The Parable of Ricky Bobby - Mark 4:26-34

In the words of Jesus, “With what can we compare the kingdom of God, or what parable will we use for it?” How about this: the kingdom of God is like adopting a five week old kitten off the streets of Little Rock. If you are more of a dog person than a cat person, you are welcome to imagine a puppy in this parable, but I’ll give you the kitten version. The kitty is a small gray puffball and super friendly because somehow it doesn’t know what danger is yet. Your teenager names it Ricky Bobby, after the Will Farrell character in the movie “Talladega Nights.” That Ricky Bobby was a very fast race car driver with the motto, “If you ain’t first, you’re last.” As the kitten races around the house faster than seems possible, the family recites the Ricky Bobby motto. They also note each time that it is the opposite of what Jesus always said. Bonus points for a kitten who prompts Jesus comments in the home. Ricky Bobby quickly melts everyone’s heart, and even the older pets are accepting of the new addition. Another bonus is that anytime someone in the house feels upset or worried about something, all they have to do is fetch the kitten for some play time. It’s hard to stay worried when Ricky Bobby is trying to attack your hands and feet but is just too little to do any harm. And then, when the kitten runs out of steam, he purrs himself to sleep on your shoulder. The whole family finds itself surprised by the unexpected summer joy brought by this little addition.

I’m pretty sure that any preacher with a new kitten will find a way to tell the congregation about him in a sermon. But the parable of Ricky Bobby is honestly similar to the one Jesus told about the mustard seed. Jesus was masterful at using the stuff of everyday life to describe holy things. He described the kingdom of God as yeast, a pearl, as treasure buried in a field, and also as a successful fishing trip on a number of occasions. To me, that’s right up there with a summer kitten. Jesus was not a systematic theologian who used impossibly long German words for God. Time and again he pointed to regular stuff around us, to everyday life, and asked people to look at it differently to see God in it and in one another.

When it comes to the parable of the mustard seed, I do think the people who were familiar with his preaching strategy might have thought that he took this one too far. A mustard seed, tiny and insignificant, is a stretch for the kingdom of God. Yes, it grows tall for a shrub and birds can nest in it, which is almost acceptable for a divine metaphor. But the mustard in question is basically a weed that spreads on its own in the Middle East. It’s like kudzu, or the bamboo that takes over your yard. The mustard seed image would probably have gotten a good laugh from the audience. John Dominic Crossan points out that if Jesus had said something more predictable, say “The kingdom of God is like the great cedars of Lebanon,” everyone would have yawned. The mustard strategy would surely have gotten their attention in a different way.

It’s also no accident that Jesus rejected the great cedars of Lebanon approach. There are places in the Hebrew Scriptures where tall, mighty trees are used as symbols for earthly empires, rich and powerful and militaristic. Jesus is clear that the kingdom of God is not like those. The kingdom of God will not take over the world through force. Instead, it will spread and thrive through non-violent attraction, through things like mercy, love, and sacrifice, and through what one writer called “left-handed power.” Great cedars, or great empires, will rise and fall, but the kingdom of God will keep spreading like kudzu or stray cats. And it will be everywhere.

To me, the heart of the parable is that the kingdom of God starts as tiny seeds and spreads everywhere. The kingdom is already in our lives, but we have to look at things differently in order to see it. That’s why Jesus used common images like mustard seeds. What looks ordinary from one perspective can be holy from another. And this has been true since the beginning of creation. As long as the world has been the world, it has also been the kingdom of God. It’s a matter of perspective, of revelation. The writer who described the left-handed power of the kingdom said it this way: “The world’s progress through history isn’t a transition from non-kingdom to kingdom; rather, it is progress from kingdom-in-a-mystery to kingdom-made-manifest,” that is, the kingdom of God revealed (Robert Capon).

If the cat and mustard metaphors aren’t quite working for you, take bread as another example. Bread is just bread when you look at it, but it is also the sunshine and rain that nourished the wheat. It is also the hands that kneaded it and the energy that baked it. It is representative of the whole of God’s good creation, contained on a smaller scale. And when we break bread together in this place, it is the means through which we know that Christ is here with us. Communion bread is the body of the one who died and rose again. Just as Jesus taught, over and over again, it’s all in how you look at it. Heaven can indeed be seen in earthly things.

Today’s Gospel has something else to offer, too. If, by chance, you’ve been upset or worried about things lately, the parable of the mustard seed is especially for you. It promises that not matter how heavy the weight of the world is on your shoulders, God’s kingdom will continue to unfold anyway, and spread like a prolific plant. In a sermon on the mustard seed, Barbara Brown Taylor described human worry as the “occupational hazard of being a finite creature in a universe of infinite possibilities… What is absent when anxiety is present is faith that God will be God, that the automatic earth will yield its fruit, and that life can be trusted.”  Our anxieties are no match for the ongoing unfolding of the kingdom of God.

And if, by chance, you need to be reminded of good and holy things this morning, you can take Jesus’ advice and look at the ordinary stuff in your life from a slightly different angle. The metaphors are endless, each promising that the kingdom of God is close at hand. And remember that even the smallest ones can bring great joy.

And if, by chance, you find yourself with a small, unexpected gray kitten purring itself to sleep on your shoulder, be sure to give thanks to God for a sound of the kingdom.