8. Cautionary Tales
He replied, “Because the knowledge of the secrets of the kingdom of heaven has been given to you, but not to them. Whoever has will be given more, and they will have an abundance.
Whoever does not have, even what they have will be taken from them. This is why I speak to them in parables: ‘Though seeing, they do not see; though hearing, they do not hear or understand.’ In them is fulfilled the prophecy of Isaiah: ‘You will be ever hearing but never understanding; you will be ever seeing but never perceiving. For this people’s heart has become calloused; they hardly hear with their ears, and they have closed their eyes. Otherwise they might see with their eyes, hear with their ears, understand with their hearts and turn, and I would heal them.’ But blessed are your eyes because they see, and your ears because they hear. For truly I tell you, many prophets and righteous people longed to see what you see but did not see it, and to hear what you hear but did not hear it.” Matthew 13:11–17
With no more customers in the bakery, Emet began to tidy up the front counter. “The scrolls of Matthew and Luke both tell us the story of the woman and the three measures of flour. Can you recite it, Hanan?” Hanan’s eyes shifted up and to the side as he tried to recall the exact words of the parable. “Umm . . . the kingdom of God . . . is like leaven that a woman took and hid in three measures of flour, until . . .” Hanan paused. “—until it was all leavened," Emet said, finishing the sentence. “Yeah. So, does that mean leaven—or Yeast—is a symbol of the Kingdom, Grandpa?” Emet shook his head. “No, Hanan. Jesus was not saying His Kingdom was like Yeast.” “Oh,” Hanan replied, sounding slightly confused. “He wasn’t?” “Not at all.” “But why?” Emet smiled kindly before saying, “Because Yeast is always used as a negative word picture in the Scriptures, remember?” “Right.” Hanan tried to make it sound like he was catching on, even though he wasn’t. “Rather than comparing His Kingdom to Yeast,” Emet said as he wiped the counter with a damp cloth, “Jesus was actually comparing it to the story of Yeast.” Hanan tilted his head to one side, revealing his confusion. “Which story, Grandpa?” “The story of the woman adding Yeast to three measures of flour.” Emet stopped wiping the counter, crossed his arms in front of his chest, then punctuated his speech with deliberate pauses to clarify. “There’s a lesson . . . about God’s Kingdom . . . in the story . . . of the woman adding Yeast to the three measures of flour.” Emet waited as he watched Hanan think. The teenager finally shook his head, demonstrating that he still didn’t get it. “It’s a warning, Hanan, just as all the parables in this portion of Matthew’s scroll are. Every one of them contains a warning—an admonition if you will—for anyone who would follow Jesus.” “All the parables in that portion of Matthew’s scroll are admonitions?” Hanan questioned. “How so?” Emet smiled and waved to a few shoppers as they walked by the bakery, then continued. “In the parable of the sower—what happened?” “Umm . . . a farmer went out to sow some seed.” Hanan began the story and then thought for a moment. “Some of the seeds were eaten by birds while others developed into plants.” Hanan then added slowly, “But only a few of those plants survived and yielded a crop because many of them were destroyed by the sun or choked out by thorns.” “Yes,” Emet said, “and according to Jesus, the seeds that thrived were those that fell on good soil, which He said represents. . . .” “Jesus said it refers to someone who hears the Word—” Hanan answered. He pondered a bit before saying, “—and understands it.” “Yes,” Emet said. “That is the one—the one who understands—who produces a crop yielding a hundred, sixty, or thirty times what was sown.” “So. . . .” Hanan began to say, not wanting to sound disrespectful. “How is this parable a warning, Grandpa?” Emet smiled. He could hear the desire for understanding in his grandson’s voice. “It’s a warning to pause and consider—to be mindful of the state of our soil.” As he said the word soil, he patted Hanan on the chest, just over his heart. “It’s a call to stay teachable, son. If a person has everything figured out already, then there’s nothing left for God to teach them. Their soil is too hard and unreceptive.” “I see,” Hanan interjected. “So, the parable of the sower is a warning to keep my ground tilled and ready to receive what God has to say.” “Precisely,” Emet agreed. “It’s a call to have eyes that see, and ears that hear. Do you