight
The Truth’s superb surprise
As Lightning to the Children eased
With explanation kind
The Truth must dazzle gradually
Or every man be blind —

Source: The Poems of Emily Dickinson: Reading Edition, (c. 1999 by the President and Fellows of Harvard College; edited by Ralph W. Franklin, ed., Cambridge, Mass.) Emily Dickinson (1830-1866) is indisputably one of America’s greatest and most original poets. Born in Amherst, Massachusetts, she attended a one-room primary school in that town and went on to Amherst Academy, the school out of which Amherst College grew. In the fall of 1847 Dickinson entered Mount Holyoke Female Seminary where students were divided into three categories: those who were “established Christians,” those who “expressed hope,” and those who were “without hope.” Emily, along with thirty other classmates, found herself in the latter category. Though often characterized a “recluse,” Dickinson kept up with numerous correspondents, family members and teachers throughout her lifetime. You can find out more about Emily Dickinson and sample more of her poetry at the Poetry Foundation website.