Matthew 13:44-53
44 "The kingdom of heaven is
like treasure hidden in a field, which someone found and hid; then in his joy
he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field. 45 "Again, the
kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls; 46 on finding one
pearl of great value, he went and sold all that he had and bought it. 47
"Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a net that was thrown into the sea
and caught fish of every kind; 48 when it was full, they drew it ashore, sat
down, and put the good into baskets but threw out the bad. 49 So it will be at
the end of the age. The angels will come out and separate the evil from the
righteous 50 and throw them into the furnace of fire, where there will be
weeping and gnashing of teeth. 51 "Have you understood all this?"
They answered, "Yes." 52 And he said to them, "Therefore 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." 53
When Jesus had finished these parables, he left that place.
Last month, The Atlantic
magazine’s website, TheAtlaticWire.com,
published an article titled “A Dictionary of Despicable Words.”[1] Picked
from various website comments, facebook posts, and tweets, this dictionary
consists of words that many people feel are abused, misused, or overused. The
list of words found in this dictionary include artisanal, damp, epic, firstly, hipster, literally, moist (which is
the least favorite word of my college roommate), troll, um, winningest. Missing from the list, however, is a word I
personally cannot stand, yummy. It’s
not that I don’t like the people who use the word (or any of its various
forms), there’s just something about that word I find, well…despicable. It’s a
word I don’t like to use, a word that sort of makes my skin crawl.
Of course, it seems that in the life of many congregations there is one
word in particular that is often seen as despicable. It is a word that many church
folks fear—it can give them a bad case of indigestion or perhaps make them a
bit light-headed. It’s a word so common outside the walls of
steepled-sanctuaries, however, that it can easily go unnoticed as just a part
of everyday conversation, yet it is a word that can turn a calm, quiet business
meeting into a hurricane of out-of-control emotions and can cause even the most
saintly of souls to drop their attitudes of civility in the midst of the people
of God. It is a word that can cause such frustration in the midst of many
congregations that church buildings sit empty on account of this word. Now,
maybe it’s more accurate to say that the effects of this word are not the fault
of the word itself but the reactions of those who hear this word. The reactions
to this single word can cause such trauma and such drama in the hearts, minds,
and spirits of many a church member that part of me hesitates to say it even
now in this room, so if you’re a bit worried about what effect this word may
have on you, now is the time to cover your ears. What is this word that can
cause such tremors in the lives of so many congregations? It is a simple,
six-letter word: change.
Are you still with me? (If the person sitting beside happened to cover
his or her ears you can nudge them now and tell them it’ll be alright.) Yes, change is a word, an idea, which causes
so much trouble in the life of many congregations. Don’t believe me? Well then
just ask any pastor who decided to cancel Sunday evening worship services
because no one was showing up, or ask the music minister who decided to include
an acoustic guitar, an electric bass, and a drum set in the morning worship
service. Ask the minister who made the suggestion to put a screen and projector
in the sanctuary or the publishing house that changed the format of their
Sunday School literature. They’ll all tell you, change can be an awfully powerful word when spoken in the midst of
many a congregation.
But why? Why is it that so many church people and the congregations of
which they are a part flinch at the idea of change? I have a theory. I think it’s
because change often means giving something up and most of the time the
something we’re asked to give up isn’t necessarily something we’re willing to
give up. It’s something that makes us comfortable, something that helps us feel
at ease about the approach to faith we have chosen to take. That something that
we’re often asked to change is one of the few things we can hold on to from the
so-called “good ole days.” Change often asks us to give up something—or in the
most extreme cases, everything—in order to take up something else, something
different. It is beyond strange to me that so many congregations, so many “good,
Christian people,” fear change. After all, aren’t we called by Christ to change
ourselves?
I think theses short “Jesus stories” (parables) we’ve heard here today
are in fact stories about change. They are stories that speak about the most
drastic kind of change—change that calls us to give up everything in order to
take up one thing.
Look again at the first of these stories Jesus tells in verse 44: "The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which
someone found and hid; then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and
buys that field.” According to John Claypool, this story isn’t nearly
as far-fetched as we might believe today.[2] During
the generations of wars fought between the superpowers of the Ancient Near East
all over the Judean landscape, residents of that land with any belongings of
value would bury their treasure beneath the earth to protect it from pillaging
hordes. However, many times those who buried their treasures were often killed,
imprisoned, or exiled, never to return to uncover their belongings. Therefore,
it wasn’t all that uncommon for a farmer to be plowing along and suddenly bang
the blade of his plow on some long forgotten treasure. It’s quite likely that
there were those in the crowd around Jesus who had themselves found some buried
trinkets or who knew someone who had.
In this story, Jesus tells of a man who finds a treasure hidden in a
field, perhaps while on a stroll through the countryside or while working in
the garden of his superior. When this man discovers this treasure, he makes
what comes to be an enormous judgment call: he decides this treasure that he
has stumbled upon is so valuable, that he hides the treasure in the field,
returns home, posts his belongings on Craigslist, EBay, and Amazon, holds a
yard sale, and sells his last possessions to the pawn shop down the street in
order to buy that field where he found the treasure. In Jesus’ words, he “sells
all that he has and buys that field.” Talk about a change! The man in
Jesus’ story went from his normal, comfortable life with his home and all his
belongings to only owning a patch of dirt with a treasure he found to be worth
more than all he possessed before. He is willing to give up all that he has,
willing to accept the change that
comes with buying the field and the treasure hidden in it.
The second of Jesus’ stories we’ve heard today is quite similar. In verses 45 and 46 Jesus says, "Again,
the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls; on finding
one pearl of great value, he went and sold all that he had and bought it.”
