Have We Understood?

The Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost (RCL, Year A, Proper 12)
July 27, 2008

The Reverend Paul R. Abernathy, Rector

Jesus asks, “Have you understood all this?” “Yes,” they answer.^[1]

Sometimes I wonder about Jesus’ disciples. So quick to reply affirmatively to a question with cosmic dimensions like the meaning of life, the nature of God, verily, the kingdom of heaven, that is, the meaning and nature of life with God.

But the disciples, after all, were disciples. Students. Those who had come to Jesus to learn from him. And sometimes they seem like the children in any classroom. Faced with a question and with the approval of the teacher hanging in the balance, they either remain silent hoping one in their number will take the risk and speak up – usually the impetuous Peter – and thereby take the weight of being wrong or, in bold solidarity, blurt out an answer in the hope that their strength in number will count for something.

“Have you understood all this?” Jesus asks. All these parables piled one upon another? Parable – from the Greek, parabole, literally, a thing tossed alongside, therefore, not the reality itself, but a story, a parallel image to help us see, understand that reality, here, the kingdom of heaven.

“Have you understood?” “Yes,” they answer. Then comes the kicker, the point of the question. “Every scribe who has been trained for the kingdom of heaven is like the master of a household who brings out of his treasure what is new and what is old.”

Huh? I confess that I don’t know what this means. I do have some guesses. And that, too, is the kicker. The point.

None of us knows the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth about anything. About people. Ourselves or any other. About life. This one or any other. All we have is our guesses. Our presumptions, our perceptions of the reality around us, which themselves are like parables – things we toss alongside to help us understand the reality we experience.

So, looking again at this odd saying of Jesus, my guess is that he is the scribe trained for the kingdom of God. He is the master of the household who, in his teaching, brings what is new out of what is old – new interpretations, new meanings from old, well known images.

The kingdom of heaven – the life of God, our life with God – then, is like a mustard seed that grows or yeast that yields growth or hidden treasure and pearls of utmost value or fish nets that draw all things together or all of the above.

So, let me toss some things alongside our reality that we might better understand it.

The kingdom of heaven is like Sunday morning when people – all alike in our shared humanity, both the good and the bad, yet, all different in our individuality – come together to make community, gathering in a vast room that, like a net, holds us all.

The kingdom of heaven is like Sermon Seminar when we speak, sharing aloud what makes sense or nonsense, what matters to us and what doesn’t and when we listen, surrendering ourselves to the possibility of hearing things we like and things we don’t, and all engaged in the quest for meaning.

The kingdom of heaven is like baptism when we take what is old – ancient words of promise and a well known symbol, water – to express an intention to form and shape new lives, those of our children, that they might reflect the light of God’s love and justice in the world.

The kingdom of heaven is like Eucharist when we offer to God the bread and wine we have made from creation’s gifts of grain and grape and with timeless language – “take, bless, break, give” – partake of spiritual food that we may be strengthened anew to be like Jesus.

Have we understood all this?

[1] Matthew 13.51. The gospel passage appointed for the day is Matthew 13.31-33, 44-52.