Earth Day

Wednesday, August 9, 2017

Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, July 23, 2017, "What if we're the weeds?"

A Proper 11 16 Ord BFC 2017
Matthew 13:24-30
July 23, 2017

          Rabbi Amichai Lau-Lavie comes from 39 generations of rabbis and leads a pop-up synagogue in New York City, in keeping with the Wilderness Story in the Jewish tradition. Pop-up and Wilderness convey faith as a transient journey—with evolving understandings and truths. The identity statement of this pop-up synagogue is:  “everybody-friendly,  artist-driven, God optional.”  Rabbi Lau-Lavie arrived at this identity statement, coming back to his Jewish tradition, after having moved away from it in his teens.  During those teen years, Rabbi Lau-Lavie believed that enjoying storytelling, theater, and drag, places where he found meaning as a gay man, were somehow not a part of what it meant to be a Jew.    As he struggled with Jewish teaching during his early 20s, he began to ask himself questions about “what if?.”  What if there’s something else here?  What if he, as a gay man who loved to dress in drag was not an abomination?  What if it’s not either/or, good/bad, abomination/sanctity.  He went on to say,

What I’m feeling doesn’t feel unholy, it doesn’t feel messy, and so maybe the Torah is not right. And I remember feeling, at some point, like there was this thing — thinking, “OK, one day I’m going to die and I’m going to stand before the Throne of Glory, and there’s this one option where God’s going to look at me and say, ‘Why didn’t you follow all the rules that all the rabbis told you? Eh. You go to hell.’ Or the other option was that God’s going to look at me and burst out laughing and say, ‘Wow, why didn’t you follow your heart?'” And I thought that that latter option is much worse.[1]

