A Glimpse of the Kingdom of God - Redeemer Episcopal Church

Matthew 13:31-33, 44-52

31 He told them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed, which a man took and planted in his field. 32 Though it is the smallest of all seeds, yet when it grows, it is the largest of garden plants and becomes a tree, so that the birds come and perch in its branches.”

33 He told them still another parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like yeast that a woman took and mixed into about sixty pounds of flour until it worked all through the dough.”

44 “The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field. When a man found it, he hid it again, and then in his joy went and sold all he had and bought that field.

45 “Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant looking for fine pearls. 46 When he found one of great value, he went away and sold everything he had and bought it.

47 “Once again, the kingdom of heaven is like a net that was let down into the lake and caught all kinds of fish. 48 When it was full, the fishermen pulled it up on the shore. Then they sat down and collected the good fish in baskets, but threw the bad away. 49 This is how it will be at the end of the age. The angels will come and separate the wicked from the righteous 50 and throw them into the blazing furnace, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.

51 “Have you understood all these things?” Jesus asked.

“Yes,” they replied.

52 He said to them, “Therefore every teacher of the law who has become a disciple in the kingdom of heaven is like the owner of a house who brings out of his storeroom new treasures as well as old.”

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This sermon was originally preached by me on July 22, 2020 for our pre-recorded July 26, 2020 worship service. You can read the sermon below, listen to the sermon here, or watch the whole service at this link. 

Let us pray: 

God of small, insignificant things, help us to see how your love and action in the world makes all things into an abundant part of the Kingdom of God. Amen. 

Around this time last year, our director for youth ministry Hannah recommended a new book to me: Love Does by Bob Goff. The premise of the book is that love and grace are more than warm fuzzy feelings, they can actually be active in the world and when they are, the world changes. The author tells his stories of seeing the love and grace of others in action and being a mobilizer of love and grace in his own world. It’s a charming book, but I think I got more out of the title than anything else. Love does. Love as an action. Love does something. 

That’s the theme we see in this seemingly sort of disjointed gospel text this morning. The Kingdom of God is love in action. 

Jesus spends much of his time on earth teaching the disciples and the crowds who gather around him. And when he’s teaching, he talks a lot about what the Kingdom of God is like. He describes the Kingdom of God, not so we can imagine a place up in the sky that we call heaven. To be honest, if that’s what he he’s doing, he’s not doing a very good job. If the Kingdom of God is a place, it doesn’t sound that nice— a mustard bush? A fishing net? I was hoping for something a bit more regal. 

No, The Kingdom of God is not a place we go when we die. Jesus tells us about the Kingdom of God as a movement. The kingdom of God is not so much a place as it is an action. The kingdom of God is like a growing mustard seed, fermenting yeast, hidden treasure, looking for pearls, and throwing nets. Just like love, the kingdom of God does.

Jesus describes the action of the Kingdom of God so that we might recognize it when we encounter it today. When we see love and grace in action, we can point to it and say, “this is a glimpse of the Kingdom of God.” When we take actions that show love for our neighbor, whether they are big like a fishing net or small like a mustard seed, whether they are common like yeast or rare like pearls, we can point to it and say, “this is a glimpse of the Kingdom of God.” 

I’ve seen so many of these glimpses over the past few weeks here in this community. There have been tiny bits of yeast coming together to create loaves of bread that feed hundreds of people. I’ve seen it in what God is doing through the food pantry. People are relentlessly devoted to coming out in the heat, putting their own health at risk to be a part of something holy and grace-filling in this world. 

I’ve seen tiny mustard seeds grow into shelter for those who need it most. A couple weeks ago, a student in our campus ministry contacted me and said that she was going through a rough patch and needed help paying her rent for campus housing. Within hours of reaching out to our community, we had received a grant and over $600 in donations. Now, not only can we keep that student from being evicted, but we now have a fund to make sure all of our students are housed and fed this fall. 

I see people wearing masks to protect one another, even when they are uncomfortable and hot. Our campus ministry students have been reaching out to one another to check in and make sure they are doing okay. 

Despite these things seeming small on their own, when God works in them, they become bread for the hungry and shelter for the homeless. Even in these last few weeks, I’ve seen what grace does. I’ve seen what love does. I’ve seen what the kingdom of God does. 

