Models

 

God’s grace, peace and mercy be with you. … My focus is our Gospel (Mark 5:21-43). Let us pray. Heavenly Father, the psalmist wrote, “I rejoiced when they said to me, ‘Let us go to the house of the Lord.’” Now that our feet are within your gates, we rejoice to hear your Word. As we listen, may your Spirit enlighten our minds and move our hearts to love deeply as Jesus loved. This we pray to you, Most Holy Trinity. Amen.

My younger brother worked with a guy who was a model. Professionally, both Ed and his friend were chemists, but his friend occasionally did some modeling. He was not your ordinary model strutting the stage wearing the latest fashion. He was a hand model. I mention my brother’s friend for a reason. There are two models in our Gospel who show us not the latest in Middle Eastern clothing and accessories, but how to approach Jesus. Hence, the three points of my sermon are the word model, our models (Jairus and the unknown woman), and Models of the Church.

First, an examination of the word. The word model is a noun, verb and adjective. The adjective precedes words like trains, planes and automobiles. As a boy, I had model trains, planes and cars. Henry Ford used the word to describe a motor vehicle of a particular design, such as the Model T. Model comes to us from the Latin word modulus meaning a small measure or a standard for imitation or comparison or a thing or person that serves or may serve as a pattern or type. It is only in 1915 when we employed the word to mean one who displays clothes.

Biblically, the word is used throughout the Old and New Testaments. Although the Old Testament speaks more of models of altars, chariots and tumors, there is one mention of the word in Ezekiel which reads, “Son of man, sing this funeral song for the king of Tyre. Give him this message from the Sovereign LORD: “You were the model of perfection, full of wisdom and exquisite in beauty.”[1]

The use of the word in the New Testament has more to deal with lifestyle and behavior than objects. Paul wrote to the Thessalonians, “And so you became a model to all the believers in Macedonia and Achaia.” Later he wrote, “We did this, not because we do not have the right to such help, but in order to offer ourselves as a model for you to imitate.”[2] Because he was not shy about encouraging others to imitate himself, he told the Christians at Phillippi to, “Join together in following my example, brothers and sisters, and just as you have us as a model, keep your eyes on those who live as we do.”[3] We find other examples in Romans, Peter’s letters and Paul’s epistles to Timothy and Titus. With an understanding of the secular and biblical use of the word, we turn to our two models, Jairus and the unknown woman.

Let’s set the scene. Following his control over demons and the sea,[4] it seems that nothing is impossible for Jesus.[5] He had power over sickness and death, as well as religious barriers that kept individuals from socializing with family and friends. These barriers were strictly observed because it was the Law. According to God’s command, the people of Israel put out of the camp everyone who was leprous or had a discharge and everyone who was unclean through contact with the dead. “You shall put out both male and female, putting them outside the camp, that they may not defile their camp, in the midst of which I dwell.”[6] In Mark’s Gospel, Jesus overcame sickness and death in the leper, the woman with bleeding, and a dead person.[7]

A man of consequence, Jairus was a synagogue president or elder. This shows us that not all Jewish authorities were hostile to Jesus. Yet, it was unusual for a Jewish official to have substantial faith in Jesus.[8]

Jairus’ deferential approach to Jesus, a recent arrival in town, is meant to be noticed. Jairus forgot his position and pride, and fell on his knees before Jesus not only because his daughter’s condition was at the point of death, but also because he recognized Jesus as a respected teacher with a reputation for miraculous healing powers. He saw Jesus not as a trained doctor but as a traditional healer. The story of Jairus brackets the healing of a woman suffering from 12 years of internal bleeding.

The delay of raising Jairus’ daughter caused by the healing of the woman is integral to the Jairus story.[9] After she was healed, Jesus overheard the comment to Jairus that his daughter was dead. Jesus sought to allay his fears to prevent him from despairing.

Despite the derisive laughter of the mourners, Mark recorded that Jesus expelled the faithless and took three apostles into the room with him. These witnesses were important in an environment where Jesus could be accused of necromancy. Remember, he had already been accused of being in league with Satan.[10]

Mark recorded unique details based on the reminiscences of Peter, James and John.[11] That Jesus took the young girl by the hand, like Peter’s mother-in-law, and that the fact that Aramaic is recorded, the language Jesus and his people spoke but the New Testament authors rarely used, suggests Peter’s recollection.

