Sally A. Brown, Professor Emerita, Princeton Theological Seminary
Today’s gospel text, Mt 13:31-33, 44-52, is densely packed. Each of the five parables in these verses begins “the kingdom of heaven is like;” each presents a unique situation and plot. Also included in today’s reading is a brief interchange between Jesus and his disciples, which contains yet another simile for the disciples (and the church through history) to puzzle out. Taking up just one or two of the parables yields plenty of material for a sermon. One’s choice is best guided by pastoral considerations in one’s congregational context.
The first four parables comprise two related pairs. The mustard bush and yeast parables have in common mind-stretching features: each treats positively a common substance widely considered undesirable by Jesus’ listeners. Mustard was a nuisance in any field; one would never encourage it to mature. Yeast represented deceit; invisibly, it could ruin the unleavened dough of Jewish ritual meals (see Mt 16:5). Second, astounding growth occurs in each of these vignettes. Grown from a tiny seed, the enormous mustard bush provides shade and shelter for birds. Adding leaven, a woman produces dough to feed a village. In the kingdom of heaven, things (and persons!) routinely despised become instruments to nourish life abundantly. A preacher’s task will be to gesture toward that in the congregation’s own time and place which is routinely disregarded or despised, and to imagine these becoming by divine design sources of wisdom and abundance for multitudes.
The second pair of parables (treasure, pearl) is disturbing: the main actors and/or actions are questionable, perhaps even a-moral. Found treasure is kept secret from the field’s owner . . . or is this unclaimed land, unsuitable for farming? We’re offered no such reassuring detail. As for the wealthy pearl merchant, his sort have not appeared among Jesus’ prime candidates for the kingdom of heaven so far (children, the unlearned, known sinners, the poor). We need to refrain from overworking these parables; these sketches are not allegories, each detail crucial. Rather, one action or feature claims our attention. In each of these, only the one who seeks, finds; and each presents an act of life-altering renunciation for the sake of one thing of incomparable value.
The final verses of the pericope offer another point of departure for preaching. The parable of the dragnet is an echo of the parable of wheat and weeds, thus emphasizing the eschatological horizon against which all of these parables are cast. Then Jesus leaves his disciples with a riddle, urging them to rethink all they believe they know. Those who would discern the reign of heaven must proceed carefully. Sometimes wisdom will be found in the ancient reservoirs; but then there shall be the moments when they must allow precedent to be swept aside by that which—like Jesus’ parables—is uncomfortably new. This has been the Church’s path for centuries. The contours of the kingdom of heaven still emerge, sometimes ringing familiar notes from the deep past, at other times, taking us by surprise.