March 27, 2022

Do the Next Thing

Passage: Matthew 13:31-35
Service Type:

The kingdom of heaven is like…Pretty much all of Matthew chapter 13 is focused on this one idea.  What is the kingdom of heaven like?  Last week we read how Jesus compared the kingdom of heaven to a merchant who goes off in search of fine pearls, and upon finding one, sells all he has to buy the pearl.  The kingdom of heaven is also like a treasure, hidden in a field, and when someone discovers it, they sell all they have to purchase the field.  These parables got us thinking about how the kingdom of heaven is exceedingly valuable, and is the result of us choosing and prioritizing God’s will.  Anyplace God’s will is being done, that is the kingdom of heaven.

And God’s will being done is Jesus’ very reason for existence!  His life is 100% about doing God’s will.  By doing God’s will, he came to usher in a new kingdom, a spiritual realm of grace and compassion and justice and peace.  These parables invite us to use our imaginations to better envision the kingdom, but the kingdom of heaven is not an imagined reality.  It is the plane of existence in which the very best parts of ourselves find abundant and eternal life.

Which is good news, because the ordinary plane of existence is pretty bleak right now.  As world citizens, we are painfully aware of Russia’s war in Ukraine and the humanitarian crisis this has caused.  We are tired of the continued pandemic and the suffering and frustration this has caused.  We are worried about climate change, the economy, crime, racial justice, and our schools.  Headline news reminds us that there is so much brokenness in our society.  It’s depressing and discouraging.

These are feelings likely shared by Jesus’ original audience.  Life in the Roman Empire was no picnic!  Israel had been overtaken by the Romans.  The presence of the Roman military in Israel was, like COVID for us, not welcome!  There were groups of zealots who from time to time organized rebellions, but they were quickly stamped out by the powerful Romans.  Israel’s government was beholden to Rome.  The average citizen had very little power to affect big picture change.  Their only hope was to live as faithfully as possible so the Messiah would come.

Jesus’ audience was hoping for a savior who would sweep in and, in dramatic fashion, gain decisive victories for Israel that would expel the Romans and restore their previous way of life.  As we move closer to Palm Sunday and Good Friday, it’s important to keep this mismatch of expectations in mind.  Jesus told these parables so that those who were open to seeing things differently would learn that the kingdom of heaven is different from earthly kingdoms.  It’s a kingdom where the first shall be last and the last shall be first.  It’s the kingdom Mary sang about in The Magnificat, which we often read during Advent.  “My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord,” Mary sang, “He has cast down the mighty from their thrones and has lifted up the humble.  He has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich he has sent away empty.”  The kingdom of heaven often works in ways exactly opposite our earthly kingdoms!

And the way the kingdom of heaven is established might be surprising, too.  Most of the time it’s not with great dramatic displays, but with small, ordinary actions.  Planting a small seed.  Introducing a small amount of leaven.  Doing small things, as Mother Teresa said, “with great love.”  That is how the kingdom of heaven is built.  Our small actions, coupled with God’s amazing grace, turn the little seed into a large bush that provides shade, shelter, and sustenance.  Our small actions, apertures of God’s amazing grace, turn flour and leaven into a large, nourishing loaf.

But with so much turmoil in the world, we can start to wonder if our small actions will make a difference.  Or even which small action to take.  The discouraging and depressing voices around us, and sometimes inside of us, zap us of our energy and make us question our ability to make a difference.  Our one little candle seems so insignificant compared to the abyss of darkness around us.

One mantra I have found helpful is “Do the next thing.”  I picked this up from a Christian author named Elisabeth Elliot.  She and her husband Jim were missionaries to the Auca Indians in Ecuador. Jim was martyred alongside four other missionaries on January 8, 1956. After her husband’s death, Elisabeth spent two years preparing, and then went to go live among the tribe that killed her husband with her three-year-old daughter, Valarie.  Elisabeth Elliot always seemed to me to be a mustard seed story.  Her brave choice to forgive the people who killed her husband, and go live with them, led not only to people there becoming Christians, but through her writings, she strengthened the faith of countless people on several continents.  I remember hearing about her at my church while I was in middle school!  That one little introduction to a missionary, and I’m still thinking about her and being blessed by her.

Elizabeth Elliot passed away in 2015, but her wisdom lives on.  Let me quote from her essay, “Do the Next Thing”:

When I went back to my jungle station after the death of my first husband, Jim Elliot, I was faced with many confusions and uncertainties. I had a good many new roles, besides that of being a single parent and a widow. I was alone on a jungle station that Jim and I had manned together. I had to learn to do all kinds of things, which I was not trained or prepared in any way to do. It was a great help to me simply to do the next thing.

Have you had the experience of feeling as if you’ve got far too many burdens to bear, far too many people to take care of, far too many things on your list to do? You just can’t possibly do it, and you get in a panic and you just want to sit down and collapse in a pile and feel sorry for yourself.

