outreach – Dr. Kirk Lewis

A Little Mustard; A Little Leaven

Background Passages: Matthew 13:31-33; Romans 10:14-15 and James 2:15,17

We all love a good story. Great storytellers connect with us on a personal and emotional level, finding ways to engage, influence, teach and inspire all who really listen. While storytelling is both art and science, some folks are naturally gifted storytellers. Others learned the craft over time.

As I’ve studied the Bible over the years, I find myself wishing I could go back in time to walk down the road with Jesus or sit on a rock around his campfire as he was sharing a truth to everyone within earshot. Jesus rarely lectured. To get his point across, he told stories. The Bible calls these stories parables.

If you’ve read enough scripture, you know Jesus was a master storyteller. I also suspect that Jesus’ parables recorded in scripture are probably Cliff Notes versions of the real conversations, edited to the quotable parts that we might actually hear. Listening to Jesus spin his tales would be an experience unlike any other.

Drawing upon images from everyday life, he shared truths about God’s heart and about kingdom living. While we can’t hear him speak, reading his stories in the Bible is the next best thing.

The 13th Chapter of Matthew is filled with story after story that Jesus used to teach about God’s kingdom. Verse 3 says, “Then he told them many things in parables…” And, he did… especially in this chapter.

The parable of the sower and the seed. The parable of the weeds. The parable of the hidden treasure and the pearls. The parable of the net. You’ll also find the parables of the mustard seed and the leaven bread. Two quick parables in three short verses.

Take a look.

And he told them another parable: The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed, which a man took and planted in his field. Though it is the smallest of all your seeds yet when it grows, it is the largest of garden plants and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and perch in its branches.

He told them still another parable: The kingdom of heaven is like leaven that a woman took and mixed into a large amount of flour until it worked all through the dough.” (Matthew 13:31-33)

Now, had I been that fly on the deck of Jesus’ rowboat that day, I might have asked, “Jesus, would you care to elaborate? What are you getting at?” If anyone asked, scripture doesn’t tell us. So, we have to think…just as Jesus intended.

To be clear, the mustard seed is not really the smallest seed used in Jesus’ day, but it was proverbial in the first century for “smallness,” a convenient and recognizable example for something tiny or small.

The mustard seed was a garden herb common in regional cuisine of the first century. It does grow into a tree-like bush sometimes as high as 12 feet. Because of its tree-like structure, it would have not been uncommon to see birds resting, nesting and feasting on the little black seeds.

Jesus followed his tale of the mustard seed with another familiar picture drawn from everyday life. Bread was the staple of life in the first century. Leaven is nothing more than fermented dough kept over from a previous baking of bread.

Bread without leaven, unleavened bread, always baked flat, dense and hard. Leaven served the same purpose as yeast does today. Mixing leaven into fresh dough made the bread soft, porous, spongy and delicious. (I can smell it baking, can’t you?)

What truth is Jesus conveying when he used this imagery as he taught?

It could not have been easy for the disciples to watch great crowds gather around Jesus and have the majority of them walk away unaffected and unchanged by Jesus’ words. Earlier in Matthew’s gospel, they asked Jesus, “Why do you speak to the people in parables?” It’s as if they were saying, “Why do you tell these stories? Just tell them how the cow ate the cabbage.”

Jesus, in essence, told his disciples that the hearts of the people had grown calloused to the point of not hearing anything remotely resembling a sermon.

By virtue of being Jewish, they were God’s chosen after all. They could not and would not understand the unvarnished truth about the changing nature of God’s kingdom. Jesus told his disciples that he spoke in parables because “…they hardly hear with their ears and they have closed their eyes.” (Matthew 13:15)

At the end of other parables, Jesus sometimes says, “He who has ears, let him hear.” In other words, Jesus is saying, if you’re paying attention and if you’ll think about it seriously and how it fits into your life, you’ll see what I’m trying to tell you with this story.

In these verses, the picture Jesus paints with his stories is about the stunning and exponential growth of God’s kingdom.

Now, it might be helpful here to define “God’s kingdom.” When you and I declared Christ as Lord and have gave him control of our lives, we entered the kingdom of God. A group of believers who trust him as savior and live each day in the “righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit.” (Romans 14:17) It is the community of faith allowing God, through Christ, to govern the way we live.