Sandwiched into the raising of the little girl from the dead is Mark’s account of the woman who suffered from internal bleeding for 12 years. Her bleeding made her a social and religious outcast.[12]

Since one could be defiled through contact with her, physical contact had to be scrupulously avoided. She probably had a primitive and magical understanding of Jesus’ healing, as she only wanted to touch the tassels on Jesus’ garment. When she touched Jesus, she was instantly aware that something happened. The effect of the cure was recognized immediately by the woman and Jesus, which adds to the humanness and strangeness of the situation.[13]

While Jesus was spirituality aware that something happened beyond a simple jostling by the crowd, he is unaware of who has touched him in a special way. His disciples, however, were not as spiritually perceptive as Jesus was, for they appeared stunned.

The woman was afraid for she might be condemned or further ostracized. So, she approached Jesus in fear and trembling. The woman was healed not by mere physical contact, but by faith. This was Jesus’ statement to her: Your FAITH has made you well. Her faith saved her, and to be saved means to be healed – a reference to the eschatological deliverance from the powers of darkness.

Though we are primarily concerned with the Christological and soteriological meanings (Jesus and salvation) of this story, we should not overlook its social significance. In terms of salvation, Mark teaches us that the Gospel reaches both those at the bottom of the social scale and those at the top. Despite the marked contrast between Jairus and the woman, they are both true disciples with insight and faith. It also shows that Jesus was prepared to help anyone, and was especially concerned for the vulnerable.[14]

Jesus’ statements at the end of each healing episode are telling for us. Many times, a person who has become physically well still carries mental and emotional scars. Perhaps Jesus was suggesting that the family of the little girl and the woman need to know and accept that they are now whole again. They are no longer unclean for uncleanness is a matter of the heart, not a matter of the physical condition, and this means that even corpses are not untouchables as far as Jesus is concerned.[15] To be healed of a disease and to eat with family means a new normal, one that calls for celebration and fellowship with other believers and the Lord who has called us to be His disciples.

Finally, the Models of the Church. A number of years ago, American theologian Avery Dulles introduced Six Models of the Church. He viewed the Church as Mystical Communion, Sacrament, Servant, Herald, Institution and a Community of Disciples. If interested, you can read his read his book, Models of the Church.

In a nutshell, Dulles’ models can be summarized as such.[16] Church as Institution emphasizes stability, tradition, and order as God’s system for salvation and community on earth and as God’s instrument for discovering, maintaining, and mediating truth. Church as Mystical Communion stresses the role of the Spirit in creating a meaningful and spontaneous fellowship. A personal walk with God and the enhancement of relational side of Christian experience is the ultimate goal of this model. Church as Sacrament celebrates the intersection between the human and divine. Church as Herald puts the priority on proclaiming the good news. The church is most faithful when there is an abundance of evangelistic efforts. Church as Servant seeks to touch the suffering world at the points of greatest need. The church is truest to its calling when it is feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, and so on. Church as Community of Disciples emphasizes that the Church is a community of people who follow Jesus, trying to be like Jesus in everything they do, say, pray, knowing that following Jesus may include suffering.

I mention all this because as Church, we, as individuals and a congregation, must model behavior for the world. The world can learn from us, but we must first and continually learn from Scripture, particularly from Jesus, and also those models of faith who sought him.

Friends, I have covered the definition and Biblical examples of model, and as you ponder how you see the Universal Christian Church and this congregation as a model, let me conclude with a third story of healing and forgiveness lest you think they are found only as old Biblical tales that could not occur in the 21^st century. Healing and forgiveness occur daily. They happen when God’s Word strikes our ears and hearts. They occur when God’s Sacrament touches our hands and lips. They take place when we pray privately and publicly.

With that Good News, here is the story of a woman who had “heard about Jesus.” She was a Sikh woman from the Punjab whose legs had been paralyzed for twelve years. Hearing reports that Jesus was healing people at a Catholic retreat center in southern India, she went there. She met a priest and told him of her painful past, how she had been abused by her husband and finally in despair had jumped off a balcony, breaking her back. The priest was moved to speak to her about Jesus’ teachings on forgiveness, and invited her to forgive her husband. She immediately challenged him: “If I forgive my husband, will your Jesus heal me?” After a quick prayer, he answered, “I don’t know if it is Jesus’ will to heal you, but I do know that if you forgive, you will experience a peace and joy that you have never known before.” The next day, a retreat speaker invited everyone to standup and thank God for his goodness. The woman later told the priest what happened: “I thought to myself, I have so much to thank God for. I am alive. I have two sons who take care of me. I must praise God!” She stood, raised her hands to God, and was instantly and completely healed of her paralysis. The woman stayed at the retreat center for several months to go through instruction. She and her sons were baptized, and they went home to “tell everybody about her Jesus.”[17]