And while I think it is our call as God’s people to continue joining in the work of the Kingdom of God, to continue what God started in Christ Jesus here on earth, I also think that perhaps what the world needs right now is for us to notice God working. And point to it emphatically. 

Pastor of the Garden Church and writer of the book This is God’s Table, Anna Woofenden writes about this very thing: “Maybe the work of the religious is not to be gatekeepers and jury,… Instead, maybe our job is to pay attention to how God is moving in the world, to God with us, and to how all creation is holy. Maybe our task is to be the heralds and cultivators of our time.” Perhaps our call is to recognize God’s work in the world and point to it. 

But we have to be looking for it. Mustard seeds and pearls are small. Yeast is barely noticeable when mixed in with the rest of the dough. Treasure is hidden. Fishing nets are seemingly nothing special. Yet God uses them to point to the Kingdom, God uses them in the movement toward love and reconciliation. God takes seemingly small, insignificant things and creates abundance, creates a movement into which we are invited. It’s the same thing that God does in the waters of baptism, a few drops of water and the work of the Holy Spirit becomes new, everlasting life in Christ. It’s what God does with each small thing we offer to God— abundance and love. It’s the Kingdom of God. Amen. 

Reclaiming our Stories: Potiphar's Wife

By Jennifer Roberts 

Read more of Potiphar's Wife's story: Genesis 39

Prayer: Holy One, all creation bears the story of your love and grace. Forgive us when we do not stop to hear the stories of others, when we do not share space for your story to continue to be written. Give us eyes to see, ears to hear, and hearts that are open to your image and your story in and through all of creation. In the name of Jesus Christ, who bore the story of forgiveness and grace in his very body for us. Amen. 

When I first told my spouse that I would be writing a devotional about Potiphar’s wife for a devotional series on Reclaiming the Stories of Women in the Bible, he was flabbergasted that Potiphar’s wife would be included among these other women. “How are you going to talk about a woman who tries to seduce another man?” he asked. Admittedly, I was not sure how this was going to go, but being stubborn I insisted that it could be done and that she was simply misunderstood. Secretly, however, I laid in bed that night begging the Spirit to figure something out and quick! 

Reading this story over and over again on a surface level, it seems very obvious that there is a person in the wrong and a person in the right. This story begins giving great detail about the relationship that Joseph has with God. And it’s not just favor with God that Joseph has, but favor with his Egyptian master, Potiphar. This story sets the reader up to see Joseph as a man who is a humble servant, while setting Potiphar’s wife up as a tricky woman who waits on her husband to leave before sneaking up on her prey. And while I am not suggesting that Joseph did anything wrong, I am suggesting that we have been given the gift of Joseph’s story; insight into a favor that has placed him on the right side, leaving the seat on the wrong side wide open for Potiphar’s wife. 

The gift of someone’s story is sacred. 

Yet, Potiphar’s wife doesn’t even have a name in this story, much less a space to be vulnerable and offer the gift of her own story. And the little space that she has been given is occupied by the imaginations of all those who will read this story on the surface level without stopping to ask questions about what she’s been through, how she sees the world, and where she will end up. Her story may contain truths that have left her neglected, longing for companionship and attention that has not been given to her by her absent husband. 

Additionally, it may be that in this story the character the author seeks to display is one that our own society has long burdened women with as they seek to have their voices heard, to have their stories believed, and who remain nameless, which creates just enough space that men who wish to excuse their behavior have called themselves Joseph and given Potiphar’s wife the name of their victim – wielding the power of their story against those who have long had to fight for their own.

Stories are not only sacred, but they hold power. God is calling each of us to hear the stories of those around us and to find the image of the Divine in them. And not only that, we have a baptismal call to be caretakers of these stories – listening carefully, looking for who has been given power and who has not, and offering the space to hear more, reserving judgment until we too have been willing to share our own. When the gifts of stories are exchanged we often find that we have more in common than we do different and that stories are not always as they seem until we are willing to be vulnerable with one another. 

Your story is sacred. 

Your story has power. 

May your story be known and believed in its fullness, because your story is part of God’s story!

Amen.

Reclaiming our Stories: Tamar

By The Rev. Victoria L. Hamilton

Read more of Tamar's story in Genesis 38  

Tamar is introduced into this text by way of marriage to one of Judah’s son’s, Er. … Er was not an honest man, in the sight of God, and was put to death by God. (vs7). After his death, Judah then instructed his second son, Onan, to “go to your brother’s wife and perform the duty of a brother in law, and raise up any offspring as his (deceased) brother’s. (vs 8). Onan, didn’t quite like that idea, & let his sperm spill on the ground, … And God,  displeased, put him to death also. Tamar was then promised to the youngest son, Shelah, when he became of age, but, and until that time, Tamar was sent back to her fathers home.

