There is something unexpected and beautiful in this tiny little parable Jesus tells his followers. This isn’t surprising given all that we know about Jesus’ parables being intentionally unexpected and subversive. “The kingdom of heaven is like yeast that a woman took and hid in three measures of flour until all of it was leavened.”
That’s it… that’s the whole of his story. In fact it seems that this parable marks the end of his parable sharing era for he had fulfilled the prophecy (likely made by Isaiah, but who knows? Jesus didn’t say) about speaking in parables… it’s a very simple, very familiar scene for the people hearing the parable. A woman making bread with staples found in every home.
Except, it really isn’t as straightforward as we would like it to be. The complexity of the parable starts right in the words chosen to translate what was said. Many English translations say that the woman “mixed” the yeast into the flour, but that’s not quite right if you go back to the original Greek used in the story. The Greek word is enkrypto – to hide. To tuck something away somewhere secret, where it can’t be seen and in the case of our parable somewhere it can quietly do it’s work unseen. The NRSV (New Standard Revised Version) of the Bible that we use at Westworth actually uses the word “hid”, and we can imagine a woman with a huge bowl of flour, making a well to place the yeast and then carefully covering it over. What has been hidden will one day be revealed… the kingdom of God is like yeast hidden in flour.
And how much flour is three measures? Jewish theologian and Gospels scholar Amy Jill Levine points out that three measures of flour is a ridiculous amount of flour for one person to use. Three measures works out to be about 60 pounds. That’s going to produce way more bread than one family could possibly eat. This kind of measure would only be used if the woman happens to be making bread for her entire village. So maybe our attention is meant to be drawn to the sheer abundance, the extravagance of the amount of flour. It’s enough for a feast, it’s enough to feed the community. It is more than she needs for her household. Maybe the kingdom of heaven isn’t meant to be just for one person, one family or one group of people. Maybe the kingdom of heaven is meant for everyone – to feed everyone, to include everyone, to ensure abundance for everyone.
More than anything, Levine reminds us that the kingdom of heaven isn’t all golden halos, wings and harps on some far away cloud strewn heaven. No, Jesus is trying to get us to understand that the kingdom of heaven is right here, right now, and in the case of our parable it is found in the shared oven in a Galilean village where everyone has bread to eat. The kingdom of heaven shows up not only in the extraordinary, but most of the time it is in the everyday – in kitchens and bakeries, around dinner tables and over cups of coffee, in protest signs and in prayers for peace… in the small actions of everyday people like you and I who keep showing up to feed, care, comfort and support others. The kingdom of heaven is found in the small acts of love, justice and peace that get buried in the chaos of life, and yet they do their work and produce small but impactful change.
I know you are very aware that today we mark Remembrance Day, sometimes called Peace Sunday. We take time to remember those days of violence and death in the hopes of living into the mantra of “never again” while recognizing that thousands and thousands of lives have been changed forever by the participation of loved ones in war. We remember those who went and came home, those who died, those who came home different from what they were. We remember the wails of grief and the hugs of relief. We remember the deep and lasting cost of war… and we yearn for, pray for, work for a world where war is not the default option but becomes something obsolete, passe. We long for the kingdom of God to be in the here and now so that we can see, hear and feel justice rolling down water and peace like an ever flowing stream.
Remembrance Sunday is a reminder also that we don’t just look back to remember but also to learn, to change. We look back and then we look at our world now and wonder how we can and should be living into the peace that so many died trying to attain. We look back to continue to move forward, carrying the deep hope and yearning for peace into our reality.
Maybe our yeasty parable can give us a clue about this peace we so desperately need and want. You see, the woman in the parable isn’t doing anything dramatic or earth shaking. She’s not preaching to a crowd or commanding an army. She is doing the quiet work of combining yeast and flour to make dough –folding in tiny and alive thing into something that will grow and feed many.
That is what peace seeking is like most of the time – nothing dramatic. Nothing that garners media attention. Nothing headline worthy. Most of the time peace seeking is made up of small, faithful, hope-centered acts of compassion, courage, advocacy and justice folded into the everyday actions of humans until they begin to transform the world around us.
I know over the past few months you’ve heard me say that we might not be able to solve all the problems of the world, but we can work on the ones in our own little parts and when we all do this we can cause a wave of change that over powers and breaks down the systems of oppression and violence. Deep in my heart I know you hear this now and know that this is God’s call to us – to bring about peace and the kingdom of God in our own little parts of the world.
So I wonder how can we “hide” peace in our lives? What happens when we make peace and justice the yeast that grows becoming part of who we are, how we love, what we do, and how we minister in the world? Can we trust that the kingdom can be built this way – one small action, one gentle word, one act of service at a time? Each gesture of understanding, each effort to listen instead of argue, each refusal to allow hatred and oppression to take root are the small bits of peace that help the kingdom to rise.
As we remember those who have served, died, suffered in the name of peace, as we learn from their actions and honour their sacrifice, we also remember our calling as people of faith to continue the work of peacemaking. We need to hold on to the call to brings about peace through ordinary acts of compassion and grace.
I want to invite you, as we have been doing for the last couple of weeks, to take a moment to practice sharing your thoughts about the following questions:
In what ways has your faith brought peace into your life?
How has faith made things better for you or helped you make things better for others?
What do you want to tell the next generation about God, about hope, about peace?
When has faith made a difference – when has it helped the bread rise in your life?
Turn to your neighbour, shimmy over to be closer to some one, or simply reflect on the questions if you aren’t super comfortable talking to some one… chat about one or several of the questions for about five minutes.
The kingdom of heaven is like yeast hidden in an abundance amount of flour – we may not see it in the moment but it is alive and patiently working to bring about life. In time, we will realize God’s dream of peace for us, and we will be confident that we have played some small part in bringing that peace to life. May it be so. Amen.