These two parables run parallel teaching about the stunning growth of God’s kingdom. when the tiny mustard seed becomes a large tree and the lump of leaven permeates the whole dough.

Think about how it all started. Jesus and a handful of disciples working throughout Galilee and Judea, taking a message of repentance and hope to all they encountered as they lived out their lives. Each step along the way, the kingdom grew as more and more people believed in and trusted Jesus.

After Jesus’ ministry, the New Testament church began in the upper room in Jerusalem with about 100 followers, none of whom were great religious scholars. Fishermen. Tax collectors. Zealots. Poor. Uneducated. Frightened. A bunch of nobodies who found themselves with the one person who was the glue holding them together.

Through the power of the Holy Spirit and over the span of 2,000 years, the kingdom of God has grown beyond expectation. From this mustard seed, this lump of leaven, the gospel of Christ has spread throughout the world. In doing so, it has become a place of spiritual food and rest for the birds in its branches and a transforming power in the world’s lump of dough.

Yet, there is a reason why these parables still speak to us today. It’s the same reason Jesus told them in the first place.

We live in a world today in which the hearts of people have grown calloused. By virtue of living in a “Christian country,” we assume some favored status in God’s kingdom. We’ve become some hard-hearted in our culture that we “hardly hear with our ears and we have closed our eyes” to his truth.

Recent statistics show that the number of non-churched, unchurched and de-churched people is growing at about 10 percent each decade. In other words, the population non-believers, believers who have never plugged into a church after committing their lives to Christ increases a bit each year.

The number of those believers who left the church because they were hurt by someone or something within the church keeps growing as the church itself is shrinking. It is an alarming trend.

That phenomenon becomes more and more evident over the past 50 years. We could easily list the reasons behind the decline, but that’s not really the point here. I think the only reason that matters is that the church quit consistently reaching out in ministry and love.

We open our doors, very willing to love and help all who enter our doors, but we rarely do as Jesus did and go out to meet them where they live. To ministry in the neighborhoods.

In Paul’s letter to the church in Rome, he told them how to become a part of the kingdom of God.

If you confess with your mouth, “Jesus is Lord,” and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved…Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.” (Romans 10:9, 13)

Then, Paul issues the challenge that reverberates from the 1st century to the 21st.

How then, can they call on the name of the one they have not believed in? And how can they believe in the one in whom they have not heard? And how they can hear without someone preaching to them? And. how can they preach unless they are sent? As it is written, how beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news.” (Romans 10:14-15)

Author Cecil Northcott once told of an international evangelical convention he attended to discuss how the gospel might be spread. The people in attendance talked about the distribution of literature, large scale revivals and other means available in the early 20th century. Then, one girl from Africa spoke.

“When we want to take Christianity into one of our villages” she said, “we don’t send them books. We send a Christian family to live in the village and they make the village Christian by living there.”

That’s how it’s supposed to work, I think. We can’t wait for the lost and the hurting to come to us first, though some do. We most often must go to them. We must be there ready to love and care for them. We can’t ignore their existence or fail to meet their needs.

“Suppose a brother or sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to him, “Go, I wish you well. Keep warm and well fed,” but does nothing about his physical needs, what good is it? In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead.” James 2:15-17)

If we fail to be the church outside the walls, we will soon become the empty church within the walls.

As we recently visited many churches throughout Eastern Europe, it was profoundly sad to see these churches become little more than museums of time gone by. How different would it be if they were more mission and less museum?

As more and more people become disillusioned and de-churched, I fear our own churches throughout America will become these cold museums, relics of a time in history.

Jesus told his parables to connect with people. His stories used the ordinary to teach extraordinary spiritual truths. He didn’t print them up and hit them over the head with a tract. He told his stories. Made connections. Built relationships. Met needs. Then, he loved them into the God’s kingdom.

You and I and all who profess a faith in Christ, have a story to tell. It is the good news of Christ…his free gift of grace available to all. It is also the love expressed by God’s people as we go out into our respective communities on mission to love and serve.

