A potentially misleading banner currently appears on the homepage of the website of the American Swedish Historical Museum, which is located here in Philadelphia. The museum, you might already know, is located on the edge of FDR Park, a large park, just off South Broad Street, across from the stadiums. And you might also know that because of the pandemic, the Philadelphia Flower Show has been taking place in FDR Park this year - outside for the first time in its 192-year history. If I may say so, the Flower Show at FDR Park is a triumph in every way. I could go on, but I won’t. Today is your last chance to see it, and if you have time, I suggest you do so.
I have been to FDR park once or twice before to let my dogs run around there. It’s the kind of place that you could imagine looked good in its prime, but you can’t quite guess when that might have been, and you’d doubt it would ever see such good days again. But the Flower Show has given tremendous new life to a segment of the 348-acre, Olmstead-designed park, in a marvelous way. The 15-acre footprint of the Flower Show is centered on the Swedish Museum, which provides a lovely visual focal point, with its understated elegance, and copper spire.
I happened to visit the Flower Show on Friday, which was an unusually chilly and rainy day, in a week that had earlier seen hot and humid temperatures in the 90s. The rain did not dampen my enjoyment of the displays one bit, though I am sure it was a frustration to organizers, as the heat must have been too.
Without having planned to, my fellow flower show fanatics and I found ourselves heading up the steps to the entrance of the Swedish Museum, as we were wrapping up our visit, and as the rain happened also to be falling a bit more steadily. We were aware that our Flower Show tickets allowed us entry to the museum, but we had not even considered the possibility we might visit. The rain was convincing, but I suspect we’d have been curious anyway, when we saw others making their way into the open door.
Now, here is where I want to suggest that the banner on the home page of the Swedish Museum’s website is a bit misleading. You see, the banner announces the following fact and condition of visitation during the Flower Show: “ASHM is only open to visitors with PHS Flower Show tickets from June 5-13.” Now, the wording of this announcement suggests the possibility that the occurrence of the Flower Show has placed limits on attendance at the museum, and that its normally robust population of visitors may be stunted or somehow diminished during the nine-day period when, sadly, only Flower Show ticket-holders will be allowed in, and droves of disappointed descendants of Swedes and possibly other Scandinavians, too, must forego their visits to this small-ish, quaint museum.
Oh, faithful worshiper, I strongly suspect that this is not the case: that the Flower Show is keeping people away from the Swedish Museum. Although I can find no publicly available attendance records for the museum, I am guessing that during the rainy half-hour I spent there on Friday, the museum must have welcomed at least as many visitors as in that half-hour as would normally enter its doors in a typical month, or maybe a year. Hundreds of us made our way inside, left our umbrellas by the door, and, free from the rain, dutifully made our way through the twelve small rooms of exhibits, heavy on etched glass, blonde wood furniture, and some lovely silver. I simply cannot believe that normally, that many hundreds of visitors would find their way to visit an out-of-the-way, niche museum of Scandinavian cultural heritage, that draws its biggest crowds as a wedding venue. I could be wrong, but I doubt it. Yes, it was true, as the banner on the website asserts, that “the ASHM is only open to visitors with PHS Flower Show tickets.” But far from imposing a limitation on the museum, I am assuming that the Flower Show may, quite literally, be the best thing that has ever happened to it.
I lay out these observations about the Swedish Museum, because I am wondering if circumstances there might help us to learn something about the kingdom of God. I’m looking for a parable that might help us appreciate the parables that we heard Jesus tell his disciples this morning. These parables are, themselves, a little like the Swedish Museum: they have been around for a long time, a lot of people may pass right by them, but they are easy to take for granted, to spend little or no time visiting, and to feel as though they leave our lives pretty much unchanged.
But the Flower Show might provide us with a little impetus to look again at the parables, since both of them are about seeds. The first parable reminds us of the developmental potential contained within a seed. And the second parable reminds us that that potential is far out of proportion to the size of the seed, and that the results can be capacious, indeed. Very well; got it. But passers-by of these parables, might well cast nothing but a short glance in their direction, and decide not to visit. And if it was the case that Jesus was trying to teach us about seeds, of either the grain or mustard variety, this state of affairs might be tolerable. But Jesus is not trying to teach us about seeds; Jesus is trying to teach us (and anyone who will listen) about the kingdom of God.
What is the kingdom of God? Is it a place, or a state of mind? Is it heaven? Or is it the accomplishment of heaven on earth? And why is it, that after centuries of hearing these parables about it, so many of us have spent so little time thinking or praying about an idea that was near the center of all Jesus’ teaching? Has anyone ever been to visit the kingdom of God? How do you find it? To be honest, there is no easy definition of the kingdom of God that the church can provide. We understand that this paucity of a clear definition is largely why Jesus spoke of the kingdom in parables.
The kingdom of God is a metaphor that Jesus wants you to use to replace other metaphors in your life. What other metaphors does Jesus want you to replace?
The metaphor of the marketplace is surely the first among them, since a market is the only thing that Jesus ever literally overthrew.
Any metaphor that begins with the words, “the war on...” is a metaphor that Jesus wants us to replace. Even if it’s a war on sickness, which Jesus dealt with a lot. But he never cured someone and told them that it was their fight that made them well. It is your faith that will make you well. Not to say that medicine and determination are uninvolved - of course they are. But it’s the metaphor I’m examining here, not the course of treatment.