Now, good people, I read through this and the preceding and following chapters a couple times. I, myself, was taken aback trying to put myself in that situation. It seems as though, the irony of the culture of the day, sounds a bit like trafficking! Abuse of some kind or another.  Women’s rights were not the topic or concern of the day. How women really felt about their own culture, I do not know and wonder... Legal, but … what say you?  How does this structure sound to you? If you were to meet Tamar today, and she came to confide in you, How might you, in today’s mindset, encourage her? Does this sound like a - Let’s call Hubbard House or another agency that might help and give counsel, funds, clothes, a place to stay …??   Do you know  a “Tamar”? 

Time passed when she, Tamar, learned that her father-in-law, Judah, was coming to town, for business. She positioned herself on the road, ‘to see’ that Shelah was now grown; and there was an exchange between she and Judah!! Conversation and a sexual exchange. No, he did not recognize her.…The younger son had not been given to her, or her to him; Tamar accepted her father-in-law's “request” to sleep with her. (Lawd! or Lord, have mercy!) 

For insurance sake (my words), she asked for items from Judah, a signet (small seal set inside a ring, that shows authenticity or identification of the owner), a cord and his staff.

Sometimes as women, we are not seen, thought to be intelligent, or considered as equal … In what ways do you see women or yourself as Not Being Seen? .. Where or how have you "Positioned yourself" to make a wrong right? Do you know others who may have "positioned themselves" to right a wrong? .. i.e. at work, in your family, at church, family conversations, school. Was it a hard decision to stand up for yourself or another? Tamar saw promises not kept and sought to make them right. Where has that happened in your life or the life of others? What promises have been made to women, (man or child), that have not been kept OR are trying to be rescinded? What, if anything, are our insurances?

More time passes when Judah hears that Tamar is pregnant, and was being called a whore because the town knew she was a widow. Jumping in haste, Judah calls for her to be “burned” (vs24). Tamar is able to save herself by showing the signet, cord and staff to Judah, who then recognized his own (initial) faults and spared her life. He had broken his promise to her, to give her to his 3rd son, Shelah, in marriage.

How quickly we sometimes jump to conclusions about a person or persons in our society at large.  Are women still being “burned,” to be silenced or eliminated? How do you see or feel that happening? In today’s climate, where might you see that happening? Do you see resolutions? Who needs to be at the table? Can morals that are taught, that sometimes seek to destroy, be amended? Can conversation REALLY happen? Action? How could our lives be more understanding today? Is forgiveness a factor?

Tamar stayed in the town of her father and gave birth to twins, boys, Perez and Zerah. One twin, Zerah, was making his entrance into the world, was marked by a crimson, red thread, by the midwife, on his hand, and drew it back; the second twin, Perez was then born first.

Tamar was the "host" to bring these young people into the world. There will be huge differences between these brothers in the future. How do we set up our children, to be who they will become as adults?  What, in you, has sustained you, that you hope to share with your children, grandchildren and others?  I was "host" to two children, and  have been a surrogate "host" (Mama/Ma as I’m called), spiritually, physically, and mentally for many many many, young people. 

As Tamar was blessed, I was blessed, and have been able to see the growth of many young people, not just my birth children. All of them are different, but GOD provides much more than I’m capable of on my own. As we travel through this life, let’s remember that we are not traveling alone. That sometimes we need to reach out to others, while other times we may need to stand alone fighting for the injustices/justices within us and around us. My thoughts and prayers are with each of us as we reach deep inside ourselves and find strength, courage, patience, and encouragement to do that which is right by others, but especially because that is a call from God. 

Reclaiming our Stories: Dinah

By Sarah Locke

Read more of Dinah's story: Genesis 34

Now Dinah, the daughter Leah had borne to Jacob, went out to visit the women of the land. When Shechem son of Hamor the Hivite, the ruler of that area, saw her, he took her and raped her. His heart was drawn to Dinah daughter of Jacob; he loved the young woman and spoke tenderly to her. And Shechem said to his father Hamor, “Get me this girl as my wife” (Genesis 34:1-4).