I think that’s the challenge of these marvelous parables. God’s desire is for the world to be saved and for his kingdom to grow. Be the mustard seed. The only way for that to happen is for his people to be the leaven that causes it to rise.

———

I’ll beg your indulgence and forgiveness for this personal note.

I am a member of South Main Baptist Church. We’ve been blessed for almost seven decades with wonderful pastors and a service approach to ministry and missions. I’ve been blessed by the preaching of our new pastor, the worship through singing and praise, the great Bible teaching and the opportunities to serve.

Our people recently adopted a new mission statement. It promises that our church is in an ongoing mission to be “engaging and equipping others to experience and share God’s transforming love.”

The desire is to keep stepping outside the physical confines of the church to build relationships with our community and encouraging others to join us as we grow together in the work of Christ. Our desire is for the kingdom of God to increase as more and more people discover God’s grace and love.

Toward that end, we will be gathering at 5:30 p.m., Wednesday, May 31, at Pasadena’s Crenshaw Park Softball Fields for “First Pitch”–a little kick ball, a bunch of free hot dogs, family games and an open invitation to let us get to know you.

For the better part of four decades, South Main has made two promises to those who come to us. “We promise to love you and let you love us” as we serve our Lord together.

We’re not perfect, but we strive to be more Christ-like every day. If you’re longing to find a church where you can serve and be served, drop by for a visit. We’d love to get to know you and let you get to know us.

Hope to see you there.

Finding Your Mephibosheth

Background Passages: 2 Samuel 9:1-7 and Galatians 5:22-23, 25

Small acts of kindness can make a huge impact. A smile, a thoughtful word, a warm muffin found on a desk, or a hug can make the sun shine brighter and the day seem better. That’s the premise behind the idea of Random Acts of Kindness.

Started in Denver, Colorado, in 1995, the idea behind Random Acts is to somehow make the world a better place by making kindness a part of our everyday lives. It’s a nice sentiment. The world needs to be a kinder, gentler place.

As one who has received these random gifts of kindness throughout my life, I understand the impact. To limit kindness to a blueberry muffin, however, diminishes its impact.

Those who study words tell us that “kindness” has its origin in the Middle Ages. In the language of that period “kind” and “kin” were the same. It seems to suggest that to demonstrate kindness was to treat someone like kin…like family. That presents the term in ways that can hardly be random.

As often happens, the idea of kindness has bounced around my brain for a couple of weeks. I was recently asked by my church to share a thought on the character of David at our Wednesday night Bible study. In the course of preparation, I rediscovered the story of David’s interaction with Jonathan’s disabled son, Mephibosheth. The story reveals much more about kindness than any random act.

For years the schizophrenic and paranoid King Saul chased after David to eliminate the one whom God had chosen to take his place. He saw David as a threat. Despite numerous opportunities to do so, David could not raise a hand against Saul or his family because of the deep bond of love and friendship David developed through the years with Saul’s son, Jonathan.

In a particularly difficult time in David’s life, Jonathan went behind his father’s back and told David of Saul’s plan to kill him. David pledged to always look after the family of Saul and Jonathan. Years later, Saul and Jonathan are killed in battle. It now appears that all of Saul’s male descendants have died.

Now king of Israel, David felt the emptiness in his life without Jonathan. Hear David’s heartfelt plea in 2 Samuel 9:1.

“David asked, ‘Is there anyone still left of the house of Saul to whom I may show the kindness of God?’”

“The kindness of God.”

The choice of those words struck me. Why not just, “Is there anyone left of the house of Saul to whom I may show kindness.” David’s kindness. A random act of kindness. Instead, the phrase reads, “kindness of God.”

Let’s go back to the definition. In her book The Kindness of God, Catholic theologian Janet Soskice made the link between “kind” and “kin.” She wrote, “To say that Christ is ’our kind Lord’ is not to say that Christ is tender or gentle, although that may be implied, but to say that he is kin…our kind.”

It’s an interesting twist if indeed to be kind meant to be kin. The kindness of God within this context means that God became my kin…my family…my father. Through Jesus’ sacrifice and my faith commitment, I become part of the family of God.