Well, I’ve felt that way a good many times in my life, and I go back over and over again to an old Saxon legend, which I’m told is carved in an old English parsonage somewhere by the sea. I don’t know where this is. But this is a poem which was written about that legend. The legend is “Do the next thing.” And it’s spelled in what I suppose is Saxon spelling. “D-O-E” for “do,” “the,” and then next, “N-E-X-T.” “Thing”-“T-H-Y-N-G-E.”

The poem says, “Do it immediately, do it with prayer, do it reliantly, casting all care. Do it with reverence, tracing His hand who placed it before thee with earnest command. Stayed on omnipotence, safe ‘neath His wing, leave all resultings, do the next thing.” That is a wonderfully saving truth. Just do the next thing.

So I went back to my station, took my ten-month-old baby, tried to take each duty quietly as the will of God for the moment.

She went on to write, “What is the next thing for you to do? Small duties, perhaps? Jobs that nobody will notice as long as you do them? A dirty job that you would get out of if you could have your own preferences? Are you asked to take some great responsibility, which you really don’t feel qualified to do? You don’t have to do the whole thing right this minute, do you? I can tell you one thing that you do have to do right this minute. It’s the one thing that is required of all of us every minute of every day. Trust in the living God.

The parables of the mustard seed and the leaven give me such hope!  We live in a culture that prizes its five-year plans and strategic thinking and SMART goals.  All these are important.  But most important is the vision, and for Jesus, the vision was the kingdom of heaven.  The most important thing we can do to contribute to the kingdom of heaven is to trust God.  And if we trust God, God will bring us, time and time again, to the next right thing.  Step by step God leads, and step by step we follow.  Plant your small seed, and trust God for the growth. Work your small amount of leaven into the dough, and trust God for the transformation.  This is Discipleship 101.

The words, “Do the next thing” can be a helpful guide when the way is hard to discern.  This week our Church Council spent some time thinking about what our Sunday morning schedule is going to look like next fall.  Before the pandemic, we used to have three in-person services every Sunday morning and no online offerings.  Now we have two in-person services every Sunday morning and a weekly online worship service.  What arrangement will best suit the needs of our congregation when we “get back to normal” next fall?  We don’t know!

But we realized, while we don’t have all the answers, there are next things we can do.  First, we decided we need to dig deeper into the WHY of worship.  We are going to spend the month of June focusing our sermons on that topic.  Second, we are developing a congregational survey to give us more information about everyone’s needs and preferences.  And third, we’re going to try to reestablish some kind of adult choir.  While none of these actions provides the whole solution, each one will contribute a piece to the puzzle.  By doing small things with great love, we hope to see God’s vision for our worship offerings at Lima realized.

This week, I went to Riddle Village to participate in a time of remembrance for Rev. Janet Hess.  We will be hosting her memorial service at Lima on April 9, but the residents of Riddle Village wanted to have something for her there.  I got to talking to the people who cleaned out her apartment after she died, and Janet had a lot of treasures in there!  Much of that treasure is now in the parsonage garage, awaiting our rummage sale at the end of April.  It made me think of something we read last week in worship.  After telling several parables about the kingdom of heaven, Jesus “checked for understanding”, as all good teachers do.  He wanted to be sure his disciples were getting the point of his teaching.  When they assured him they did understand, he offered this assurance, “Every scribe, who has been instructed in the Kingdom of Heaven, is like the owner of a house who brings out of his storeroom new treasures as well as old.”

The level of anxiety, anger, and angst in our world is enough to make even the most confident among us start to question if we can make a difference.  But Jesus has an answer to our doubt.  All we need is a little mustard seed, a little leaven, a little faith.  To do something small with great love.  And you know, this small thing does not have to be universally appreciated.  Most of the time in the Bible, leaven is a negative thing—it’s seen as a little toxic agent that ruins a large quantity.  But here Jesus uses it as a positive.  Maybe the one small thing God is calling you to do next will be controversial!  As long as we stay focused on the kingdom of heaven—as long as we stay focused on doing God’s will—we will be people who are able to contribute treasures from the old and new for the good of the world.

On this fourth Sunday of Lent, I wonder, what is the next thing for you?  Maybe you’d like to do some gardening.  Maybe you’d like to bake some bread.  Find a way to spend some time with God. Slow down for loving union, and let God’s love infiltrate way down deep inside of you.  So deep, that beautiful new growth might take root.  So deep that you rise and grow and nourish others.  Do the next small, right thing, and see how God uses it for love.  Amen.

 

 

 

 

 

Benediction:  May we find the road that leads to life;

may we take the turns that bring right relationships;

may we pause to accompany others on the way;

and may we journey with God through Lent,

slowing down for Loving Union.  Amen.