It feels like I've opened every Bible study with comments about how each of these women are pawns in someone else's story. Dinah does not seem to be much different. 

Dinah is the only daughter mentioned of all of Jacob's children. She is Leah's daughter, the youngest of Leah's children. Her fate is similar to what we might expect, given the stories that we have already read throughout Genesis. She went out to visit with some women, she is raped by a powerful man, he demands that she become his wife. The narrative is a bit different after this, though, as her brothers seem to be protective of her. So they devise a plan to vindicate her, killing all of the Shechemites while they are sore from circumcision. Jacob is furious with his sons, fearing that he will be despised throughout the country because of what they have done. But the brothers still defend their sister, saying "should he have our sister treated like a prostitute?" 

Dinah's story is told as a warning for women: if you go out in public, especially with other women, you might be raped. It is much better, then, to stay in the privacy and protection of your own home, relying on your family and especially the men in your family to protect you and make decisions for you. 

Of course this is not much different from much of what we teach young girls today. When I went to college, my dad gave me a taser and pepper spray, claiming that I would need to defend myself against men who would want to harm me. I don't remember my parents remarking much about my clothing as I grew up, but I often heard my friends and classmates remark that a girl was "asking for it" in the way that she dressed. Before I entered college, I was given an array of ways to protect myself (apparently from the ever-present threat of men) when I'm leaving work: 

• Don't enter an elevator occupied by a single man. 
• Don't park in a public garage, there are too many hiding places for predators. Park on a well-lit street. 
• Always take your keys out of your bag before you leave your workplace so you don't have to hesitate outside. 
• Put your keys between your fingers so you can slash at someone if they attack you. 
• Always have your phone out in case you need to fake a phone call with someone. This will sometimes stop a person from following you. (There are even videos for this exact purpose.) 
• Lock your car as soon as you get inside. 
• If a cop pulls you over, put on your blinkers and get to a well-lit area, preferably with lots of people around. If you can't, keep your blinkers on and call the dispatcher to confirm there are police in the area in case it is someone posing as a cop, preying on women. 
• Take a woman-specific self-defense course. 
• Don't ever respond to a person catcalling you, especially when you are alone.  

If these seem ridiculous or overboard, I'd recommend chatting with your sister, wife, girlfriend, mom, daughter, or woman coworker. There is a whole other set of rules about going out at night to a restaurant or bar. (They are actually marketing to our fear now-- click here for an example of what women can put on their cups so they won't be drugged.)

Women are taught to fear being in public spaces, especially alone. Dinah's story is often used as a cautionary tale against leaving the protection of your (man-centered) family. It is important to note that the only part of the story that gives Dinah any agency is the very beginning: "Dinah... went out..." For the rest of the story, she had things done to her. For many, this emphasizes that when women are given choices and agency, only terrible things can come from it. Her rape, commentators imply, was her own fault for leaving her family and cavorting with other women in town. 

Questions to consider: 
If you are a woman, what kind of "rules" do you follow to stay safe? 
If you are a man, do you follow any of these same "rules?" 
If we are called to both mercy (responding to violence against women) and justice (preventing violence against women), what is the call of God's people?  

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"Dear daddy, I will be born a girl. Please do everything you can so that won't stay the greatest danger of all."

The following video is graphic and contains strong language. However, it is poignant and speaks volumes about the issues women face today. For more statistics about violence again women, visit the Rape, Abuse, & Incest National Network (RAINN) website. 

Labels & Boxes - Redeemer Episcopal Church

Matthew 11:16-30 New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)

16 “But to what will I compare this generation? It is like children sitting in the marketplaces and calling to one another,

17 ‘We played the flute for you, and you did not dance;
    we wailed, and you did not mourn.’

18 For John came neither eating nor drinking, and they say, ‘He has a demon’; 19 the Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, ‘Look, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!’ Yet wisdom is vindicated by her deeds.”

25 At that time Jesus said, “I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and the intelligent and have revealed them to infants; 26 yes, Father, for such was your gracious will. 27 All things have been handed over to me by my Father; and no one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son chooses to reveal him.

28 “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30 For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

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I preached this sermon for our pre-recorded Morning Prayer for July 5, 2020 at Redeemer Episcopal Church in Jacksonville, Florida. It is preached to a specific people in a specific time and place, but I believe that God can transcend that and I hope it might also speak to you. You can listen to the raw recording of the sermon here.