David’s desire to show the kindness of God indicates his wish to find someone whom he could love and treat as family. As the story unfolds in 2 Samuel 9, David finds a sole survivor…Mephibosheth, a young disabled boy, hiding in fright in a remote village on the other side of the Jordan River.

David had the authority, power and historical permission as the victorious king to put Mephibosheth to death. He didn’t do that. When he found Mephibosheth he called him to Jerusalem, not to enslave him or kill him, but to extend God’s kindness to him.

“Do not be afraid for I will surely show you kindness for the sake of your father Jonathan. I will restore to you all the land that belonged to your grandfather Saul, and you will always eat at my table.” (2 Samuel 9:7)

David did not extend a token gesture. His offer was extravagant. He gave Mephibosheth all that once belong to Saul and a place in his household. What an extreme act of kindness and grace!

What he did demonstrated love toward someone who did not deserve it, could never earn it and would never be able to repay it. His kindness or kin-ness made Mephibosheth a part of David’s family…someone invited to sit at the king’s table.

If this idea of kin-ness is at the heart of kindness, then it seems to require us to see others in the image of God, worthy of our honest connection, regardless of life’s circumstance. It seems the ultimate act of kindness and kin-ness is to invite people to be a part of God’s family…to welcome them to the table.

Kindness, then, is more than a random act. It is that thread of unfailing love that ought to be the lifestyle of any child of God seeking to live as the image of God in a cruel world.

The amazing thing is that God, through his indwelling Spirit, gives us the capacity for exactly that kind of godly kindness. Paul points out that the life of a Christian ought to reflect the character and nature of God as revealed by his Spirit.

“But the fruit of the spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control…Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit.” (Galatians 5:22-23, 25)

The thing about the fruit of the spirit is that, unlike the gifts of the spirit which are given to each of us uniquely and individually, God doesn’t give us different fruit based on our personalities. He does not allow us to pick and choose which fruit we get to live out. He expects us to live out each one…each day…in every circumstance of life…to live by the spirit and keep step with the spirit.

Sadly, we live within a cultural pandemic of condemnation and judgment, characterized by a lack of kindness. Those who live a life of kindness, of kinship, look every day for the next Mephibosheth. They look for someone to show “the kindness of God,” not just as some random act, but as an intentional choice to let someone sit at your table. To build relationships. Meaningful connections. To create opportunities to show the love of Christ in the things we think, say and do for them. To be kind, to be kin, is to love as Christ loved.

Don’t you see, God is kind because he cannot be otherwise. It is his nature. When we give our lives to Jesus and open our hearts to God’s spirit, kindness becomes a part of our new nature. It is the make-up of that “new creation” that Paul talks about in 2 Corinthians 5:17, a reflection of God in us.

The English poet Roberts Burns said, “It is the heart benevolent and kind that most resembles God.” David’s innate and God-inspired kindness was one of the reasons he was called a “man after God’s own heart,” God’s choice to be Israel’s king. His kindness made him a great ruler.

According to Mark Twain, “Kindness is a language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see.” I suspect it is a language that will make even those who find it hard to walk in the presence of the King leap for joy.

What about you? Is there anyone out there to whom you can show the kindness of God? If you keep asking the question, God will bring you one Mephibosheth after another who needs your kindness…your kin-ness.

God simply asks that when we find our Mephibosheths, we invite them to eat at our table.

Puzzle Pieces

Background Passage: Corinthians 12

Josiah, my youngest grandson, loves to work jigsaw puzzles. The bigger the better. His self-imposed lower limit is 300 pieces. At six-years-old, he has far more patience at the process than do I. His gift for spatial awareness eludes me. He sees a gap in the puzzle, scans the available, intricately designed pieces and almost always finds the right piece. It’s uncanny.

I kept Eli and Josiah by myself for two days this week while their parents prepared for a new school year and Grandma was out of town. Josiah asked me to work a couple of jigsaw puzzles with him. Though not a big fan of puzzles, I joined him. He put in five pieces for each one I found.

At one point, he held a piece between two fingers, remarking about the “uniqueness of its shape.” He handed it to me and said, “It’s easier to find where they go if they’re unique.” Then, he laughed. What I heard was, “Here, Grandpa, even you should be able to find the place for this one.”

