"The Kingdom of Heaven Is Like..."

So you probably noticed that we're in the part of Matthew now where Jesus tells a whole lot of parables. It's like Jesus warmed up his audience with the parable of the sower where he stopped to explain what it means, and then he ratcheted this parable thing up a little more with last week's parable of the weeds, and then today he lets loose a rapid-fire series of parables that he ends by turning to his disciples and saying, "Have you understood all this?" The text says "they answered, 'Yes" but I kind of wonder if they answered "Yes .... ?" (Matt. 13:51) And then just right after the gospel reading ends, it's written "When Jesus had finished these parables, he left that place" (Matt. 13:53). Jesus mic drop.

Is Jesus trying to be confusing? No, quite the opposite actually. He throws out six different parables to describe the kingdom of heaven that speak to different kinds of listeners in different ways but that convey the same message. It reminds me of the Beatitudes from Matthew 5 that way. Jesus sees the crowd of listeners and helps each one understand the magnitude and mystery of the kingdom of heaven in a way that speaks their language. He speaks to the farmers, the cooks, the merchants, the investors, the fishermen, and the scribes. He speaks to men and women, rich and poor, those who get it and those who still don't understand. And to each of them, he says - in different ways - that the kingdom of heaven seems hidden but is right there in our midst. The kingdom of heaven emerges from seemingly ordinary things that hold infinite potential for transformation.

Notice that Jesus doesn't use parables that set the kingdom of heaven out there. The kingdom of heaven isn't situated in the abstract or up in the sky. Jesus uses images from this life, from this world, to describe heaven. It's in the birds nesting in a shrub, a woman's hands in the dough, a treasure buried in a field, a single pearl, in the diversity of life flourishing in the sea, and in a wise and gracious host. In each parable, Jesus paints a picture of discovery in this life. He asks us to look deeper and recognize heaven in the everyday. To see what we see and then look underneath that to see what is hidden and to question our expectations. Do we expect a tiny seed to be able to support an entire ecosystem? flow could just a little bit of yeast hidden in flour create fluffy loaves of bread? What do we treasure and how do we respond to finding it?

I think Jesus is inviting us to reexamine the things that we consider ordinary and peer at how God is working within and through them to create the kingdom of heaven within our midst.

And when I think back to my eleven months as Zoar's Intern Pastor, I can't help but think of all the times I witnessed the kingdom of heaven right here - when I was transformed by love within this community that I think most of you thought was ordinary but felt extraordinary to me. I'm pretty sure it was my first Sunday in September when you all were handing out clips with purple hair to show solidarity with Carolyn as she started chemo. The whole church was filled with purple-haired people simply because one of your beloveds needed support. I wonder if the kingdom of heaven is like a purple hair extension worn somewhat ridiculously and completely unabashedly to let a loved one know she is never alone.

Then in October, I had the honor of assisting Pr. Michelle with the baptism of Abel, Leon, and Grayson, Frances and Ed's great grandchildren, who happen to have two awesome moms. I know that Zoar's history in becoming Reconciling in Christ was fraught with pain and division. I know that there is grief for those treasured members who opted to worship elsewhere. And yet, the joy in the congregation when those three boys were baptized was palpable. One of the great things about leading worship is that I get to see your faces and when those boys were baptized, your pride shone like the sun. I think the kingdom of heaven is like water that carries God's dream for every single being to belong completely.

And later in the fall, a stranger posted on Facebook that she wanted to attend worship at Zoar but needed a ride from the park. It seems relatively ordinary - a simple request for a ride - but took tremendous courage from both Susan who asked for it and from Marilyn and Paul who said, "we're happy to take her". Both parties' willingness to be vulnerable and trust the Spirit enabled Susan to become a beloved member of the Zoar community. Perhaps the kingdom of heaven is like a ride cheerfully given to a stranger that leads into the embrace of a loving community.

And then there was my daughter, Margo's, surgery in December when I asked for understanding and grace because I didn't know what to expect and we were afraid. I told you all that her surgery would be hard and her recovery difficult. Without hesitation, you each offered to pray for her. Jacque told me that she prayed for Margo while pressure washing her driveway. You all held her in your hearts and wrote her cards even though you didn't know her. Maybe the kingdom of heaven is like a steady stream of prayer-filled get-well cards, opened by a hurting child to remind her that healing is possible.

During holy week, you all introduced me to your Easter traditions. You all showed up for Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter Sunday services. On Good Friday, I held my rock and wept with you all as we entered into mourning for our Savior. I walked alongside you and laid my rock down at the foot of the cross, sniffling and wiping tears for the burden I released and for the hope of Easter revelation. On Saturday morning, I was astonished by the generosity of both candy and spirit you all showed for every child who came to your epic Easter Egg Hunt.

And then there was the Easter brunch, where I was enveloped in joy as we were nourished by casseroles and laughter before celebrating the miracle of the resurrection. I wonder if the kingdom of heaven is like the joy that bubbles over from authentically being in community. A joy that can backfill the void left from broken-hearted sorrow.

And then, just a few weeks ago, there was Camp Lutherwood where I was humbled and transformed by the infinite potential of Zoar's confirmands. Pr.

Michelle and I had been tasked with teaching the last lesson of camp. Despite our careful planning and preparation, the session was way-laid by other things running over, by unclear instructions, and by exhausted campers and leaders. It really didn't go as I was hoping and I was frustrated. But we soldiered on and at the end of the lesson, Pr. Michelle talked about how her spiritual energy had been drained by a series of events from the previous week. She used glasses of water to demonstrate and ran out of water to give with each story. And while we had planted pastors to come refill her cup with their own water, only one had actually shown up. But then Kayla unexpectedly came forward and poured from her water bottle to fill Pr. Michelle's empty pitcher. And then another camper came and then another. I hope that the kingdom of heaven is like a parade of empathy poured out generously to keep one another whole.

I could go on and on with stories from this last year when I witnessed seemingly minor acts that held tremendous transformational power. The salad from Community Dinner that comes from a dream for a Zoar garden. Or the Zoomers who join us every week and expand our worshiping community in ways unimaginable just a few years ago. Or the joy that Myron and Marlena bring each week when they dance during hymns. I'm convinced that heaven is here, right now, we just need to discover it and bring it into the light. I think Jesus invites us to look at what we consider ordinary or normal and see it as a viewfinder for God's

kin-dom. Where else do you witness the kingdom of heaven here in the ordinary?

I'll close by saying thank you. Thank you for introducing me to new ordinariness that is truly extraordinary. Thank you for so lavishly showering me with support, encouragement, and love. And thank you for sharing your vision of the kingdom of heaven with me this last year. I am forever transformed in all the best ways.

Amen

The Kingdom of Heaven Is Like...