A Chosen Smallness--July 27, 2020

A Chosen Smallness--July 27, 2020

Jesus told them another parable: "The kingdom of heaven is like yeast that a woman took and mixed in with three measures of flour until all of it was leavened." [Matthew 13:33]

The smallness is not a defect.  The quietness is not a liability.  The ordinariness is not a sign of unimportance, but of just how vital a thing can be to the miracle that is life in this world.  These are the things Jesus chooses to describe how God's Reign permeates all of the universe--like yeast hidden in the flour that will become this evening's bread... like a tiny seed planted in the soil... like the unassuming labor of a someone farming or baking.

We tend to assume the loudest, the largest, or the showiest things are the most important.  And, to be sure, when it comes to making bread, of course, the flour is essential, too.  But the yeast does something amazing precisely in its smallness.  It gives itself up to make the rest of the bread (all the non-yeast ingredients, like, say, those three measures of flour) more like itself.  The yeast's self-surrender makes the bread into bread.  And its smallness allows it to do that. Reverse the proportions, say, with three cups of yeast to one pinch of flour, and you would have a disaster, not dinner.  

It seems important that Jesus chooses images like yeast to give us glimpses of how God's Reign operates in world.  He is never sloppy with his illustrations; he never blurts out an analogy only to have to re-think it later.  So if he is intentional in his storytelling, that means the smallness and the quietness are not only purposeful choices in his parable, but that they are purposeful on God's part, too.  It means that God chooses to reign in the world in quiet ways.  It means that God's ego does not need to be the showiest, or the flashiest, or the loudest... it means that God is willing to work without getting credit for it--that the work itself is worth doing, regardless of whether we properly applaud God for the labor.  A farmer, after all, keeps planting the crops even if the neighbors don't give a standing ovation--the work is worth doing, because the family and neighborhood need to be fed.  The woman who heads the household bakes the family's bread even when she is taken for granted by the family and the kids just assume there will be food for their bellies, and she does it, without waiting for praise, because she loves them and wills what is good for them.

The smallness of the yeast, and the quietness of the mixing, these are the choices God makes as well in reigning over the universe.  And maybe that even changes our assumptions about what it means to "reign."  If we assume that leadership requires loud boasting or showy pageantry, we'll miss the point of what it means to talk about God's kind of reign or kingdom.  But a farmer is clearly the "leader" who orders and directs things in the farm, and the Mama of the house is clearly charged with being the head of her household, and yet they do their work behind the scenes.  Their leadership does not require saluting nor fanfare, but rather looks like self-giving love, love that is secure and confident enough in itself that it does not need constant approval from others.

And this is the key, Jesus says, to how God rules the universe.  God is not at all like the arrogant Caesars whose images were carved all around the world during the days of Jesus.  Nor does Almighty not need buildings built in God's honor, monuments erected for God's glory, or God's name chiseled in stone.  It turns out, according to Jesus, that God continues to provide for the life of all creation--like a farmer planting the food his family and friends will eat at harvest, or like a matriarch of the household baking quietly in the early morning--simply because of God's love and care for all the world.  This is what God's reign looks like: not the flashy, brutal spectacle of the Roman Empire, but the way a mother heads up her household by making decision and doing the work to feed her children.  It is strong, without being coercive.  It is leadership without arrogance.  It is vital work without needing to be loud or noticeable.

This is how God runs the world.  And if we will be people of this God, then, we are free from needing to make ourselves look tough or strong or powerful or to get fanfare for the good work to which we are called.  We can simply do the good things we are made for, just because it is worth doing, and because we love the people for whom we do them.  We can spend the time, the energy, and the attention today, just because the world God loves needs our labor... so that all may be fed.

You bear the under-the-radar signs of God's reign into the world today.  Let your mere presence in the world be a reflection of God's goodness.  And whether anybody knows to give you credit or praise for it, let your presence in the world make a difference for good today.  That's what the Kingdom is all about.

O God, work for good in your world in us and through us today.