The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which someone found and hid; then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field (Matt 13:44).

You remember two weeks ago when I talked about the parable of the sower, and about how parables in general work? Well, today’s reading in Matthew is actually a continuation of that same chapter. I told you then that parables take many forms: some are longer narratives, like the sower and the grain, and some are just one sentence, like the five we hear today. All the parables of Jesus are wonderful, insightful, and challenging gems of Scripture, and these tiny ones today shine with brilliance. As I said, the purpose of a parable is to surprise us and invite us to see things from a different perspective, and from that new vantage point to look back at ourselves and see how we might change our own lives in response.

There is a difficulty for us here, however, because over the years we have domesticated, tamed, the parables. Take today’s parables—they seem to be about growth. We read the church into them, and in a self-congratulatory way, we think, “Oh yes! The church is the small mustard seed that grows into the mighty tree…the church is the little bit of yeast that will grow and lift up the world. We read ourselves into them, and, in a self-congratulatory way, we think, “Oh yes! Going to heaven when we die is the hidden treasure, the pearl of great price, and it’s worth everything we have to get there.” We’re sort of proud of ourselves for “getting it,” and maybe we even give thanks that we must be part of those “predestined” that Paul talked about in today’s Romans reading. Nothing much surprising about that, really.

But I promise you, when we’re not hearing something shocking and surprising in a parable, then we’re like those Jesus said who have ears but do not hear. Let’s look again.

“The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed that someone took and sowed in his field”…The middle eastern mustard plant is a shrub, not a tree. It germinates quickly and spreads without control, mixing in with all the other different kinds of plants around it. And so, Jewish purity rules did not allow mustard seeds to be spread around in the field—it had to be contained and controlled, because it was scandalous, illegitimate, and unclean to have it combining with everything around it. The traditional view throughout the Old Testament was that God’s kingdom was like the tall, mighty, powerful cedar trees of Lebanon—Jesus says God’s kingdom is just the opposite. More than that, God’s kingdom even springs up in what were considered illegitimate ways. An unruly garden herb is more like our King, who rules through meekness and rides a donkey instead of a war horse, than a great Cedar of Lebanon tree is.

“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”…In the tradition of Jewish Scripture, yeast is almost always a symbol of corruption—in just three chapters away Jesus tells his disciples, “Watch out, and beware of the yeast of the Pharisees and Sadducees.” The woman “hides” the contaminating yeast in “three measures” of flour—that’s 10 gallons, enough to feed 150 people! The point is not that the coming of God’s kingdom is like the gradual process of bread rising, but rather the surprising abundance that comes even from what is typically considered tainted means.

“The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which someone found and hid; then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field. Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls; on finding one pearl of great value, he went and sold all that he had and bought it”… Your way of understanding this is I’m guessing like mine; it places us in the role of the finders. We see the treasure that is God’s kingdom; we do what it takes to possess it. We read ourselves into the story as the ones who do that action. But remember the point of a parable is to see with new eyes and hear with new ears…Here’s something very interesting: when you meditate on this parable with a group of people who have been at the bottom, who know what it means to suffer and be outcast—for example, when you meditate on it with those addicted to alcohol or drugs—you hear from them a different perspective. “The kingdom of heaven is like a treasure hidden in a field, like a pearl of great value, and someone sold all they had to buy it…” What you hear from this group is, “I am the treasure, dirt-covered and hidden in the mud. I am the pearl of great price, and Jesus gave all that he had to buy me for himself.” They understand that Jesus is the one who does the action—not us. They understand our great worth is because of Jesus’ great love for us. The grace of the kingdom is given, not earned.

The hope and joy expressed in these parables of the kingdom is the in-the-face-of-insurmountable-obstacles hope of the outcast and the oppressed. When Jesus asked those listening to him, “Have you understood all this?” they answered, “Yes” because Jesus was speaking to people who knew their only hope could be found in God and God’s kingdom that Jesus brings. They knew they were without power, without the ability to save themselves and without the ability to fix their world—only God can do that. And God does it, Jesus says, in very unexpected, surprising, even scandalous ways. God’s mighty works are with and for and among the unclean and insignificant.

This is why the lectionary ties these parables with the breathtaking passage from Romans 8: “The Spirit helps us in our weakness…that very Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words…If God is for us, who is against us?… Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will hardship, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?…For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

In Matthew (which was written for a Jewish audience), the word “heaven” stands in for the word “God,” which was too sacred to be printed and spoken, and the word “kingdom” represents not a separate place but the rule of God’s dynamic activity—the reign of God. In Jesus’ parables you will not find kings and merchant princes, no emperors no generals, no revolutionary leaders…just tenant farmers, and housewife bakers, and fishermen, doing their everyday work. Jesus, the literal King of Heaven, doesn’t point to himself when he says, “the kingdom of heaven is like this…”—Jesus points to the most common things in the world—this world—this day-to-day world that, it turns out, embodies and participates in the joining of sacred and mundane, divine and human. If only we have eyes that see and ears that hear, Jesus says, we would know that the reign of God is open to us now—we would know that the kingdom of heaven is in our midst.

Jesus says that God’s realm is not far away in the sweet by-and-by, but as close as the bush in the garden or the loaf of bread on the table—or the bread on this altar. It is as close to us as our own breath. It comes to us in unexpected places through unexpected people and even, sometimes in seemingly unsacred ways. My prayer this week is that you will see and hear and welcome the surprising nearness of God’s kingdom, and that, even in times of hardships or trials or sadness or sickness or depression, you can be assured that nothing—nothing—can separate you from the love, and the loving presence, of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.