The Payoff: Why Jesus is better with parables than J.J. Abrams

Mark 3:1-34

So, preaching on agricultural messages to a bunch of farmers is fun…

            You’re all the experts. I’m the amateur. What could possibly go wrong?

            Plus, some of Jesus’ metaphors seem counter-productive to the way those of you who farm do it. I mean, again I’m no expert, and I don’t really know about scattering seed nowadays, but I don’t see many of you walking the fields, throwing it willy-nilly all over the place in the spring. The seed companies might like that approach, just cover inch of soil with the stuff, but I’m thinking it’s probably not the most efficient way. Also, this stuff about rocky ground and paths is probably something those of you in the Red River valley have trouble understanding. There are actually these things called rocks that sometimes live in the ground in the soil.

Mind blown.

            I’m also hesitant to preach on the agricultural parables because Jesus kind of jumbles them all together, and it’s hard to know where to begin or end. There’s the seed being sowed in different places, there’s the seed sowed and forgotten, and then there’s the mustard seed. It’s like Jesus just gets on a roll and starts rambling off all the agricultural metaphors he can muster one after another. Trying to follow all of this is kind of challenging. Then, to make matters worse, there’s all this mystery and wisdom in-between, a little bit about hearing and comprehending, about secrets and an explanation of why he speaks in parables to an unbelieving world.

            And you want me to keep worship to under an hour?! Each of these demands about an hour! I hope you all brought your sleeping bags.

            So rather than interpreting the agricultural metaphors for you (after all, you’re the experts, remember!), instead I’m going to focus on Jesus’ stated purpose for all of this. He quotes from Isaiah, scripture we actually read here on Sunday morning a couple months ago (I’m sure you all remember it like it was yesterday), saying that the purpose of these parables is that we “may look, but not perceive, and my indeed listen, but not understand, so that [we] may not turn again and be forgiven.”

            Oh joy. So, outsiders are kept out, unable to understand, because—well—they’re outsiders. The Gospel of the Lord!!

Sheep are silly

Scripture: Matthew 25:31-46

This morning I’m going to serenade you with two classic ballads of the Christian faith. Each is as deeply serious as it is theologically rich. The first is entitled “Sheep Are Silly” and it goes something like this:

Sheep are silly! (Silly?) Silly, my friend.

Sheep are silly! (Silly?) Silly, my friend.

They need a shepherd. (A shepherd?) To keep them alive.

They need a shepherd (A shepherd?) To help them survive.

Sheep are silly! Silly, my friend.

And the verse ends with an invitation that all of you associate with deep religious motivation: “Get silly!”

            The second song is perhaps even more familiar, and potentially life-changing (I hope I’m not overselling this). And it goes something like this:

            I just wanna be a sheep. Bah! Bah! Bah! Bah!

            I just wanna be a sheep. Bah! Bah! Bah! Bah!

            And I pray the Lord my soul to keep

            I just wanna be a sheep. Bah! Bah! Bah! Bah!

Now there’s once verse in particular of this classic that applies to today and it goes like this:

            I don’t want to be a goat. Nope.

            I don’t want to be a goat. Nope.

            Because goats ain’t got no hope.

            I don’t want to be a goat. Nope.

            I just wanna be a sheep. Bah! Bah! Bah! Bah!

Etc, etc, etc.

I’m tempted to preach no further, instead allowing you to reflect on the depth of the lyrics of Sheep are Silly! and I just Wanna Be a Sheep, but you’re not paying me only to make a mockery of myself up here, so let me expound on the sheepy song silliness for a second,

            There are two things I actually like quite a lot about these songs anyway when it comes to their interplay with the parable of the sheep and the goats from Matthew’s Gospel. This is a hard, hard, hard parable, and these songs are immeasurably silly. That’s a point in their favor, because to the question, “Is everything a joke to you?” the only correct answer is ever, in the immortal words of Stephen Fry, “Only the things that matter.”

Every sermon I've ever given (at least this is what this one feels like)

The following is a not-so-perfect transcript of this sermon.
 
Scripture: Matthew 18:15-35

Forgiveness is an impossibly challenging thing to talk about, because, being the human beings that we are, we are always acting like human beings, and the forgiveness Jesus is talking about is God’s kind of forgiveness—a kind of forgiveness that we not only fail to understand; we also find it offensive and downright stupid.

This requires some context.

Today's reading starts out with advice about how to point out faults to another. It seems like practical advice at first glance: Give them three chances. One on your own, one with others, and lastly with the church as a whole. Churches have followed this model. It seems practical, but it's also a bit strange coming out of Jesus’ mouth. After all, this story comes immediately after the parable of the lost sheep. Jesus just went from seeking out of the one lost sheep to the possible detriment of the 99, and now he's talking about a kind of limited forgiveness. What's going on?

So Peter asks for clarification: How many times should human beings forgive? 7? 77? Or is it 70 x 7? 490? Infinite?

Apparently, it's not so clear. So, Jesus clarifies by means of a parable, which is typical Jesus, illuminating by means that seem to obscure, and this is the brunt of what I'm going to talk about today.