What if?  What if following our heart, charting an authentic path, however strange is the desired will of God?  What if God doesn’t think in these dualities?  What if God’s dream for communities is much more expansive than our own?  That “we” is more expansive than what the culture tells us?  Rabbi Lau-Lavie believes his holy work is about reinventing the meaning of “we.”  As in you and I.  In this together.  We. 
Last week I dared to suggest that we might critique Scripture in its final form, that the writer of Matthew added a moral to the interpretation of a wisdom saying of Jesus that was never the intent of the original saying.  As Jesus moved from community to community to teach his wisdom, share his stories, and present his parables, we can imagine that he refined and shaped them in such a way that sharpened their point and had meaning for a particular location.  Part of the oral tradition is the continuing development of presentation, wording, and pattern with each new opportunity.  How do people react?  What do people remember?  Is the truth told yesterday one that needs to be pushed today?  Jesus would have been about this task.
            Though the written tradition can have its own development and direction as people interpret and re-interpret, the written tradition also locks in words, phrases, and patterns.  For example, the author of Matthew very often includes a phrase used also by the author of Luke and included in the book of Revelation, “For those who have ears, let them hear.”  That little phrase, used by Matthew as a moralizer, asks the reader to pay attention and can be seen as a little slight to the reader or listener who just doesn’t get it.  Don’t get it? (said with snarky tone) Well, I guess you just don’t have ears to hear?
            Today, we once again have before us a parable that the author of Matthew interprets to be one of strong judgment and vindictiveness.  That strong judgment and vindictiveness might not be found in the parable itself, but Matthew has bracketed this parable with the telling of the sower of the seed parable and the interpretation of the sower of the seed parable, which, as I stated last week, comes with a strong statement of judgment against seeds which are strewn in various kinds of soil.  Though the Gospel of Thomas parable is much more similar to Matthew’s this time around, it does not come with the sower of the seed and its meaning bracketed around it. 
            From its context, I believe Matthew interprets this parable to mean, “We are the good seed and the children of the Reign of God.  They are the weeds and the children of the Evil One.”  Within this context, the parable is no longer a parable.  Parables are meant to take what we know, invite us into conventional understandings, and then totally flip or change our perspective, to open up new ways of thinking or acting in the world.  Telling you and me that we are good and those people who are not like us are bad is not a unique way of seeing the world.  Using an “us” and “them” perspective, as Matthew does to put this parable in context, does not flip, change, or transform the perspective.  It is very human nature to suggest that we are the “in crowd”, and you, and your people, well, you are not only the “out crowd” but probably the people who will be gathered and burned.  
            “We are the children of God” and “they are the children of the devil.”  I believe Matthew wants us to use this teaching as an insider game that becomes a weapon against others.  Matthew suggests, “Jesus is on our side.  We root for Jesus.”
            So this is a scary theology for me, scary because it sure seems like the theology I also hear coming from many pulpits and churches today.  We are the good people, and everything else outside the church is evil.  We don’t want to be the weeds.  All we have to do is round up the bad people, institute morality, and all will be right in the old barnyard once again.  Reading this text, remembering the text we had for last week, we can certainly see how the tradition of God as judge was based in holy text. 
There is something that tells us that God as judge is a little off here though.  The one who burns the weeds in the end is the person who owns the land, runs the farm, the plantation owner.  That is not somebody that rural peasants would have identified as good, right, or just—certainly would not see the plantation owner as Divine. 
So I would suggest that there is a wider context that follows this parable, might follow a natural pairing Jesus used as he was teaching along the sea, speaking to these rural folk.  In this parable, we get a clue that this is Matthew’s interpretation because Jesus has the plantation owner talking about burning the weeds.  Jesus’s community and following would not have been sympathetic to plantation owners.  They would have been seen as the very people who had created suffering and pain for a great many people, leveraging debt to buy up land and drive the poor and very poor into suffering.
Further in Matthew, Jesus continues with his Empire parables to say that the Empire of Heaven is like a mustard seed added to the garden or leaven added to the loaf.  We have long heard those passages understood as something small that grows into something large.  But hear this, mustard was a weed that would take over the whole garden.  The Kingdom of God is like a weed?  Unlike today, leaven was considered unclean[2] and unleavened was a strong metaphor in the Hebrew Bible for all that was sacred and holy.[3]   Leaven was kept separate in a kosher kitchen for it could change the dynamics of bread and make all that was sacred profane.[4]  The Kingdom of God is unclean? 
Now remember to whom Jesus is offering these metaphors that turn the world upside down, that open up another world view, these parables.  These people are the poor and destitute, thought of as the lazy, good-for-nothing, corrupt masses.  They are the leeches who drain Rome of its riches.   These are people who have heard time after time that they are the weeds and they are unclean.  And now these people hear that the very home of God, the Empire of Heaven, is among the weeds and the unclean.  One of the most widely known scholars on the parables, Bernard Brandon Scott, suggests that the association Jesus is making is so strong that Jesus is effectively saying that God cavorts among weeds and the unclean or the very self of God is unclean and weed-like.[5]  God is a weed?  God is unclean?
Can we even imagine what good news this was to people who had heard the world, call them unclean and weeds time after time?  Can we hear this good news for our world?
Jesus knew how he and his community were perceived by others.  He offered real life lessons of the width and breadth of God’s arms and how far they extended that might scare off any well-meaning church.  For Jesus suggested that once weeds are welcome in the garden, the very nature of harvesting is changed. 
Merriam-Webster defines a weed as “a plant that is not valued where it is growing”[6] and Dictionary.com defines a weed as “a valueless plant growing wild.”[7]  As I related in the worship service that began Billings Sanctuary Rising, a weed is a weed because we call it such.  Is a dandelion a weed or a burst of sunshine which can be used for medicinal and culinary purposes?
In 21st Century North America, these parables can really get under our skin.  So much of our culture preaches success, working to identify ourselves as good seed from good stock. 
Jesus lived in a time when the political, religious, and economic morality codes were being clearly defined by those in power to stay in power.  If someone came along to blur those codes, to call the legitimacy of claims as to what brought life and who was an insider into question, that person would be considered mighty dangerous by the authorities.  And what if Jesus came from a community and created a community which blurred those lines, which called people’s claims to being the good seed into question. 
What if, what if Jesus comes at night to plant weed seed?  Maybe he knows that he and the people gathered round him are the enemy?  Better yet, what if God is our secret planter of weed seed? 
For that reason, I think this parable says, at the very least, that those who have made it their job, their vocation in the world, to determine who is good seed and weed to exclude and diminish, these people have not chosen a holy vocation.  To say, “I know who is seed and who is weed,” is to say, in effect: “I know how God sees you.  More than that, I know who is favored by God and who is not.”  The parable says that we cannot claim to know the heart and mind of God when we declare others a wicked part of the garden.
The Jesus community embraced the least and the last, the poor and outcast, and recognized that the world changed when they did so.  The garden could not grow as before because a small mustard seed grew as a weed to become the biggest plant in the garden.  A woman has secretly placed leaven in the bread and changed and transformed its very nature.  The Jesus community took people who were defined as an abomination, unholy, shameful, impure, unclean, and morally corrupt and called them the Children of God.  Distinctions were blurred such that the old categories did not work. 
So the good news I have for you all today is that you do not have to believe what the world calls you.  If you are called weed, mustard seed, or leaven, you can find a place in the Empire of Heaven.  Remember that the character of weeds is not so much that they are dominant as pervasive and persistent.  Remember that our God and our God’s activity are defined by such unholy, unclean, and profane metaphors. 
Rabbi Lau-Lavie came back to find storytelling and theater deep within the Jewish tradition and his drag character, Hadassah Gross, widow of a Jewish rabbi, opened up a point of humor for his rabbi father to come to terms with his son coming out.  When asked what he thought of Hadassah Gross, Amichai’s father replied, “She has nice legs.”  I think some of what the parable is teaching, as Rabbi Lau-Lavie is that people and concepts evolve, that we must be patient, that we aren’t there, and we should not be out pretending like we know who is truly a weed and who is just not evolved.  Or, maybe it is we who need to evolve.  He counsels:

