He put before them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed that someone took and sowed in his field; it is the smallest of all the seeds, but when it has grown it is the greatest of shrubs and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and make nests in its branches.” He told them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like yeast that a woman took and mixed in with three measures of flour until all of it was leavened.” -Matthew 13:31-33
My eye doctor is in the Beachwood Mall. I am fairly certain I continue going back because whenever I’m done with my eye appointment, I get to go to the food court, or the Lego store, or some other fun mall activity. The last time I was there, confirming that in fact, my eyesight is quite bad, I decided to stop by Sephora.
Do you know Sephora? Entering Sephora is a dazzling experience. There is makeup and moisturizers and free samples galore. I happened to be there right as the store was opening and there was a literal line to get in. I was mostly just browsing, but I had an idea that I might find some kind of lotion for the upcoming winter season. It gets really dry here in Ohio when the weather gets cold and my skin definitely could use some help.
The trouble with the products at Sephora is they tend to be very expensive. The success of Sephora is that their products can be very, very effective.
I went to one of those little free testers to put some moisturizer on my hand. This tiny little tub probably cost $45 dollars. I have no idea what was in it. But I put a little dab of that on my skin and the entire texture of my skin transformed.
Just right here on the back of my hand, but my skin was smooth. My skin was soft. My skin was beautifully hydrated. And truthfully it was so dramatic that I walked away from whatever that magical product was and didn’t look back.
It’s not magic, it’s science, but I was still genuinely flustered by how this tiny little amount of something could affect my skin so much. I kept feeling my hand all day. It made me concerned that I usually have horrible hands or something. And I honestly understand the price now. A little of whatever that was goes a long way.
Jesus’ parables about this are almost folksy. We know a little goes a long way. If it wasn’t an experience at Sephora, it would be dish soap in a dishwasher (suds everywhere) or axe body spray (as locker rooms will attest to).
You may notice I tend not to be a lengthy preacher. In part, it’s because if we hear it in scripture and it makes sense, who am I to complicate it?
A little goes a long way, done and done.
This is almost the fullness of Jesus’ message. Almost.
Because it’s really not a bad saying, a little goes a long way. It’ll certainly help your shampoo costs.
When Jesus offers these little parables about a mustard seed and yeast, he’s doing it in the midst of other stories. And they don’t all have happy endings.
These stories of a little goes a long way are interspersed with sometimes you try things and it totally fails, like scattering seed on the rocky ground. Or sometimes you go and try and tell important things to the people who love you, and then they reject you in your hometown.
So to edit the saying, Jesus would be more on board with: A little goes a long way–mostly.
All of these things are being taught in the context of what the Kingdom of God or heaven is like. Kingdom is a tough word for us to use, because we don’t live in a kingdom. You’ll hear me call it the kin-dom sometimes. Feel free to think about it as a government, or country, or some kind of overarching collection of people that has been brought together. The kingdom of heaven is like a grain of mustard seed, Jesus says.
This kingdom part is critical. These stories aren’t just for our personal enjoyment and satisfaction. They’re about some kind of community organization. They’re about people who hear the message of God and then shape their lives around it. Jesus gives us some kind of idea of what that organizing together looks like.
In that space a little goes a long way.
This to me is a profoundly hopeful take on people. I need this kind of perspective.
The philosophy of small actions having an impact is a guardrail against apathy. It’s a guardrail against inaction. It’s a way of being we need as a small church to remember our mustard seeds, our yeast, can have an impact in a world of despair.
Because I’ve gone to bake bread before. And I got all the ingredients from the cupboard, lined them up on our kitchen island. I measured out the warm water to pour over the yeast and allow it to bloom. And then I’ve come back to find that the yeast is not doing much of anything. No bubbles, no foaming.
And I’ve also planted seeds expecting many flowers and grasses and growing things. And I’ve planted and I’ve watered and I’ve received dirt in response.
But neither experience has led me to never bake or garden again. I understand that a little goes a long way, mostly. And so I try again.
We vote and it doesn’t go our way. We vote and the world changes. We donate money hoping it gets to the right people and find out it filled someone’s refrigerator. We don’t cut off contact, we instead keep making phone calls and sending emails and eventually they respond. We wave hi, we don’t cross the street. We keep showing up even when it’s small.
The kingdom of heaven does not seem to be concerned with mighty, coercive, dominating power. And so neither should we. This scripture powerfully reminds us that the small, thoughtful orientation of your life toward all that is good does matter. That your steady choices of offering kindness matters. That justice is built slowly and steadily. That we bake and grow and trust that a 100% guarantee of success would come from an imposing power we don’t want to build our lives around. A little bit goes a long way.