My friends, I hope that you too tell everybody about Jesus. I pray that you are a model of faith for others in your family, neighborhood, workplace, school or wherever. Whether the world sees you as a Mystical Communion, Sacrament, Servant, Herald, Institution or a Community of Disciples, it matters not. What matters is that you allow yourself to be drawn closer to Jesus like Jairus and the woman, and that your attraction of the heart brings others to Christ the Lord. And when you do, may the peace of God that surpasses all understanding keep your minds and hearts in Christ Jesus, Amen.

 

 

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[1] Ezekiel 28:12, New Living Translation.

[2] 1 Thessalonians 1:7, 2 Thessalonians 3:9, New International Version.

[3] Philippians 3:17, NIV.

[4] Mark 4:35-5:20.

[5] R. T. France, The Gospel of Mark: A Commentary on the Greek Text. Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company (2002), 234.

[6] Numbers 5:1-4.

[7] See Mk 1:40-45; 5:24b-34; 5:35-43. James Voelz, Mark 1:1 – 8:26 St. Louis: Concordia Publishing House (2013), 377.

[8] Ibid, 185.

[9] Ben Witherington III, The Gospel of Mark: A Social-Rhetorical Commentary. Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company (2001), 184.

[10] Mark 3:22. Ibid, 189.

[11] Ibid, 185.

[12] Leviticus 15:25-30.

[13] Voelz, 372.

[14] Ibid, 185.

[15] Ibid, 190.

[16] See http://www.lifeandleadership.com/book-summaries/dulles-models-of-the-church.html

[17] Mary Healy, The Gospel of Mark. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic (2008), 108.

Be Not Afraid

 

What scares you? Some people are afraid of spiders and snakes. Others are afraid of the dark or heights. Still others are afraid of dentists or wild animals like bears, lions or sharks.

My friend, Mark, spent 20 years on a Navy submarine. There were times that his submarine did not come out of the ocean for several weeks. I don’t know if I could have ever been a submariner, and so I asked Mark, “What was your biggest fear when you were on the submarine?” Do you know what he said? … He said, “Fire. A fire on a submarine is the worst thing that could happen.” I never thought of that.

Now, in our Gospel today (Mk 4:35-41), the Apostles are afraid that they are going to die, and so they wake Jesus from his sleep. That’s right. While the apostles’ boat was being tossed around by the sea, Jesus was fast asleep. He must have been exhausted!

And what did Jesus say after he calmed the storm? He asked his disciples, “Why are you so afraid? Have you still no faith?”

At times, when we are afraid, we need to remind ourselves of Jesus’ words, “Why are you so afraid?” As long as God Father, Son or Holy Spirit are with us, we have no reason ever to be afraid. That is why we turn to the Church, the Sacraments, prayer and the Bible when we are afraid. They strengthen and comfort us, and we are sure that God hears and answers our prayers.

With that, let us pray. Heavenly Father, from whom all fatherhood in heaven and earth is named: Bless these and all children, and give their parents the spirit of wisdom and love, so that the homes in which they grow up may be to them an image of Your Kingdom, and the care of their parents a likeness of Your love. We pray in the Name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Perish, Peace, Pistis

 

God’s grace, peace and mercy be with you. My sermon title is Perish, Peace, Pistis (Faith), and my focus is our Gospel (Mk 4:35-41). Let us pray. Heavenly Father, the psalmist wrote, “I rejoiced when they said to me, ‘Let us go to the house of the Lord.’”  Now that our feet are within your gates, we rejoice to hear your Word. As we listen, may your Spirit enlighten our minds and move our hearts to love deeply as Jesus loved. This we pray to you, Most Holy Trinity. Amen.

The method of prayer I prefer employs the imagination. When I read a passage from Scripture, I place myself there. What do I see, hear, smell, taste and touch? What emotions do the people in the passage feel? Do I experience pain, joy, doubt, disbelief, forgiveness, hunger or satisfaction? When I read the passages of the feeding of the crowds, what do the people look like? How are they dressed? How do they smell? Is there a sense of desperation amidst the crowd? How do the disciples’ voices sound as this miracle unfolds before them? How do the bread and fish taste? How do the crowds and Jesus react?

When I read today’s passage from Mark, I used that method of prayer to create a sermon based on what I experienced in my prayer: perish, peace and pistis, the Greek word for faith. And because prayer demands action, a question: Now what?