So we need to read some of those sacred words as metaphor, as bygone models, as invitations for creativity, and for sort of the second meaning and the second naïveté here that still retrieves this text as useful and these narratives as holy, not as literal.  I think that is, of course, the conversation between so many of us of different religions who are struggling with our brothers and sisters who choose to read things literally and speak for a Biblical truth that is unalterable, where we — some of us think that there is room here for creativity, for sacred metaphor and change. And we’re not there yet. We’re not there yet for those days of dignity and equality and radical justice . . .[8]

Parables open us up to a new way of thinking and being in the world.  In God’s garden, those emerging as seed and weed from the earth do so alongside each other.  And whose to say which is which?  Whose to say?  What if those considered to be an abomination are just evolving?  Or maybe we need to evolve? So that we can move to a more profound “we.”  What if God’s idea of community is that much more expansive?  Thanks be to God.  Amen.



[1] Krista Tippett, “First Aid for Spiritual Seekers:  Conversation with Rabbi Amichai Lau-Lavie,” OnBeing, July 13, 2017, https://onbeing.org/programs/amichai-lau-lavie-first-aid-for-spiritual-seekers/.  Rabbi Lau-Lavie tells the great Talmudic parable as a way of recognizing that we are all in this together: “[A] ship that is sailing, and there are many cabins. And one of the people in the cabins on the lower floor decides to dig a hole in the floor of his cabin, and does so, and sure enough, the ship begins to sink. And the other passengers suddenly discover what’s going on and see this guy with a hole in the floor. And they say, ‘What are you doing?’ And he says, ‘Well, it’s my cabin. I paid for it.’ And down goes the ship.”  We’re all on the ship together.
[2]“[T]he process of leavening  frequently stood as a metaphor for moral corruption.”  Bernard Brandon Scott, Re-Imagine the World: An Introduction to the Parables of Jesus (Santa Rosa, CA:  Polebridge Press, 2001), p.25. “In the Hebrew Bible, unleavened bread is a powerful symbol of the holy.” 
[3] Ibid, p. 26.
[4] Pliny the Elder (23 CE to 29 CE), a chronicler of history and nature was the author of thirty-seven books of Natural History.  He wrote, “It [mustard] grows entirely wild, thought it is improved by being transplanted:  but on the other hand when it has once been sown it is scarcely possible to get the place free of it, as the seed when it falls germinates at once.” (Natural History, 29:54.170 [LOEB]) quoted from Bernard Brandon Scott, Re-Imagine the World: An Introduction to the Parables of Jesus (Santa Rosa, CA:  Polebridge Press, 2001), p. 37.
[5] Bernard Brandon Scott, Hear Then the Parable:  A Commentary on the Parables of Jesus  (Minneapolis:  Fortress Press, 1989), p. 308.  Since Brandon was Rev. Tracy Heilman’s New Testament Professor, I have heard him elaborate on this in lectures and informal conversations. 
[7] dictionary.reference.com/browse/weed    
[8] Tippett, OnBeing.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Sermon, Proper 6, "Roman law and order co-opts what it means to be faithful"

  I want to make it clear I would never preach this sermon.  One of my cardinal rules for sermon-giving is that I should never appear as her...