Thursday, 4 April Luke 13:10-35
Written by Dr Graham Leo. ©2019.
Jesus gives us two lovely images or metaphors of the Kingdom of Heaven in this reading.
The first is of a mustard seed which grew into a large tree where the birds came and made their nest.
Lots of people have tried to find examples of such a tree growing in the Middle East. But the fact is that mustard plants are not large. The power of Jesus’ metaphor is that the tree that emerges from this seed is an utterly unexpected one. It is as big (at least) as a fig tree, and creates deep, widespread shade. In a hot climate, such a tree is always welcome.
Of course, the seed from which it grew was nothing less than the seed of Jesus’ death. ‘Unless a seed falls into the ground, …’ he said. What should have been a disaster, what everyone thought was a shameful loss of face and desperate failure, turned out to have become the greatest kingdom ever known to humankind.
Nor was it a massive tree that sat atop a mountain and ruled the world in imitation of other great ruling dynasties, relying on cruelty and raw power for its maintenance. Rather, it was a gentle and green tree of life that grew so large it provided shelter underneath its boughs for those seeking shade, and nests for birds and small creatures in its branches. It was a tree of welcome, of food and life.
The metaphor reminds us of the Tree of Life spoken about both in Genesis and Revelation. Norse mythologies imagined the whole world depending on the Tree of Life, that they called Yggdrasil. The Tree of Life is a biblical symbol for that Source of True, Eternal and Infinitely-Satisfying Life which can only be found in the Kingdom of God, through the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.
The second metaphor is described in vv20-21. The kingdom is not the dough that would become a loaf of bread, but rather it is the yeast that the woman mixes into the dough. Flat bread is bread without yeast. Bread with yeast rises and increases in size far beyond the small size of the original lump of flour.
In Jesus’ image we could easily miss the little, but very important reference to the amount of flour. The NIV which I use misses it entirely. It refers to ‘a large amount’ of flour. They rely on your diligence to read the marginal note to discover that the original Greek says ‘three satas’ or ‘measures’ of flour. (Why do translators assume we are all stupid, and try to dumb things down for us?)
Once we realise this original description, of course, we are suddenly drawn into a much larger picture. We couldn’t possibly read about three measures of flour without being reminded of Abraham in Genesis 18:6. Abraham was sitting at the entrance to his tent ‘in the heat of the day’, (the details are so important in scripture!) when three visitors arrive. The visitors later turn out to be a visitation from the LORD God himself (see Gen. 18:8-10).
Abraham rushes into Sarah and says, ‘Quick! Get three measures of fine flour and knead it and bake some bread.’
The three measures later became a symbol of hospitality in the ancient world, and could be seen pictured on signs outside inns and the like. It may be still a favourite amongst embroiderers – I don't know, that’s way outside my field of expertise.
But the point is obvious, surely, once we realise that Jesus has mentioned three measures. But we’d never get there if we didn't read the marginal note in the NIV.
The Kingdom of Heaven is fundamentally about hospitality. All those images we are familiar with, of the Great Banqueting Hall of Heaven, of the Master who takes off his royal robes and dons a serving apron to feed his servants, of Jesus himself, who donned an apron and washed the feet of his disciples before serving them the Last Supper, of those who live rough in the lanes and hedgerows being invited into the Feast that the wealthy and influential spurned – all these are drawn into our minds when we read this simple phrase of the three measures.
The yeast is the essential part. The yeast is that component of the Kingdom of Heaven which seeps its way throughout the kingdom, making it grow larger and larger, till there is a loaf fit to feed myriads of hungry pilgrims. And so here we are again, back at the Communion table.
I can't understand why more Christians aren't desperate to come to this table each week, to feed at the hand of the Royal King, who has donned the simple guise of the parish minister and some ordinary men and women (flawed and frail though we all may be) who help to hand out the priceless food and drink.
After I return to my seat, and have finished my prayers, I love nothing more but to just watch in often-tearful awe at the lines of people making their slow way down the aisle. I love to just observe the Grace of God in action each week. I like the slow trek up to the altar; I don't want the handed-out trays passed along a row. I don't mean that’s wrong; it’s just my preference. I love to see the people of God being welcomed one by one, fed by the hands of welcome, as though it were Jesus himself(!), and hearing the words of grace.
Cripples, aged, young, tattooed, scarred, fashion-conscious, newly-married, widowed, teenagers, families, clothes crumpled or ironed – many of them somewhat careless perhaps of the grandeur of the invitation to which they are responding. But the shining wonder is that the Royal Host of this meal welcomes them (me!) anyway, even on the poor terms of penitence and attention that we sometimes offer him, and he serves us in humble grace.
No wonder Luke ends this section by quoting the Lord, who promises this joy, in the fulfilment of which we live each day (I prefer the Latin for its succinct beauty, but you can use whichever you prefer):
Benedictus qui venit in nomine Domini. Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.
Prayer: Thank you, Lord Jesus Christ, for coming to us to establish your Kingdom. I accept yet again, your Kingship. I bow before you, and eat and drink from your hand in sheer wonder and gratitude that you would love even me. You are beautiful in your lovely holiness. Help me to serve others, to go out into my world in the name of the Lord. Amen.