The only noticeable difference between the man in the first story and this
merchant in this story is that this merchant is actually out searching for
something. Jesus says he was “in search of fine pearls” and when
he found one—just one—of such a great value, like the man from Jesus’ first
story “he went and sold all that he had and bought it.” He deemed
this pearl to be perfect and of such great value that he was willing to sell
all that he had—to change his whole life—in order to posses this perfect pearl.
Why were these two individuals in Jesus’ stories willing to change their
entire lives for the purchase of a single field and a solitary pearl? What
motivates any of us to take the kind of risks that have the potential to change
our lives? What is truly powerful enough to cause us to make decisions that
appear foolish and downright irresponsible? It is the belief in the kind of
change that leaves us better than we were before. It is the belief that the
risk is worth taking—a belief so strong that the notion of risk no longer
exists. And in the end, it’s ultimately a matter of judgment. That’s where we
hear Jesus’ third story.
In verses 47 and 48 Jesus says:
"Again,
the kingdom of heaven is like a net that was thrown into the sea and caught
fish of every kind; when it was full, they drew it ashore, sat down, and put
the good into baskets but threw out the bad.” In this short parable,
Jesus describes the all too familiar actions of the ancient, Judean fishermen.
They would row out into the water or stand on the bank, cast out a great net,
and when it was full, haul the net to the shore to sort out the good,
marketable fish from those that were too small to sell. The vocation of
fisherman was not simply one of brute strength and physical ability; it also
involved the ability to judge what was valuable and what was worthless. A great
haul of worthless fish was a wasted cast of the net, but a net filled with
fewer, valuable fish, could put change in their pockets and bring change to
their lives.
But Jesus doesn’t just leave us with this image of the fisherman for us
to contemplate its meaning. No, instead he offers an explanation in verses 49 and 50: “So it will be at the end of the age. The angels will come out and
separate the evil from the righteous and throw them into the furnace of fire,
where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.” Apparently,
fishermen, pearl merchants, and treasure hunters aren’t the only ones who make
decisions of change! Jesus gives us a look at the “end of the age” and how
it is not unlike the practice of the fisherman—it will be a time of judging
evil from righteous, a time of eternal
change no doubt!
Now, I have to be honest with you. I cannot claim with the certainty of
those in verse 51 that I have
understood all of this that Jesus has said here in these stories. I do,
however, find his last story in our passage today to be a bit out of place; it
doesn’t really seem to make sense to include it with these previous stories.
But then again…maybe it does make sense. Hear it again from verse 52: "Therefore 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." At first, this saying seems a bit odd, with
the mention of a “scribe who has been trained for the kingdom,” yet here again
we are faced with a story that is actually about judgment and change.
On the far, back corner of my uncle’s house in Enterprise there sits an
old, cinderblock house. Once upon a time, that house was the meeting place for
a local motorcycle gang, but my granddad (we called him “Pa”) bought it and
eventually sold it (or gave it) to my uncle. After Pa died in 1994, that block
house became a place to store all his old radio equipment, junk parts from
boats, cars, and lawnmowers, and even a few bottles of homemade wine. Eleven
years later, when my grandmother (we called her “Ma”) died, my mom, aunt, and
uncles sold her house and put the rest of her belongings in that old, block
house.
A few years went by, and my uncle decided to clean out that block house
and sell what things could be sold and give away the rest. My sister and mother
called me while I was at school. You see, my uncle thought it might be better
to clear out all the old, worthless junk in that house so that it could be used
for something, but there were two or three in my family who wanted to hold on
to those old, rotting and rusting belongings. Somehow, they felt that if they
could just hold on to an old answering machine, or a few cheap plates that they
could live in the past, that they could hold on to something old (even if it
was kept in a drafty, cinderblock house on the other side of town). My uncle
brought out from that house everything that was old and reminded my family of
the past, but there was nothing new at all.
I’ve seen the same thing happen when church attics or basements are
cleaned out. Old hymnbooks, rotting and crawling with silverfish, are put in
boxes and kept to take up space because some patriarch from another century
donated those hymnbooks. Antiquated programs continue to put a strain on the
church budget and volunteers simply because there was once a time (several
decades in the past) when such programs would bring dozens of people to church.
Churches and church people have a strange tendency to bring only the old
treasure out of their houses, ignoring the possibilities of the new.
There again, we see that even this simple parable is a story of change, for the "the master of a household who
brings out of his treasure what is new and what is old” still possesses
the treasures of the past, yet he has had to make room for the new; he has had
to judge what is better—to change and
take on what is new, or cling only to the old treasures.
You and I are faced today and everyday with the reality that being a
follower of Christ, or as he put it himself a “scribe who has been trained for
the kingdom of heaven,” means we are called to change. However, we do not change simply for the sake of change, but
like that man who stumbled upon a hidden treasure, that merchant in search of
the perfect pearl, or those fishermen sorting their catch on the shore, we
change because we know that whatever we leave behind, whatever we may cast
aside, can never compare to the grace of God and the love of Christ. We change
because we believe that the dominion of Jesus is far greater than any kingdom
we could ever create for ourselves. We change because we trust that Christ is
far greater than anything we have, have ever had, or ever will possess. We
change, because if we hold fast to where we are the kingdom of God will pass us
by.
So, brothers and sisters do not fear the word change. Do not be afraid to leave everything behind, all that you
are and all that you have, to come and follow Jesus, because that change that
is to come—that change that is coming even now—is greater than anything you
could ever imagine.
Let us pray…
This was a very nice way to approach the topic of change, particularly in regards to congregations--the link to the congregation is in there, but you also talk about personal change so that it's not as threatening. I think that is a great way to go about it.
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