understand?” “I’m trying to,” Hanan replied with a half-smile. “Good.” As Emet began to sweep the floor in the front of the shop, he asked, “How about the parable of the farmer who sowed wheat in his field? What happened while he and his workers slept?” Hanan stepped out of the broom’s way and said, “I remember that an enemy came and sowed weeds in the field, and when the workers asked if they could rip out the weeds, the farmer said, ‘No . . . let both grow together until the harvest.’” At this, Hanan stopped and asked, “But, Grandpa, I don’t understand something. Why didn’t the farmer just have them pull up the weeds right then and there?” Propping the broom against the wall, Emet motioned to the back of the shop, indicating they should continue the conversation at the workbench. “I believe there are a couple reasons for that, Hanan,” Emet began. “First of all, there will be a Day of Judgment—someday—but that day is not yet here. Until that day arrives, ‘mercy triumphs over judgment.’ Or to put it another way, God’s Truth will always be clothed in God’s Grace. Does that make sense?” “I think so. It sounds like Jesus is warning us not to condemn people. Our job is simply to speak the truth in love and let God take care of the judgment in His time? “That’s exactly it,” Emet said; then he quoted a line from the scroll of Jude. “Be merciful to those who doubt; save others by snatching them from the fire; to others show mercy, mixed with fear—hating even the clothing stained by corrupted flesh.” As Emet spoke, Hanan sat down on one of the stools and asked, “So, what’s the other reason you think the farmer didn’t want his servants to pull up the weeds?” “Because his servants—which is us, by the way—are not very good at telling the difference between wheat and weeds,” Emet answered. “Even I, the village baker, can look at a perfect stalk of ‘wheat’ only to discover it’s actually a weed, just as easily as I can pluck a ‘weed’ and toss it aside only to find out later it was wheat.” Deep in thought, Hanan crossed his arms. “I guess we really have no way of knowing what God is doing in the lives of others, do we?” he reflected. “The most difficult person we know could be the very one His Spirit is working on. And the most amazing person we know could have a heart that is far from God.” “I couldn’t have said it better myself,” Emet replied as he handed Hanan the damp cloth. Tapping on Hanan’s shoulder, he exhorted him, “So take care of your field. Because if your field is like mine, it’s far from perfect. And be endlessly patient and full of faith regarding the fields of others. We don’t know what God is doing in others’ hearts, but we trust He’s up to good things. Agreed?” “Absolutely, Grandpa.” Beaming with approval, Emet asked, “Now, how about the parable of the mustard seed? What happened to it?” Hanan lifted his head, motioning toward a tree growing just outside the window. “Even though it started out as a tiny seed, it became a huge tree.” As he stood and began to wipe down his side of the bench, he indicated, “So big that even birds came and perched in its branches. That’s pretty great, right?” “What do you think?” Emet asked. “Do you think it’s a good thing that birds were perched in the branches?” “Umm. . . .” Hanan paused. He set the cloth on the workbench and began to rub his chin wishing he could grow a full beard like his dad and grandad. Then he conceded, “Probably not, Grandpa. The birds ate the seeds in the parable of the sower—the first parable we talked about—so they’re probably not a good thing in this parable.” You catch on quick!” Emet said, his eyes gleaming with pride. “In fact,” Hanan continued, “if they perch in the trees of our garden, they eat up all our fruits and vegetables. I suppose that’s why Mom and Grandma sew nets to put over our plants and trees.” “Without a doubt, Hanan,” Emet agreed. “We love our fine feathered friends, but we don’t want them eating up our garden.” “Yeah, I reckon you’re right, Grandpa.” Emet grabbed the cloth, moved a small bowl that was on his side of the workbench, and wiped up the flour underneath it, saying, “Jesus was telling us to keep watch, Hanan. To guard our hearts—to take care as to what we allow into our hearts and minds—to remember what Kingdom we’re truly citizens of.” Emet paused as he folded the cloth and placed it on the shelf above the bench. “You see, the enemy is always looking for an opportunity to snatch away the fruit the Lord is developing in us.” Looking at Hanan, he asked, “Are you understanding these things?” Hanan