Matthew 13:31-33, 44-52
Presented July 24th, 2005, by J.D. Kline
The Tenth Sunday after Pentecost
I don’t know about you, but as I consider my early learnings of the Christian faith, I quickly gathered the sense that discipleship—following Jesus—is serious business. And for good reason. As disciples of Jesus, we carry a high calling—to be salt for the earth, light to the world around us, representatives of Christ’s compassion and mercy and grace in our relationships with others, citizens of God’s kingdom or realm on earth. Floyd Mallott, professor at Bethany Seminary a couple generations ago, in his book Studies in Brethren History asserts that “from the beginning Brethren had no basic test of a Christian except to ask whether he [or she] would try to live in exact imitation of and obedience to Jesus.”
This morning’s Gospel lesson includes a series of parables told by Jesus to give us a taste of what it means to embrace life in God’s kingdom and embark upon a journey of discipleship. Each parable reminds us that something remarkably new is unfolding, something well beyond the customary, something little anticipated yet worthy of the investment of all our energy, all our passion, all our commitment. Serious business, indeed!
But sometimes, I fear, we take not only the gospel story, but also ourselves, so seriously that we miss the joy. Biblical scholar John Dominic Crossan asserts that two of this morning’s parables—the parables of the buried treasure and of the pearl of great cost—may well form the foundation for all the other teachings and parables Jesus tells. For at the heart of these two parables is a call to joyful abandon, surrendering ourselves to Christ and Christ’s manner of living. It’s an intriguing combination, isn’t it? Joy and abandonment; celebration coupled with the call to deny self, take up the cross, and follow Jesus. Indeed, should this element of joy and celebration be lost, should we lose sight of the joy that comes as we entrust our lives to the care of Christ Jesus, something critical is missing. Rather than a being a radically new way of living we freely embrace, discipleship instead becomes little more than drudgery and obligation, duty and requirement.
Back in the 18th century Alexander Cruden, author of a much-used Concordance of the Bible, contended that “to laugh is to be merry in a sinful manner.” Cruden’s words remind us that it is not only Brethren who in the course of the unfolding Christian story have been tempted to sever joy from the life of discipleship. Few of us, I trust, would choose Cruden’s sour view of Christian living, yet how is that we maintain the joy in our journey of discipleship? How is it that we link the quality of celebration and gratitude with our desire to faithfully follow God’s vision for our lives?
Dietrich Bonhoeffer, leader of the Confessing Church in World War II Germany that stood in opposition to the Nazi movement, wrote in his book The Call to Discipleship:
And if we answer the call to discipleship, where will it lead us? What decisions and partings will it demand? To answer this question we shall have to go to Jesus, for only he knows the answer. Only Jesus Christ, who bids us follow him, knows the journey’s end. But we do know it will be a road of boundless mercy. Discipleship means joy.
With Bonhoeffer, shall we not affirm that discipleship is our grateful response to the gift of God’s incredible love for us? Discipleship is foolish joy, giving up all in order to obtain the treasure in the field and the pearl of great price. Letting go of self-preoccupation and of lesser interests, we respond freely and joyfully to Jesus, recognizing life in the kingdom to be of such value that we would willingly cast aside all else in order to experience it.
In both parables—the parable of the treasure in the field and the parable of the costly pearl—normal routines are interrupted, customary ways of doing things are set aside, the familiar is let go of, all so that the treasure of life intimately connected with God might be embraced. The parables offer few details, yet this common theme cannot be overlooked—this willingness to sell everything for the sake of the one thing. In the first story, a worker unexpectedly discovers a great treasure, buries it, then goes and sells all that he has in order to purchase the field. And in the second parable, a merchant searching for fine pearls, upon discovering one pearl of great value, sells all that he has in order to but the costly pearl. In the first parable the treasure is totally unexpected; in the second parable the merchant is looking for fine pearls. Even so, the discovery is startling, and the merchant is willing to give up all else in order to attain that which carries uppermost value.
Do you remember Mitch Albom’s book Tuesdays with Morrie. Mitch is a successful sports writer who reconnects, nearly twenty years after graduating from college, with Morrie Schwartz. Morrie was both a professor and a mentor from Mitch’s college days—one of those rare individuals able to help us see the world as a profound and exciting place to live, one who embraced life as adventure. Now Morrie is dying, his body increasingly ravaged by Lou Gehrig’s disease, and Mitch’s book is a compilation of weekly conversations with Morrie. Morrie is still very much the mentor; indeed Morrie’s vision of life as gift only deepens as death approaches.
On one occasion Morrie lamented to his friend Mitch,
So many people walk around with a meaningless life. They seem half-asleep, even when they’re busy doing things they think are important. This is because they’re chasing the wrong things. The way you get meaning into your life is to devote yourself to loving others, devote yourself to your community around you, and devote yourself to creating something that gives you purpose and meaning.
What are you and I chasing in life? The wrong things, or the right? And what are the right things? I wonder if Jesus’ answer would not mirror that of Morrie Schwartz—devoting ourselves to loving others, to impacting the community and world around us by living lives of compassion and peace, loving kindness and grace, mercy and hope. Are we not invited to share with God in the unfolding creation of a kingdom or realm of life that brings meaning and wholeness, a life so worthy that we would joyfully abandon the familiar and the comfortable, in order to experience this life lived in the very presence of God?
