"With what can we compare the kingdom of God..? (Mark 4:30)
Being
an old religious guy, I naturally love churches. Ecclesiastical architecture fascinates
me—particularly Gothic churches. Not too long ago I finished reading an opaque
morass of verbal prolixity called The
Ambassadors by Henry James (Warning: If you think I’m hard to follow, don’t
even attempt James. The guy was incapable of writing a single, simple declarative
sentence. If you can get to the end of this book and still know what the plot
was about, you deserve a medal! But I digress).
There
is a captivatingly romantic scene in this 1903 novel in which the hero, Lambert,
finding himself with time to kill in Paris, decides to visit the cathedral of
Notre Dame. Although not a Catholic and really barely a Christian, Lambert is fascinated
and transfixed by the glory of this enormous structure. The vaulted ceiling
draws his focus upwards, and he is inspired by the centuries of human effort immortalized
in the stonework.
If
you can’t get through The Ambassadors
(and I don’t advise you to try), Ken Follett’s The Pillars of the Earth is a sensational read which centers
entirely on the construction of a medieval cathedral. Tom, the builder, wants
to construct this church simply because, “It will be beautiful.” There’s a
great passage where he painstakingly drives a spike into the earth to mark the
point on the horizon where the sun will rise, a sun which will eventually shine
into the church over the altar through an elaborate rose window which would, “seem
like a huge sun exploding into innumerable shards of gorgeous color.”
I’ve
never personally seen the great cathedrals of Europe, but when I look at the
pictures of these majestic buildings, I think of the love of God which must’ve
been in the hearts of those who were willing to spend decades in labor to
produce such works of grandeur.
And
then I come to my own humble chapel here in Northeast Philly. Plain bricks, vinyl
siding, ugly cinder blocks. A low ceiling in the worship space which doesn’t
exactly inspire the kind of awe experienced by Henry James’ hero in The Ambassadors. No towering works of
art, no magnificent carvings, lousy acoustics, and eight steps leading up to
our worship space which weekly challenge the elderly and disabled.
But
then I think, “We are the mustard seed church.” (See this week's gospel in the RCL, Mark 4: 26-34)Yes, we are small, but God—who gives
all the growth—is at work here. Granted, a mustard plant isn’t even that
spectacular. It’s not a tree, but, rather, a little shrub. Yet the birds that
nest in it don’t care about its size relative to other species of horticulture.
They are just grateful to find shelter in its branches.
My
little mustard seed church has been shelter now for three homeless families
through Northeast Philadelphia Interfaith Hospitality Network. Because this
congregation said, “yes” to the plea from IHN, other churches here in the Northeast
have opened their doors to the homeless. A small spirit of compassion is making
an enormous difference in the lives of people who so desperately need a place
to lay their heads. And the presence of these temporarily homeless birds here
in our little mustard church has softened our hearts and made us better
ambassadors for the forgiving and generously welcoming love of Jesus Christ.
Time
and again Jesus in the scriptures reminds us that God’s Kingdom—the ruling
spiritual presence of God—is not like our earthly kingdoms which value size and
wealth and power. The Kingdom of God comes with heart-shaking grandiosity hidden
in simple, humble packages. It might be a small, urban church sheltering a mom
and her children. It might be a sudden act of generosity performed in a time of
doubt which causes a dynamic change of heart. It might be as simple as a word
spoken to a child at just the right moment which changes a life that changes
the world.
How,
I wonder, can anyone who knows Jesus ever feel that they don’t matter? In the
spirit of faith we go on scattering seeds of kindness, forgiveness, and mercy—never
knowing if they’ll take root or not or what impact they may have. But we trust
God to do the rest.
Thanks
for dropping by.
No comments:
Post a Comment