If you are one of my friends who forced me to go to Chick-fil-A that day in seminary, then I'm still kind of mad at you because Chick-fil-A has trash politics. And also lol, I was so pretentious back then (still am). 

One of my favorite stories from seminary was one of the first times my husband and I spent time off campus. We went to a fast food restaurant with a few other people we barely knew, and started chatting like new friends do. Everyone was asking different questions rapid fire about each other’s lives: are you a liberal or conservative, where are you from, what denomination are you, were you a camp counselor, did you attend campus ministry? 

These were all questions that were seemingly innocuous, but had a very specific purpose. They would put each of us in a certain “box.” Each question said enough about the one answering to allow everyone else to make broad assumptions about them. I got quiet during parts of the conversation and Daniel asked why. “I don’t like labels,” I said, “I’d rather people just get to know me instead of putting me in some kind of box.” 

It has been seven or so years since that conversation, but Daniel, my husband, brings it up every so often when I label myself in some way. “I thought you hated labels” he’ll say. “No,” I reply, “I hate the box.” 

Right before the gospel text we hear this morning, Jesus has instructed his twelve disciples and sent them on their way. Then John the Baptizer, who is in jail, sends word that Jesus is out preaching and sends all of his followers to go listen to him. John’s disciples question Jesus and Jesus sends them back to John, telling them to tell John everything they’d heard and seen: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them.

Then Jesus begins speaking to the crowds that had gathered around him. This is where our reading for this morning picks up: right in the middle of Jesus’ teaching. He seems annoyed that people continue to question him and John the Baptizer, even though the people had seen great signs being performed by these men. Still they doubted. But why? 

It’s easy for us to see, 2000 years removed, that Jesus was fulfilling all sorts of prophecies, so it’s unfathomable that the people wouldn’t believe that he was the Son of God. But people had… expectations of the messiah. When someone came with the label “messiah,” there was a box that people put him in. 

“What is the messiah supposed to look like?” Jesus asks. John came and lives an austere lifestyle: he didn’t eat or drink like an old-school prophet and people doubted him— more than that, they said he had a demon!

Then on the other hand, Jesus came and ate and drank and gathered with sinners and people called him a glutton and a drunkard. 

What then, was the messiah supposed to look like? Jesus asks. 

Jesus seems a bit frustrated by being forced into box because of who he associates with and people’s pre-judgements about who the messiah is. He calls the crowd foolish children playing in the market. 

They cannot see the truth that is right in front of them. The truth of Jesus’ true identity. 

I think about all of the ways people are misunderstood today due to stereotypes. We assume we know something based on a tiny detail, like where she grew up or where they went to school, or their gender or his age or the color of his skin— any number of things that do not capture the complexity of how we are as individuals. And these stereotypes that we assign to people, these boxes that we put them into based on these small aspects of their lives, can be dangerous. At the very least, it takes away from the unique child that God knit as an individual. And in some cases it leads to discrimination and violence, it has even led to the genocide of entire peoples. 

In Jesus’ case, the assumptions that his community and the religious authorities made about him led to his arrest and death. Because they didn’t recognize Jesus for who he really was— a child of God, THE child of God, the messiah.

How often do we do this? Pre-judging people for the company that they keep, the color of their skin, their sexual orientation, or where they are from. How often has it lead to deep and abiding pain in our community, our country, and our world? 

Yet Jesus says that wisdom is vindicated by her deeds. 

And we worship a God who DID something. We worship a God who broke all of the preconceived notions of a deity and become flesh in the form of a tiny baby to a poor unknown family. We worship a God who threw off the labels of the world and gave sight to the blind, healed the sick, cleansed the lepers, raised the dead, and brought good news to the poor. We worship a God who takes the stereotypical and prejudiced boxes of this world, turns them upside down, and smashes them to bits. 

We worship a God who peels away the labels of our lives, peels away the labels that we have given ourselves and the ones that have been forced upon us. And declares that the labels of this world are nothing. And we worship the God who took nothing… and made everything. 

God, who created the entire expanse of the universe washes us so completely the waters of baptism and then declares, “You are my beloved. You are my child. Look at what I have done for you.”

And then God invites us into the story. To look beyond the boxes of sin, death, and the devil and begin to imagine and understand the world that God has promised to us and has begun in us through Christ Jesus. A world without labels or boxes, except the only true one identity that matters: you are a child a God. Amen.