First, perish. If you have not experienced a perfect storm, tornado, hurricane, earthquake, white out, tsunami, flood, blizzard, heat wave or avalanche, you may have been involved in a train crash, car crash, or felt the force of a linebacker colliding with your body. In an instant, you felt like you were not going to survive the moment.

If we have not personally experienced such an event, we get a sense of what it means to perish when we watch Titanic, Poseidon Adventure, The Towering Inferno, Twister, Armageddon or any other natural disaster movie.

To perish means to suffer death, typically in a violent, sudden or untimely way. It also means to undergo complete ruin or destruction. Its origin is from two Latin words: per meaning through and ire meaning to go. To go through or perire eventually came to be known as pass away.

At a certain point in the passage, the disciples woke Jesus and asked, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” Prior to this, Jesus was teaching the crowds in parables from a boat anchored offshore. When he finished in the evening, he asked his disciples to cross to the other side. The eastern side of the Sea of Galilee, across from Capernaum, was a predominantly Gentile area. This voyage would be the first into Gentile territory. The disciples accompanied Jesus in several boats, leaving the crowd on the shore. They cast off with Jesus still seated in his floating pulpit without first going ashore.

The Sea of Galilee is known for violent storms that can arise without warning, as wind funnels through the steep valleys among the hills surrounding the lake. In this instance the storm was so fierce that it terrified even seasoned fishermen. Waves crashed over the boat, swamping it and threatening to sink it. Yet in the midst of this fury, Jesus was in the stern, asleep. Anyone who has ever been in a violently storm-tossed boat has reason to think that this ability to sleep through the storm was the first miracle! Jesus’ sleep exemplified perfect trust in God that is often signified in Scripture by a peaceful and untroubled sleep. We read in Job, “If you prepare your heart … you will feel secure, because there is hope; you will look around and take your rest in security. You will lie down, and none will make you afraid.” The Psalmist wrote, “In peace I will both lie down and sleep; for you alone, O LORD, make me dwell in safety.” Proverbs 3:24 reads, “If you lie down, you will not be afraid; when you lie down, your sleep will be sweet.”

Jesus’ serenity is not shared by his disciples, who woke him with a stinging reproach: “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” This is the first time in Mark that Jesus was called Teacher, having just completed a day of teaching. This time, however, they would learn a powerful lesson of faith, learned by experience. The tone of the disciples’ question suggests that they had a vague idea that Jesus could do something about the storm, but they think he is indifferent to their plight, with no concern for survival. They are much like God’s people in Exodus. In chapter 14, we read, “When Pharaoh drew near, the people of Israel lifted up their eyes, and behold, the Egyptians were marching after them, and they feared greatly. And the people of Israel cried out to the LORD. They said to Moses, ‘Is it because there are no graves in Egypt that you have taken us away to die in the wilderness? What have you done to us in bringing us out of Egypt?’” On that day, at that very moment, God delivered his people to safety from peril, from death to life, and Jesus would deliver them too, not only from one side to the other, but in ways they could not fathom until He rose. So, as Jesus and his disciples cross to the other side, let me cross from my first point to my second, from perish to peace.

Peace is defined as a state of tranquility or freedom from disquieting or oppressive thoughts or emotions. It also means harmony in personal relations or mutual concord between governments. It also means to ask for silence or calm or as a greeting or farewell. The Greek word for peace and the Hebrew word, shalom, mean safety, welfare and prosperity.

Apparently, the disciples were not experiencing any sort of peace, but rather, panic. Jesus, however, did not leave his disciples in their panic. He immediately woke and rebuked the raging sea. He did not pray that God would calm the storm but commanded it himself with sovereign authority: Peace! Be still!

Rebuked is the same word used to describe his casting out unclean spirits. In chapter one, he rebuked the unclean spirit of the man who enter the synagogue in Capernaum. We read, “Jesus rebuked him, saying, ‘Be silent, and come out of him!’ And the unclean spirit, convulsing him and crying out with a loud voice, came out of him.’”

This suggests that demonic powers somehow instigated the squall that threatened to deflect him and his disciples from their mission. We know that in the Old Testament, the sea is often a symbol of chaos and the home of evil powers. Job stated, “By his power he stilled the sea.” The Psalmist wrote, “You divided the sea by your might; you broke the heads of the sea monsters on the waters. You crushed the heads of Leviathan; you gave him as food for the creatures of the wilderness.” And Isaiah prophesied, “In that day the LORD with his hard and great and strong sword will punish Leviathan the fleeing serpent, Leviathan the twisting serpent, and he will slay the dragon that is in the sea.” Jesus exorcised these forces of nature with the same authority that freed human beings from demonic possession. Instantly the howling wind subsided and the choppy waves became calm. The wording parallels Psalm 107: “They cried to the LORD in their trouble, and he delivered them from their distress. He made the storm be still, and the waves of the sea were hushed.”