Yet it’s so easy to get distracted, isn’t it? United Methodist bishop William Willimon reminds us,
In so much of life . . . trivialities elbow out matters of great magnitude. We plow our accustomed furrows. We become preoccupied with our plans and projects. Little things choke out important things. But then, in a flash of recognition, it is possible to see. Suddenly everything comes into focus, and it is then we realize the relative unimportance of that which we have chased after for so much of our lives. Then sometimes, if we’ve got the guts, we begin to move toward the treasure.
It’s the treasure of life lived with God at the center. It’s the treasure of life lived for God’s glory and the good of our neighbors. It’s the treasure that comes, as the Highland Avenue Church of the Brethren mission statement puts it, from deepening faith, proclaiming peace, embracing community, welcoming others, and serving our neighbor, in the compassionate spirit of Jesus.
Here is life worth chasing after. Here is life of foolish joy, life that makes little sense to us—until we embark upon the journey of discipleship and begin the challenging and joy-filled task of deepening our walk with God. As Morrie Schwartz reminds us, “The most important thing in life is to learn how to give out love, and to let love come in.” But that way of living demands a reversal of those values generally clung to by our culture, so much so that a life of faith, life of self-giving love, may well seem dangerously out of step. Who among us, expressing deep distress over the ever-spiraling reliance upon military solutions to the troubling issues of our day, has not been labeled a starry-eyed idealist, or sadly, perhaps more commonly, a traitor, a communist, a troublemaker, a subversvive? And yet, if the church is not willing to ask the tough questions, who will?
We live in a nation that is now spending well over one billion dollars a day on the military—some $450 billion budgeted for the Pentagon, with the figure not even including the amount spent on the war in Iraq and funds for homeland security. Yet there is never enough money for education, for hunger relief, for services for the poor, the homeless, the least in our society. Are we not chasing the wrong things?
And at a more personal level, do we not easily slip into the pursuit of greater and greater material possessions, only to discover just how elusive is this material security which ever demands more and more? One of my favorite stories told by Henri Nouwen is of a very old man who used to meditate every morning under a large tree on the bank of the Ganges River in India. One morning, having finished his meditation, the old man opened his eyes and saw a scorpion floating helplessly in the strong current of the river. As the scorpion was pulled closer to the tree, it got caught in the complex network of the tree’s roots.
Observing this, the old man immediately stretched himself onto the extended roots and reached out to rescue the drowning scorpion. But as soon as he touched it, the scorpion reacted instinctively, jerking and stinging the old man wildly. The man withdrew his hand, but then, after regaining his balance, once again stretched himself out along the roots to save the scorpion. Every time the old man came within reach, the scorpion would sting him so badly with its poisonous tale that his hand became swollen and bloody, and his face distorted with pain.
A passer-by, observing what was happening, called out, “Hey, stupid old man. What’s wrong with you? Only a fool risks his life for such an ugly useless creature. Don’t you know you may kill yourself trying to save that ungrateful scorpion?”
Slowly the old man turned to the stranger. Looking calmly in his eyes, the man said, “Friend, just because it is the nature of the scorpion to sting, why should I give up my nature to serve and to save?”
When we have encountered the treasure in the field and the pearl of great price, when we have come to know life in the kingdom of God, we take on a new set of values, a new way of living, a new level of compassion and mercy and love. We experience a foolish joy that fills us with the heart of a servant. And even when we are stung by the world around us, our joy and hope, our calling to discipleship, need not diminish.
Sisters and brothers, shall we not embrace a foolish joy, heeding the call to deepen faith, proclaim peace, embrace community, welcome others, and serve our neighbor, in the compassionate spirit of Jesus?
Pastoral Prayer
As the deer longs for flowing streams, so our souls long for you, O God. Our souls thirst for God, for the living God. With the psalmist, we acknowledge our thirsting, our aching, our yearning for deep and abiding relationship with you, holy God—you who are the Source of every good gift in life, you who are the God of abundant life and love. In moments of quietness, Creator God, hear us as we express our personal yearnings for the fullness of life you alone make possible . . .
Forgiving God, we come now confessing how easily distracted we are from that which is most important in life. We hear your call to love you whole-heartedly, and to love our neighbors as ourselves. Yet we allow petty concerns to choke out the more important. We become caught in materialism’s web, pursuing more and more possessions yet experiencing a gnawing dissatisfaction with life. O God, help us find a healthy balance in our lives. Grant us courage to walk in paths of discipleship—doing justice, proclaiming peace, loving tenderly, walking humbly in the footsteps of Jesus. Holy God, hear us now as individually we confess our need for your strength, your forgiveness, your vision, your peace . . .
God of healing, hear now our prayers for those confronted with illness, challenge, and difficulty. We hold in your light and love . . .
Loving God, you who are our heart’s desire, our strength and shield in life, we come praying for peace. We come thirsting for an end to violence and to disregard for the sanctity of human life. We are troubled by reports of senseless destruction and continuing warfare. O God, teach us the ways of peace. Fill us with the Spirit of Christ, who calls us to love and serve all manner of people, going the extra mile, turning the other cheek, correcting oppression, breaking down walls of suspicion and fear, extending arms of compassion and grace. O God, teach us your ways of peace.
We pray in the name and Spirit of Christ Jesus our Redeemer. Amen.