But, he’s right. The most difficult puzzles are those where the shape of every piece is exactly the same. Without realizing it, Josiah reminded me of a beautiful biblical truth. We are each uniquely made by a loving Creator who has a place and a purpose for us all.

The Corinthian church struggled with that concept. Paul found a way to address the issue to prevent the first-century church from tearing itself apart.

Step back into the first century.

Corinth sat on a major trade route. People from all over the world entered its gates. Walked its streets. Engaged in commerce. Bringing with them their cultural, social and religious mores. An ethnically and socially diverse community, the blend of culture created an atmosphere of intense immorality and idolatry.

Corinth’s depraved reputation unnerved Paul prior to his first visit there. In I Corinthians 2:3 he admits, “I came to you (that first time) in weakness, with much fear and trembling.”

Though he had been successful in establishing new churches in other Greek communities, he also faced brutal opposition. It is hard to image any situation causing the faithful and powerful disciple to tremble. Along his way to Corinth, the images of Daniel in a lion’s den surely crept to mind.

Though anxious about the reception his message would receive, Paul preached “not with wise and persuasive words (of man), but with the power of the Holy Spirit,” a God-inspired message that fell on receptive ears and believing hearts.

Just a few years later, word came from Corinth about the struggles of the church. It didn’t take long for some in the church to believe their work, their God-given gifts, were of greater worth and value than others. You see, they began to believe that the shape of their jigsaw puzzle piece made them more important than other more ordinary pieces. With each declaration of supremacy, the wedge of bitterness split them apart.

Paul dispelled that notion.

“There are different kinds of gifts, but the same spirit distributes them. There are different kinds of service, but the same Lord. There are different kinds of workings, but in all of them and in everyone the same God at work.”

Paul goes on to list a series of unique spiritual gifts of great benefit to the church, but he adds at the end…

“All of these are the work of one Spirit, and he distributes them to each one just as he determines.”

In other words, God gives to you those gifts he needs you to have at a time in your life when you need to have them. It is for you to use to do the work he needs you to do.

Every gift we’ve been given, Paul writes, has been given to us for “the common good,” as a means of building up the church, its members and reaching out to a lost and misguided world. If God grants that gift for a purpose, no gift is more important than the other. No one role more critical than another.

Jigsaw puzzles didn’t hit the market until 18 centuries after Paul’s letter to the Corinthians so he used a different illustration to make his point.

“Just as the body, though one, has many parts…so it is with Christ…If the whole body were an eye, where would the sense of hearing be? If the whole body were an ear, where would the sense of smell be? But in fact, God has placed the parts, all of them, in the body just as he wanted them to be.”

The eye needs the hand and the head needs the feet, Paul said. Every part of the body has a role to play in God’s purpose and plan. If one part feels superior or one part feels it doesn’t belong, if we push aside a part because we don’t care for its looks, or, if every part of the body is exactly the same, the body loses its God-created uniqueness.

Josiah will tell you the unique pieces of a jigsaw puzzle allow us to pull the puzzle together. Each piece connects with those around it. We build around those easily identifiable pieces, making new connections as we go until the puzzle is a completed picture.

In the same way, our individual strengths allow us to find our place in God’s picture. When we are in the right place, properly using the gifts we’ve been given, it allows others to more easily connect to the body of Christ…to find their place in his picture.

The work of the church ought to be about helping others find their place in God’s picture. Celebrating the God-designed differences. Making those critical connections with one another that draw us together in one body, one spirit, rather than ripping us apart. When we find that unique piece, we ought to be able to fit it into the mission and ministry of the church. As Josiah said, “Even you can do it, Grandpa.”

The challenge before the 21st century church is to make new connections in a Corinthian world. Connecting each other into kingdom work and extending beyond the walls of the church to reach those who do not hear God calling them to be a part of his bigger picture.

The diversity of the church is its strength. Your uniqueness and mine play important and distinctive roles in the kingdom of God. When we don’t play our part, or minimize the part of others, or fail to pull all the pieces together, we create a hole in God’s plan…his work remains unfinished.