Finally, pistis, faith. In Greek mythology, pistis was the personification of good faith, trust and reliability. In Christianity and in the New Testament, pistis is the word for faith. Pistis’ Roman equivalent was Fides, a personified concept significant in Roman culture.

The Latin word for faith means trust, confidence, reliance, credence or belief. In the early 14^th-century it meant assent of the mind to the truth of a statement for which there is incomplete evidence, especially belief in religious matters. Faith is neither the submission of reason, nor is it the acceptance, simply and absolutely upon testimony, of what reason cannot reach. Faith is the ability to cleave to a power of goodness appealing to our higher and real self, not to our lower and apparent self.

Returning to our Gospel passage, at the moment the danger passed, Jesus chided his disciples for their feeble faith. “Why are you so afraid? Have you still no faith?” Certainly, they turned to him in their moment of terror and dismay; but they did not yet grasp who he really was: sovereign lord over all creation. Jesus was forming a band of followers who were to be confident in their mission on earth: to bring the peace and authority of the kingdom into al the troubles of humanity. He called them to complete a task on the other side of the sea: would he have done so only to let them perish in the waves?

 The disciples knew that God alone possessed power to subdue the seas. From Exodus on, God’s control of the sea signified his tender care for his people. Again, the Psalmist wrote, “O LORD God of hosts, who is mighty as you are, O LORD, with your faithfulness all around you? You rule the raging of the sea; when its waves rise, you still them.” So it is no wonder that after Jesus calmed the storm, they were filled with great awe. Their terror of the forces of nature was replaced by reverent fear of the presence of God in Jesus. His subduing of the sea was a sign of his divine authority. “Who then is this?” is a question that not only Jesus’ contemporaries but all the readers of the Gospel are meant to ask. Echoing his question to the disciples: Who do you say that He is?

Well, there you have it. I made my three points, and ask, “Now, what?” Returning to my first point, perish, I searched the internet for the phrase, “I thought I was going to die.” I found these stories: a young woman who survived a school shooting in North Texas; another who survived a car fire caused by her cell phone; a cyclist who survived being crushed by a car; as well as people who survived a car-jacking, a nose-diving plane and a grandmother attacked by a bobcat.

Personally, I never survived an attack by a bobcat, a car-jacking, a shooting or a nose-diving plane. However, I have experienced a car crash, the death of my parents and my younger brother, friends and relatives. I suffered from job losses and bad investments. I lost teeth, broke bones, tore my meniscus and rotator cuff, which required surgery, and suffer from arthritis. Like you, I have lived to talk about it.

When we talk about our losses, most people understand and some gain insight. Life is short. Our bodies are fragile. Accidents happen. Senseless violence from man and beast occurs. Everyone dies. When storms strike, we are in the same boat thinking we are going to perish.

Still, survivors who tell their stories inspire hope into others because of what our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, His Father and the Holy Spirit have done for us. Therefore, allow me to close with the story of one survivor.

Horatio Gates Spafford and his wife, Anna, were well known 19^th century Chicagoans. As a prominent lawyer and a senior partner in a large and thriving law firm, he was also able to invest heavily in real estate in an expanding Chicago during the 1860s. He was an elder in the Presbyterian Church and a close friends of evangelist Dwight Moody.

In 1871, the Great Fire of Chicago reduced Spafford’s real estate investments to ashes and scarlet fever took the life of his son. In 1873, Spafford decided his family should take a holiday in England knowing that his friend Dwight Moody would be preaching there. He was delayed because of business, so he sent his family ahead: his wife and their four children, daughters eleven-year-old Annie, nine-year-old Maggie, five-year-old Elizabeth Bessie, and two-year-old Tanetta. On November 22, 1873, while crossing the Atlantic on the steamship Ville du Havre, their ship was struck by an iron sailing vessel and 226 people lost their lives, including all four of Spafford's daughters. Only his wife survived the tragedy. Upon arriving in England, she sent a telegram to Spafford beginning "Saved alone." Spafford then sailed to England, going over the location of his daughters' deaths. According to Bertha Spafford Vester, a daughter born after the tragedy, Spafford wrote "It Is Well with My Soul" on this journey. Spafford wrote these words in the second verse and the refrain.

