Second Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 6): 18 June 2006.

1 Samuel 15:34-16:13 or Ezekiel 17:22-24

Psalm 20 or Psalm 92:1-4, 12-15

2 Corinthians 5:6-10, 14-17 or 2 Corinthians 5:6-17

Mark 4:26-34

With the Second through Ninth Sundays after Pentecost, the lectionary changes in a couple of notable respects. First, at least in its most recent incarnation, the lectionary links these "green" Sundays with those that follow Epiphany earlier in the year, labeling them "Proper #x." (There's a certain terminological irony to be noted here, as the same Sundays are called "Ordinary Time" in the Roman Catholic lectionary. Traditionally, "propers" and "ordinaries" were antithetical terms in liturgics, with the former referring to elements of the mass that changed by season and day and the latter pertaining to elements that did not change, like the Kyrie and Gloria. But Bob Dylan was more right than he knew: "The times they are a-changin'." In any event, this is all vastly too esoteric for a sermon.)

Second, these Sundays begin a series of lectio continua in both the Epistle and Gospel lessons, while the Old Testament lesson continues to be linked thematically with the Gospel. The Epistles for the eight Sundays before us are taken in sequence from 2 Corinthians and Ephesians, while the Gospels are largely from Mark (as expected in Year B), with the beginnings of a five-Sunday-long excursion in the "Bread of Life" chapter, John 6. As a result, the preacher cannot count on the presence of a common theme among all three lessons, as was the case in the prior two festival Sundays, Pentecost and The Holy Trinity. But one can be alert for serendipitous overlap or simply for a confluence in some specific way around the was Christum treibet ("what urges Christ") interpretive principle of Martin Luther.

Ezekiel 17:22-24 is the conclusion of an oracle that was addressed originally to Judah (the Southern Kingdom) in the final years of its existence. The first ten verses of the chapter present a riddle, or allegory, that is then explained in vv. 11-21. In the allegory a great eagle (the king of Babylon) carries off the top of a cedar tree (the king of Judah and the Judean elite, exiled in 597 B.C.) to a land and city of commerce (Mesopotamia and Babylon, respectively). He then plants a seed (the new puppet king and the people still in Judah) that grows into a luxuriant vine. Another great eagle (the pharaoh of Egypt) then comes along, and the vine reaches toward it, to the point that the vine is transplanted--but (according to the Lord GOD) resulting in its death, not prosperity. The prophet is warning all Judeans, but particularly those who were not yet exiled, that they should keep their covenant of vassalage to the king of Babylon (called "my covenant" by God, because such covenants called upon the gods of the parties as witnesses and enforcers) and not attempt an alliance with Egypt for the sake of independence from Babylonian hegemony. (For the record, the prophet's warnings were ignored, Egypt proved to be a "broken reed" [cf. 2 Kgs 18:21], and Jerusalem was destroyed in 587/6 B.C.)

Today's lesson follows this oracle of judgment with an oracle of hope for an unspecified time following the judgment, as is common in the prophetic writings. Again, a "sprig from the lofty top of a cedar" (a later Davidic king and/or a renewed city or nation of God's people) is taken, but this time by God, and God plants it "on the mountain height of Israel" (Mt. Zion). There it will grow great, to the point that "under it every kind of bird will live" and all other trees (all the nations and peoples of the earth) acknowledge the LORD (cf. Isa 60:5-14). This is an all-powerful yet unconventional God who reverses the places of the high and low trees and the green and the dry. When God's plan is fully revealed and implemented, conventional assumptions will fail. In God's reality--God's kingdom--things are not as they now seem.

Mark 4:26-34 employs the first lesson as a foil, via two of Jesus' "kingdom of God" parables. Again we are in the figurative world of flora. First, Jesus likens the kingdom of God to the agricultural process: the farmer can plant but then can do little to move things along until harvest time. Growth is in the hands of God! Jesus then compares the kingdom to a tiny mustard seed that grows into so mighty a shrub as to shelter every bird on the wing. As J. D. Crossan has observed elsewhere, the radicality of this parable lies in the simile of the mustard seed: Jesus employs not the mighty cedar of Ezekiel but a common weed--indeed, the bane of the Israelite farmer's existence--as the image for God's rule over all. Ever the master teacher, Jesus intends to provoke his hearers to ask, "Now whatever do you suppose he meant by that?"

As explained above, the Epistle lesson (2 Cor 5:6-17) was not selected for its thematic congruence with the other two readings. But for whatever reason overlaps are not far to seek. Paul draws a strong contrast between what is seen and known in the present age and what is real in God's "new creation" in Christ. Consequently, "we walk by faith and not by sight," so that the opposite of faith, here as often in Scripture, is not so much doubt as certainty. God is bound by God's promises, not by our expectations or rules, to the point that those whose lives "the love of Christ urges ... on" (that is, whose priority lies other than in the self) may well be thought insane. As in the Gospel, Paul is using language that intends to provoke radical rethinking of reality; he might as well say that in the new creation (or kingdom of God) things fall up!

With this Sunday we begin in earnest the "church's half-year," a time in which we focus at length on the implications for our present lives of the events recalled since Advent (God incarnate, baptized, transfigured, suffering, crucified, risen, ascended, and Spirit-giving in Jesus Christ). One who seeks to preach on one or more of these texts must necessarily begin with the example of all three as much as with their content. It is the preacher's task to provoke the hearer to ask such questions as "In what ways have I simply assumed that my cultural reality is both how things truly are and how God wants (or is at least content) for them to be?" Moving specifically to the language of the Gospel lesson, such provocation might be made explicit in a challenge like "When we pray 'thy kingdom come,' just what do we think we're asking for? And is that what we really want?" Upon serious reflection, many of us might well reach for the weed killer at the first sign of a sprouting mustard seed.

But the fact is that, as Luther put it in his Small Catechism, "God's kingdom comes indeed without our prayer." Those of us who are baptized citizens of that kingdom have an incredible advantage: to us the true nature of God's will and plan has been made plain, and not merely in figures (Mk 4:33f.). We know that the closed system of values in the culture around us is anything but congruent with the kingdom of God. For us as surely as for ancient Judah, God's final intention is that we should serve as his own pleasant planting (Isa 5:7a), to give succor and shelter to all people. It is for us to "scatter seed" (Mk 4:26) and to "try to persuade others" (2 Cor 5:11) of the good news of the new creation in Christ, but it is God who gives the growth (1 Cor 3:6f.). We are freed from vassalage to the penultimate (that which is most highly valued in our culture), because the ultimate human reality (that which our culture will do anything to avoid thinking about, namely, death) is securely in hand (2 Cor 5:8f.). In the popular phrase, "It's all good." Why? As the verse following today's Epistle lesson explains, it's all a gift: "all this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation" (2 Cor 5:18). GCH