We find ourselves in a time when the people of God are being pushed into the corner by the world around us. It’s easy to isolate ourselves from those indifferent or intolerant to our faith. Now is not the time to huddle. Now is the time to reach out and find those unique pieces; to begin putting the puzzle together once more.

Every time he works a jigsaw puzzle, I play a game with Josiah. Somewhere in the process, when he’s not looking, I’ll hide a piece. When the work is done, he discovers a hole in the puzzle. The picture is incomplete. I attempt to save the day by “finding” what I’ve hidden and putting in the last piece. We wrestle and laugh as he takes the piece away from me. Finally, he plugs the final piece into its spot and beams.

The angels in heaven beam every time we connect a new piece to the puzzle that is God’s kingdom. Image the celebration that will occur when the heavenly puzzle is complete.

The Mountain God Forgot

Rising from the seaside in steep elevations, the barren mountains surrounding Collique, Peru, outside of Lima, reflect the hopelessness seen in the eyes of its people. Devoid of life. Buried beneath layers of grayish-brown soil. Crushed by the mass of humanity. Gridlocked in hopelessness.

Every step taken by the hundreds of thousands of people populating the hillside in lean-tos constructed of cardboard and tin, kicks up powdery earth, making it hard to determine if the haze above the sprawling squalor is pollution from Lima or dust from under foot. To the American eye Collique is both alien and alienated. A friend called it “the mountain God forgot.” No grandeur in its creation. No grace in its spirit.

Staring into the haze, I was reminded of God’s word in Matthew 5:16…

“Let your light so shine before men that they may see your good works and glorify your Father which is in Heaven.”

God calls us to good work. To reach out to the harmed and the hopeless with helping and healing hands, offering change to body and soul. Beyond the immediate impact. Beyond the experience of one. The kind of change that sustains from one generation to the next. Such is the power of Christ. That a single life changed for good, now possesses a soul with a burning desire to make a difference in the lives of others.
We are called to make a difference.

I had the privilege this week of serving with members of South Main Baptist Church, Pasadena, and Christians from across the country, on a mission effort in Collique, providing improved shelter and health care for those living on the steep, dusty slopes of the forgotten mountain. Sponsored by Operation San Andres, an extraordinary effort led by Houston cardiologist Dr. Luis Campos, OSA stands as an oasis of hope and help amid poverty deeper than anything you can imagine.

Our team worked quickly to build a two-room home on the side of the mountain for a family of six, little more than a backyard storage shed to us. Yet, it was a dwelling that would make a difference to 10-year-old Maria and her family.

Maria’s smile and personality captured my heart upon meeting her. She radiated intelligence, curiosity and affection. She would peek around a corner in wide-eyed wonder at the work being done only to duck way when noticed. It was not long, however, when our smiles and encouragement drew her out. The lives of Maria and her family exuded joy that only God can bring to those living in such conditions. As we showed them through their new living quarters, their expressions of delight were contagious. Through the existing language barriers, we felt their gratitude and shared a blessing we all knew came from God.

The new home will make only a little change in their current living condition, but it is a chance. A difference. Among a people who seem beaten down and battered by a brutal life existence, OSA makes a difference. We will never know the generational impact of the seed planted here and now. OSA and its many volunteers reach out with the practical expression of God’s love, renovating a lifestyle and rejuvenating the spirit of those whose lives are touched.

I am now certain. The mountain was not forgotten by God. Psalm 90:1 reminds me…

“Lord, you have been our dwelling place for generations. Before the mountains were born from everlasting to everlasting, you are God.”

In other words, God knew what he was creating among the mountains of Collique. Created in his wisdom and for his purpose. God does not forget his creation.

Then again in Psalm 90:17, we extend our prayer…

“May the favor of the Lord rest upon us. Prosper the work of our hands.”

God grants to us opportunities to serve. Opportunities to make a difference. He takes that simple service we offer and makes it prosper, grow, expand and extend for generations to come. What we did this week made a difference to Maria, my little sister-in-Christ. As God prospers the work, that little difference, coupled with the hope of the better life it provides, will, through Maria and her family, change the people of Collique for generations to come.