 

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,

let this blest assurance control:

that Christ has regarded my helpless estate,

and has shed his own blood for my soul.

It is well with my soul;

it is well, it is well with my soul.

 

My friends, the Church today, like the boat bearing the disciples and the sleeping Jesus, is no different than the small, struggling early Church, storm-tossed on the seas of the vast Roman empire. They must have wondered why their Lord seemed to be asleep in the stern – absent, unaware, or unconcerned about the mortal perils that threatened them. Through the ages, how often did his disciples feel that way in the midst of storms of persecution, natural disasters or personal troubles? But Jesus’ authority is without limit, and though he allows trials, in the end nothing can truly harm those who trust in him. As He gave disciples the authority to tread on serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy, He promised them that nothing would hurt them.

His reproach of not to be afraid is an invitation for all Christians to awaken their faith in his presence and in his absolute authority over creation. The true antidote to fear of earthly dangers is the faith that comes from fear of the Lord. We read in Job, “Behold, the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom, and to turn away from evil is understanding” The most repeated command, do not fear, is an instruction not to succumb to the enemy’s strategy, which is to dismantle Jesus’ followers from their mission. When we have no fear, the enemy trembles in fear. At these times, repeat Spafford’s words, “It is well with my soul.” And when you do, may the peace of God that surpasses all understanding keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.

Parallels, Parables, Planting

 

God’s grace, peace and mercy be with you. … My sermon is entitled “Parallels, Parables and Planting” and my focus is our Gospel (Mk 4:26-34). Let us pray. Heavenly Father, the psalmist wrote, “I rejoiced when they said to me, ‘Let us go to the house of the Lord.’” Now that our feet are within your gates, we rejoice to hear your Word. As we listen, may your Spirit enlighten our minds and move our hearts to love deeply as Jesus loved. This we pray to you, Most Holy Trinity. Amen.

The word parallel comes from two Greek words: para meaning beside and allelois meaning each other. By definition, parallel means extending in the same direction, equidistant at all points, and never converging or diverging. Most of us know that lines in a plane which do not intersect or touch each other at any point are said to be parallel. Parallel may also refer to computing, mathematics, science, navigation, music, entertainment, grammar, rhetoric or gymnastics.

Gospel parallels place similar passages from different evangelists alongside each other for easy comparison. This is an important tool for anyone who wants to better understand the gospels. How did different writers tell the same stories in the first generations of the Church? Why are they different?

The synoptic gospels, Matthew, Mark and Luke, contain much of the same material. Matthew and Luke tell nearly all of the stories told in Mark and share several stories that are not in Mark. In addition, all three books are written as if the authors personally observed all of the events and were reporting what they saw at the time.

The Gospel of John purposefully omitted much of the material found in the synoptic gospels and added a considerable amount of material not found in them. It appears that John wrote his gospel as a supplement to the other three. So, when you place the four side-by-side, you see striking similarities and subtle differences.

All three synoptic gospels recorded that Jesus compared the mustard seed to the Kingdom. Matthew used the phrase Kingdom of heaven, while Mark and Luke employed the phrase Kingdom of God. The seed was sown. Matthew wrote that a man sowed it on the field. Mark wrote that the seed was sowed upon the ground, while Luke said that a man sowed it in his garden.

Matthew’s Jesus stated that the seed is the smallest of all seeds, while Mark’s Jesus added that it is the smallest of all seeds on the earth, and Luke’s Jesus is silent on its size. Matthew’s seed has grown; Mark’s grows up and puts forth large branches; and Luke’s grew. Matthew described its maturity as the greatest of shrubs and becomes a tree; Mark as the greatest of all shrubs; and Luke as a tree.

All three mention the birds of the air, while Matthew concluded that they come and make nests in its branches; Mark that they can make nests in its shade; and Luke that they made nests in its branches.

Why painstakingly point out striking similarities and subtle differences in 2 or 3 verses of Scripture? To compare literary styles suited for their particular audiences and to emphasize certain theological statements.

Immediately, we notice the different places where the seed is planted and what happens when it flourishes: field, ground and garden. Nestmaking occurred in the present and in the past. Why note these subtle differences? Well, if I’m in Potter Township, I would plant seeds in a field, but if I’m in Pittsburgh, a garden. If I’m writing my gospel in 70 AD, I would write about the present, but if I’m writing my gospel in 85 AD, time has passed, and that would alter my writing. By the time Luke wrote his gospel, around 85 AD, the church had grown and flourished. So, when we read the gospel parallels, we need to keep in mind the time, setting and audience of its hearers and readers because while the church is universal, it is not always uniform.