Of course, there’s also the war on drugs, the war on poverty, the war we waged against this pandemic, etc. Everything’s a war, when the only tool you have is a weapon or an army. And we have literal wars, too, that last longer and longer and longer. Jesus wants us to replace these war-like metaphors with the metaphor of the kingdom, too.
Once you’ve addressed the metaphors of the marketplace and warfare in America, you often find that you don’t have much left. Our imaginations have become a little stunted over the ages, and it would take a great effort to replace just these two metaphors in our collective consciousness.
Today, of course, many thoughtful people are leery of any metaphor of kings and kingdoms, relying as they do on male-dominated hierarchical structures that typically accrue and maintain power by the use of force. Who wages wars, after all, if not kings, as even Jesus’ own parables attest?
But none of the other metaphors we might turn to - sheep in a sheepfold, or a city (on a hill or otherwise), or even a highway - is all-encompassing. And these metaphors can, themselves, be encompassed within the imaginary borders of a kingdom. And all other possible metaphors will also be imperfect, since every metaphor is imperfect.
Jesus, himself, of necessity, is usually described (not metaphorically, but literally) within the strictures of culture, gender, time, and place, although in his divinity he transcends all those limitations. It might be unreasonable to expect the metaphors that he uses to teach real people would avoid the actual particulars of their lives.
Yet, I know more than a few preachers and churches who will not turn anymore to the parables and language of kingdom anymore, precisely because of the power relationships implied by the idea of it.
It’s not as though we had been turning people away, who were arriving in their droves to inquire about the kingdom of God. The church is in real danger of resembling what I suspect the Swedish Museum has probably become: a highly specialized institution, with a narrow mission, in a nice old building, that is mostly appreciated as a wedding venue.
And what of the kingdom of God? Allow it to stand, for the moment, as the metaphor that defines the world you could live in and the terms by which you could live if we lived as God made us to live.
In that kingdom, there is only darkness when you need it or want it, but never the kind of darkness that smothers, frightens, or portends danger, let alone the darkness that sinks into depression.
In the kingdom of God there is only plenty, not want. All are fed, all are welcome, and all are loved.
In the kingdom of God there is peace; for, in the kingdom of God, everyone has what they need. And when everyone has learned not to be selfish (which is the most important lesson we have to learn in order to live in the kingdom of God), then there is no need or desire for war. And if you tried to start one, you would never be able to find anyone to fight with you - why would they bother?
Streams of living water run through the kingdom of God that bring refreshment and life wherever it is needed. And vineyards grow on the outskirts of the kingdom so there will be wine for celebration.
Everyone is given honest work in the kingdom of God and everyone is paid a good wage. There is an economy in the kingdom of God and it is defined by generosity.
The kingdom of God is a beautiful place, and beauty will be found in every corner there.
It is possible to find yourself outside the kingdom of God, but it is the dearest desire of the king that you should find your way inside. The path of selfishness is the one sure path that will lead you away from its gates and beyond its borders.
The weak, the meek, the humble, and the otherwise un-loved find themselves exalted in the kingdom of God, and all their cares attended to.
Love is the law in the kingdom of God. As such, it requires wisdom to enforce and interpret. And wisdom is widely to be found within the kingdom.
The kingdom of God is wherever and whenever God’s will is done as it is in heaven, as we pray every day might done. The metaphor might not be perfect, but God’s will is.
Astoundingly, the kingdom of God is very near to us; the kingdom is nigh at hand. Jesus taught this, too.
And yet, many of us have lost interest in it. And those who might once have been interested have often been misled by the very stewards of the kingdom, who have suggested to far too many people that the kingdom is not open and available to them, and maybe not to you. But whenever we fail to extend Christ’s invitation to the kingdom, we are doing a disservice to his ministry and to God’s kingdom.
Maybe the kingdom of God is, in fact, like a gracefully understated building with a copper spire at the apex of a beautiful garden (you can call it a flower show if you want). Maybe within that building there are twelve rooms in which every human soul may find something to gladden their hearts. Maybe that lovely building has never been very far away. Maybe you have driven past it. Maybe you never have. But still, it’s always been there. Maybe within those graceful walls there is shelter from the rain, and from everything else that troubles you and me. Maybe there is beauty there. Maybe the doors of that building are open to you, because the price has already been paid - and you didn’t have to pay it. Maybe you are aware that entry is available to you, but you’re not really sure you are interested. Maybe you only came for the flower show. Maybe you have heard messages that make you think that the kingdom cannot be meant for you. But let me tell you, these messages are misleading. In fact, they are wrong.
And there is no place better than a flower show - except perhaps a church - to see that the kingdom of God is also like a seed. And to be reminded of the unlimited developmental potential contained within that seed, and that that potential is far out of proportion to the size of the seed, and that the results will be capacious, indeed.
But the Flower Show will close today. And the Swedish Museum will drop the banner from its website, and go back to admitting a trickle of visitors, I suppose. But the kingdom of God is meant to grow - it has potential that you and I cannot imagine, and that potential is far out of the proportion to the tiny seed. So we will have to grow our seeds here on Locust Street - seeds of the kingdom. And water them. And watch them grow!
With many such parables he spoke the word to them, as they were able to hear it. He did not speak to them except in parables. But he explained everything in private to his disciples.
Thanks be to God!
Preached by Fr. Sean Mullen
13 June 2021
Saint Mark’s, Locust Street, Philadelphia