nodded as Emet raised a thick eyebrow and continued. “How about the parables of the treasure and the pearl? What happened in those?” “Hmm. . . .” Hanan thought for a moment. “I remember that the men in those parables had to sell everything to get the treasure.” “Indeed,” Emet confirmed. “These stories call on us to remember that God’s gift of salvation is free—” “—but that gift came at a price, right?” Hanan attempted to finish his grandpa’s thought. “I mean, Jesus gave everything on the cross, and He then asks us to surrender everything to follow Him. He tells us we need to—how did He say it?” “To count the cost,” Emet reminded Hanan. “That’s the way I understand it, Hanan. If you want to be Jesus’s disciple, you must deny yourself and take up your cross daily and follow Him. ‘For whoever wants to save their life will lose it—.’” “—But whoever loses their life for Jesus will save it.” “Yes, so these parables are a reminder and a warning that we must count the cost.” Then, with a twinkle in his eyes, Emet added, “Yet as we do, we discover that Jesus is the greatest treasure of all.” Hanan folded his arms and nodded, attempting to take in all that he was learning. Emet continued, “Now let’s see, there’s one more parable in that part of Matthew’s scroll.” He drummed the workbench with his fingertips a few times to jog his memory. “Ah, yes, the parable of the net.” He glanced at Hanan for a response. “I guess it’s a lot like the other parables,” Hanan said with a shrug. “Even though the net gathered up a lot of good fish, there were some bad ones in the net too.” “Precisely,” Emet agreed, tousling Hanan’s curls. “So be mindful of what this net is taking in, son. Learn to recognize the Truth of God from the lies of the enemy. Be sure you’re actually following Jesus—not just a crowd that says they are. Watch out for the Yeast.” Emet paused, and then offered in a serious tone, “This is why I say these parables are warnings, Hanan.” “Including the parable of the Yeast and the three measures of flour?” Hanan asked. “Especially the parable of the Yeast and the three measures of flour.” “But, Grandpa,” Hanan began as he attempted to smooth his curls back in place, “what if someone doesn’t understand that Yeast is a bad thing?” Emet sighed. “I suppose that’s possible,” he said thoughtfully. He stroked his beard as he leaned back against the workbench. “I guess some people might think this parable teaches that God’s Kingdom will expand and fill the earth as Yeast expands dough.” “That’s good, right?” Hanan offered. “Well, certainly,” he replied, resting his palms on the bench behind him. “As followers of Jesus, we’re called to make disciples and see God’s Kingdom expand.” He looked at Hanan intently and said, “But Jesus already gave us special word pictures to illustrate that kind of influence and impact.” “He did? Like what?” “Well, for one,” Emet turned, reached up, and pulled open the window coverings, “‘You are the light of the world.’” Hanan shielded his eyes from the intense brightness of the sun. “Oh, yeah.” Emet reached across the counter for a pinch of salt and tossed it across the workbench, scattering crystal slivers of sunlight around the small room. “You are the salt of the earth,” he said. “Jesus did say that, didn’t He?” Hanan replied thoughtfully. “Yep, and here’s something I know about salt,” Emet replied. “When it undergoes the heat of an oven, it stays the same. Salt remains salt, no matter the environment. Unfortunately, I can’t say the same thing about Yeast. As you well know, Yeast dies when the heat is turned up.” “I never thought of that, Grandpa,” Hanan admitted, admiring the salt crystals reflecting and refracting the rays of sun. “And light remains light no matter how great the darkness.” “Indeed, Hanan,” Emet agreed. “That’s why Jesus says ‘You are the salt of the earth’ and the ‘light of the world’ but not ‘You are the Yeast of the bread.’” “Oh!” Hanan exclaimed, suddenly remembering the dough he had been kneading but had placed to the side of the workbench. With an exasperated sigh, he moaned, “Speaking of Yeast. . . .” At this, both of them burst out laughing. The dough had expanded and begun to droop off the edge of the table. “You deal with that mess,” Emet said, nodding to a customer who had just entered the bakery, “while I go serve our good friend.” “Sounds good, Grandpa. But, don’t forget to finish telling me about Andrew’s picture of Grace and Truth.” Emet winked at Hanan. “Forget? What do you think I’ve been doing, my boy?”
Comments
Post a Comment