So, what made Mark different? What was he saying? What was his theological point? We could spend hours discussing his literary style, apocalyptic symbolism and irony, but let me leave you with this. Mark was the first to write a biography of Jesus that linked his ministry to his Passion. He invited readers to understand that Jesus’ words and deeds were inextricably linked to that finale, and that was what awaited his followers. In other words, Mark connected Christology to discipleship. I will return to that thought, but for now let me move to my second point, parables.

What is a parable? Simply defined, a parable is a short story that teaches a moral or spiritual lesson. It comes to us from the Latin, parabola, and the Greek, parabole, which literally meant ‘a throwing beside.’ Its origin is from the term para, again, meaning alongside, and bole, throwing or casting, or a beam or ray.

The geometrically gifted understand that a parabolic curve refers to a comparison between fixed points and a straight line. The St. Louis Arch and your satellite dish are parabolic curves. Jesus, however, did not teach math or build arches. Rather, he compared real life situations to teach a lesson about God.

Parables were part of Jewish tradition. The Hebrew term for a parable was mashal. We find mashal in the allegories, proverbs, riddles and taunts of Judges, Samuel, Proverbs and Prophets. We are familiar with Nathan’s powerful story to David of the rich man who stole and slaughtered the poor man’s prized lamb. It transformed David to a humble, contrite sinner. So, we see that Jesus did not invent parables, but like his ancestors, used them to win people over to his views.

Jesus spoke parables to proclaim the gracious advent, disturbing presence and challenging implications of the Kingdom of God. At times, he opened with, “The kingdom of heaven is like…” or, “To what shall I compare?” Although he ends his teaching abruptly, Jesus often concluded with a challenging question. “Which of these three … proved to be a neighbor to the man who fell among the robbers?” Or, “When the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?”

While Jesus did not pressure listeners to choose any one direction, he confronted them with the necessity to make a choice that determined their future. No doubt, his listeners who viewed matters one way now discovered a better way. Discovering a better way resulted in conversion, reconciliation and changed behavior. Once they experienced conversion and reconciliation, his followers transformed society and changed the world.

The Parable of the Mustard Seeds opens with Jesus thinking aloud, searching for ways to help his listeners grasp the mystery of the kingdom. It cannot be defined or contained in human categories but understood only by using word pictures that force the listener to think and ponder at a deeper level. Once again, the earthly reality most suitable is a tiny seed. In this seed parable, the emphasis is on the seed’s smallness. For Jesus’ Jewish audience, the idea of the kingdom as a seed must have seemed surprising. A more predictable comparison would have been a cataclysmic earthquake or a mighty army. Isaiah prophesized, “You will be visited by the LORD of hosts with thunder and with earthquake and great noise, with whirlwind and tempest, and the flame of a devouring fire.” Elsewhere he proclaimed, “The sound of a tumult is on the mountains as of a great multitude! The sound of an uproar of kingdoms, of nations gathering together! The LORD of hosts is mustering a host for battle.” Joel echoed those words, “The LORD utters his voice before his army, for his camp is exceedingly great; he who executes his word is powerful. For the day of the LORD is great and very awesome; who can endure it?” But no, the kingdom is like a mustard seed, which Jesus describes for effect as the smallest of all the seeds on the earth which springs up and becomes – again, for effect – the largest of plants.

In mentioning large branches that shelter many birds, Jesus evoked the image of a lofty, shady tree, symbolizing an empire that grants protection to peoples of different races and tongues.

The Prophet Daniel interpreted the dream of Nebuchadnezzar as a tree that “grew and became strong, and its top reached to heaven, and it was visible to the end of the whole earth. Its leaves were beautiful and its fruit abundant, and in it was food for all. The beasts of the field found shade under it, and the birds of the heavens lived in its branches, and all flesh was fed from it.”

In Ezekiel, we read, “Thus says the Lord GOD: ‘I myself will take a sprig from the lofty top of the cedar and will set it out. I will break off from the topmost of its young twigs a tender one, and I myself will plant it on a high and lofty mountain. On the mountain height of Israel will I plant it, that it may bear branches and produce fruit and become a noble cedar. And under it will dwell every kind of bird; in the shade of its branches birds of every sort will nest.’”

