The Blessed Community Is God's to Name, Not Ours to Make



Sometimes it seems that our American culture has become so obsessed with rooting out the worst seen in each other that we have lost our own sense of the good God has placed in each one of God's own children. It is as if the Kingdom can only be that which we approve it as being.
When Jesus speaks in parables concerning the Kingdom of God in the Gospel according to Matthew, He teaches about the tiny mustard seed, the beautiful pearl, the hidden treasure, the yeast . . . and of a Sower who casts seeds about willy-nilly, and of a Landowner willing to allow the weeds to grow up along with the wheat until the day of harvest. In telling His parables, I wonder if Jesus ever took into account the possibility that the created would one day weary of searching for the plantings of the Creator? That rather than seek the mustard seed we would only be happy with the full-grown bush? That instead of treasuring the found pearl we would insist on the full jewelry store? That instead of committing ourselves to the search for the hidden we would only be satisfied with the obvious? That the wait for yeast to do its work would overwhelm and drive us to insist on the full loaf immediately? 
I wonder if Jesus could have seen in those before Him on the shore the shallow planting in the hearts of some? The busyness which would block out the Light of Hope for others? Or the hardness of soul in many which would never allow His seed to take root?
I wonder if the parable about the weeds in the wheat was about what Jesus saw going on in His day? Or whether He was already then speaking to the people along the shores of this nation today? Did He perceive the anger which would build after generations of oppression and injustice? Did He foreshadow the frustration of some who would no longer wait for the wheat to mature, for the harvest to arrive, and begin the yanking out of problematic weeds on their own? In telling this parable, then explaining it to the disciples as He did, was Jesus urging us to a faith and patience about the coming Kingdom that was not hinged on getting everything we wanted right now, the way we want it, with the brand of truth our itching ears could hear?
I wonder if that is precisely what drove them to march Him to the cross? Or that leads us to nail Him to its timbers?
Is it truly easier for One to die, than for others to have to live the faith each day? Does it make more sense to crucify the One who causes creation to have to take account of its own brokenness and repent of its behaviors, than to listen to His teaching on the fires of Sheol for those who are so certain they cannot possibly be the ones to whom He is referring? Does it make us feel more secure to know that we have laid His body in a tomb, buried alongside the placards of our demonstrations and the statues of the history we now disavow, than to look Him in the face and see in His eyes the Love still there and the forgiveness still offered?
Sometimes . . . sometimes, it seems we have become more obsessed with our own wants and desires for what we believe the kingdom should be now, today, in this moment, than we are willing to listen to His Word and seek out the mystery of the Kingdom in His teaching along our journey.
Sacred is the path of those who open God's children to see the good in Zacchaeus, the peace in the Geresene demoniac, the wonder in the Samaritan woman at the well, the humility in Nicodemus' searching and the sight expressed in blind Bartimaeus' cries. 
Holy, too, the Wisdom of those whose awe leads them to treasure the seed, to kneel down and savor the pearl, to seek out the treasure, and to wait on the yeast while on the pilgrimage of life itself. 
The Kingdom of God is not ours to shape, claim or build. It is the planting of God, the willy-nilly Sower, awaiting our discovery in faith, our longing for growth and our complete devotion in discipleship. Therein, the Kingdom will flourish like the greatest of bushes where the tiniest bird might build their nest in the safety of Her Beauty and Strength. 
May it be so for you. May it be so for us all.
Something to ponder on the journey.

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