20 July 2008; Proper 11, Year A
Genesis 28:10-19a
Romans 8:12-25
Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in your sight; Oh Lord, our strength and our redeemer. Amen
Chuck and I were watching Nova a few weeks ago. They were discussing dark matter and dark energy. I don’t pretend to understand what they were really talking about. What little I think I understood seemed to be that what we know about gravity tells us that there must be much more matter present in the universe than we can see. And the expanding universe requires much more energy than has so far been accounted for. So this unseen matter and energy are called dark matter and dark energy. One scientist had attempted to map where dark matter should be--I think by using what we know about gravity and relationships of the forces of gravity on what we can see--planets, stars, galaxies and so forth. He came up with a mesh which appeared to fit in and around what is seen in the universe--kind of an invisible scaffolding--or something like bubble wrap placed between all the known bits of the universe. It occurred to me that perhaps this is Heaven or the Kingdom of God--all that matter and energy that must be here but we can’t see it or touch it or even describe it--forming a sort of matrix within which all of creation exists. Our lessons this morning speak to us about this Kingdom of God.
In our lesson from Genesis we hear the familiar story of “Jacob’s Ladder”. Contrary to what I understood from the song we sang as children, “We are climbing...higher, higher...”, this story isn’t about anyone’s struggle to “be good” and “climb up to heaven”. It is rather a glimpse of God’s Kingdom given to Jacob to encourage him on his journey and to help remind him of God’s nearness and God’s faithfulness to God’s promises. Jacob has fallen asleep on the ground as he travels to seek a wife from his father’s kinsmen. But he is also fleeing the anger of his brother Esau and feeling guilt about his past and uncertainty about his future. Upon awakening from his dream--his vision of God’s messengers coming and going between heaven and earth--Jacob said, “Surely the Lord is in this place.” Some people speak of “thin places” where the boundaries between the physical and the spiritual worlds seem to be more permeable and people seem to be more likely to have what they consider spiritual experiences. It is as if there is only a thin membrane between the physical and the spiritual, and once in a while there is a tear or opening in the membrane so that we might peek through or heaven might seep out and touch us. Some people have suggested that the area around Three Rivers where the Abbey and the retreat centers--the Hermitage and Gilchrist--are located is one of these “thin places” where we, with Jacob, might say “Surely the Lord is in this place.” But, of course, God can reach us anyplace. Whatever the explanation, it seems that many people, like Jacob, occasionally are granted these glimpses of something that we understand to be God’s Kingdom.
Our gospel reading today is similar in many ways to the parable of the sower last week. It is another example of the abandon and abundance with which God sows seed. Jesus seems to say that the Kingdom of Heaven is where Gods love and grace are generously--extravagantly--spread throughout creation, right in the midst of the mess in which we live. The potential for God’s Kingdom to emerge and thrive is not hindered by the presence of weeds. And God will sort it all out in the fullness of time.
While we all tend to get caught up in the idea that Heaven or the Kingdom of God is something to be achieved at the end of time--”Pie in the Sky, By and By”--I think the early Christians were quite clear that they had entered God’s Kingdom with Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection. God stepped into history and everything changed. Paul speaks in the present tense. “All who are led by the Spirit of God are children of God.” God’s Kingdom has begun. At the same time Paul writes that we are waiting for adoption, with hope and patience. So when we speak of the Kingdom of Heaven it seems we are speaking of something that is both now and not yet--a state of being in the present, in the midst of the world, but also a state of anticipation of something wonderful yet to come. Part of Jesus’ call to servanthood is certainly a call to each of us to help bring about God’s Kingdom now--to do what we can to move the world in the direction of peace, love and justice. I read somewhere that every time we see the hungry fed, the naked clothed, love expressed, justice accomplished we see and experience God’s Kingdom. So each time we participate in those activities, we participate in the God’s Kingdom--and we give others an opportunity to experience God’s presence.
Paul speaks in his letter to the Romans today--and often in his writings--about those who live “according to the flesh” and those who live “according to the spirit.” I grew up understanding this in a very dualistic way. The flesh--our bodies--are bad. And the sins of the flesh--especially all things sexual--are especially bad. But the heart and mind--the less concrete world--is good. So the life of the mind--the intellect--and the life of the spirit--church things--were good. Now, although I am always claiming to be a heretic, the heresy of dualism is one I try all the time to correct. Our belief in the Incarnation teaches us that God, as Jesus, came to live in a human body in God’s created world which is very good. The physical world and all it entails is not inherently evil. So why does Paul seem to say “the flesh” is a bad thing?
I have learned through our readings in EFM to read Paul differently. When Paul writes of living “according to the flesh” he is speaking of putting human interests--self interest--before God. When he writes of living “according to the spirit” he is speaking of putting God first. One of my favorite theologians, Frederick Schleiermacher, used the terms God-forgetfulness and God-consciousness. So in Paul I now read “life according to the spirit” as God-consciousness, a state in which we keep God and God’s purposes at the front of our minds--in first place. And I read “life according to the flesh” as God-forgetfulness, a state in which we get so pre-occupied with ourselves and our self-interests that we forget or reject God (at least temporarily). It seems to me that when we live in a state of God-consciousness we are living very close to, if not in, the Kingdom of God. We remember to pray, we see injustice and work to correct it, we try to behave in ways that are loving toward God and our neighbor. But when we live in a state of God-forgetfulness we shut ourselves out of the Kingdom. We focus on self--self-interest, self-protection, self-satisfaction. We may actively exclude or refuse God’s presence--or we may just be so distracted we forget God. Then we live feeling separated from God’s Kingdom--forgetting about it’s existence. At those times we may be like the weeds growing among the grain. But God does not forget us. God remains faithful to us just as God remained faithful to Jacob, who certainly had his moments of God-forgetfulness.
So I’ve kind of wandered around a lot of ideas about the Kingdom of God. I find myself back thinking about the dark matter and dark energy. It seems such an intriguing metaphor for the Kingdom of God. It is spread around throughout creation--much like a supporting framework or scaffolding. In addition to supporting creation, it may cushion us from collisions--like bubble wrap in all the spaces, it may keep us from bumping against one another too hard or too often. It is present, with abundance, all around us but most of the time we are quite unaware that it exists. It is mixed right in amongst all of the worlds we know. Perhaps, once in a while, we get a glimpse of its presence or power--very close at hand. We have hope of understanding fully some time in the future.
No metaphor is ever quite right--so I have to be a little careful not to drag things out too far--especially when I don’t really understand dark matter or dark energy. But it did open for me a whole series of interesting thoughts around the now and the not yet of the Kingdom of God.
Paul says “I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory about to be revealed to us.” This glory of the not yet Kingdom is part of what I think about with my fixation on butterflies--the glory beyond our imagining. While we await that “not yet” Kingdom, may we all remember that God is always close at hand, generously spreading grace and love throughout creation. God will offer us opportunities for glimpses of the Kingdom now. God will present us with opportunities to help bring about God’s Kingdom now. And, beginning now, God holds out the promise of an eternity of God’s love, more glorious than we can possibly imagine, always available to each and every one of us. |