The parable of the mustard seed pointed to the future worldwide reach of the kingdom of God. From its humble, inauspicious beginnings in Jesus’ itinerant preaching in Galilee with a small band of followers, the kingdom would mature to an immense tree in whom Gentiles would find a home. This growth was not due to human methods but to God’s hidden power. Jesus spoke with utter assurance of the future success of the kingdom, urging his disciples to persevere with hope and patience.

Now, let me return to Mark connecting Christology to discipleship. Last week I made the point of illustrating Mark’s sandwich technique: how he wrapped stories together by layering one passage between two parallel passages. I said that the entire Gospel of Mark is one massive sandwich with 8:29 as the real meat: And he asked them, “But who do you say that I am?” Peter answered him, “You are the Christ.” Then after he rebuked Peter, Jesus called the crowd and the disciples to him and said, “’If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake and the gospel’s will save it. For what does it profit a man to gain the whole world and forfeit his soul? For what can a man give in return for his soul?’”

I revisit that passage to make a point about Mark. He was the first writer to connect the narrative of what Jesus said and did to what God accomplished in the Christ’s death and resurrection and call it good news or Gospel. He linked the two inextricably because he wanted his readers to understand Jesus’ words and deeds not as independent modes of revelation, but as one interdependent mode of revelation. To identify Jesus as the Christ and to understand his life through the prism of the cross was the first point Mark was making. The second was to understand who you are in relation to Jesus Christ. In short, just as Mark linked inextricably Jesus’ words and deeds to his death and resurrection, he challenged his readers to see themselves as linked to Christ.

And so, I ask you, do you identify yourself as a Christian, one who not only follows his teaching, but one who embraces the cross as he did? What choice will you make today that will determine your future? Since you heard Jesus’ words and deeds, have you determined that his way of life is better than yours? …

Finally, planting seeds. We are all familiar with planting seeds. Whether we farm the land or garden a plot, we know that seeds sprout and mature into plants that bear fruit. As I reflect upon this parable, I wrestle with the activity of planting seeds and the quiet contemplation of marveling at God’s power. Should I be actively engaging people through evangelization? Should I join a megachurch where Christian fellowship is alive? Distribute Bibles on the corner or in some other corner of the world, like China? Wear jewelry and clothing that advertises my beliefs? Share sermons on social media?

Should I marvel at how the Kingdom of God blossoms in spite of our efforts to thwart it? Should I spend more time reading and reflecting on Biblical passages? Should I study and journal? Download podcasts onto my smartphone and listen to them as I walk or drive? Set aside time for quiet meditation and contemplation?

Personally, I am more of an active contemplative. I spend time each morning reading Scripture, sacred writings and Biblical theology, and the rest of the day interviewing people, writing reports and driving the western suburbs. Interspersed throughout the day I eat, drive my tractor and unpack boxes, walk our dogs and, more importantly, spend time with my wife. The time I spend in the morning affects the rest of the day. When I come across a passage, like today’s parable, or a reflection by one of the Church Fathers or a contemporary theologian, I discuss it with my wife on a walk or over dinner.

Periodically, while living my ordinary life, the topic of religion emerges. It’s in the ordinary moments that God provides an opportunity to put spirituality into action. Now, I can think of hundreds of stories where this has happened to me, and you would think it normal for a pastor, but, instead, I turn to a story my wife, Cindy, told me.

Cindy recently had a conversation about vacations with her trainer. Cindy told a friend that in 2022, we are going to Oberammergau, Germany to see the Passion Play. Her friend asked what that was. Cindy explained it was about the Passion of Jesus, and that the play is performed only once every ten years by people who live in Oberammergau. The lady acknowledged that she was raised in a home where her parents did not practice religion. After a minute, she asked Cindy, “Didn’t they make a movie about the Passion?” It was Cindy’s opportunity to evangelize in the ordinary moment.

It was her opportunity to evangelize in the ordinary moment. I repeat that sentence because we all have ordinary moments when we can evangelize at the gym or in the bleachers, in a restaurant or the grocery store, while parenting or teaching, babysitting or banking. And anywhere the Spirit blows us is where we plant seeds and marvel at the mystery of God’s Kingdom.

Friends, when we plant seeds, we should marvel not at what we have done but what God has done through Christ, His Church and the Holy Spirit dwelling in and among us. In prayer I ask God that you find ordinary opportunities to plant the seeds of God’s Kingdom and marvel at His Mysteries through prayer and evangelization. And when you do, may the peace of God that surpasses all understanding keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.