Some things just don’t “go viral”—not on their own, anyway.  The last time data was collected (which was December of 2014), an estimated 300 hours of video are uploaded to Youtube per minute.  That means that if you spend fifteen minutes reading this post, then by the time you are done there will be an additional 4500 hours of video on Youtube that was never there before.  If you work an 8-hour workday, that means you work roughly 2000 hours per year.  So—get this—if you want to watch all the video that’s been put on Youtube since you read this post, it would take over two years of full-time employment.

What does that mean?  It means that viral videos start as needles in a very large haystack.  But under the right conditions, they emerge and spread like wildfire.  Something similar happens with God’s kingdom:

33 He told them another parable. “The kingdom of heaven is like leaven that a woman took and hid in three measures of flour, till it was all leavened.” (Matthew 13:33)

In his analysis of this parable, Robert Farrar Capon writes that sometimes even our resistance to God’s will can ultimately lead to accomplishing God’s will:

“And even your negative responses—even your pointless resistances to the kingdom—interfere only with your own convenience, not with its working…Unless the dough is kneaded thoroughly—unless it resists and fights the baker enough to develop gluten and form effective barriers to the yeast’s working—then the gases produced by the yeast will not be entrapped in cells that can lighten the lump into a loaf.  Who knows, therefore?  Maybe even our foot-dragging and our backsliding—maybe even the gummy, intractable mess of our sins—is just all in a day’s leavening to the Word who is the Yeast who lightens our lumpishness.”(Robert Farrar Capon, The Parables of the Kingdom, p. 120-2)

Think about this for a second: can you think of circumstances in which resisting God has prevented God’s will from happening? 

For some the answer could be “yes,” though I suspect that resistance to God’s will only lasts for so long.  When Joseph confronted his estranged brothers—the ones who had jealously left him for dead before he became an official in Egypt—he told them “You intended to harm me, but God used it for good” (Genesis 50:20).

Many religions stress the power of a god to overcome the will of the disobedient.  We might cite Islam—whose very name means “submission.”  Christianity emphasizes conformity to the will of God—yet never through force or manipulation.  Instead, God works his will through us—like the baker with the dough—so that through the process of life with God our rough spots, our tendency to resist can be tenderly kneaded into God’s kingdom program.

We’ve lived so long in the age of supermarkets that we forget what life must have been like for those who baked their own bread.  But for the pre-industrial world, baking bread is a skill necessary to human survival.  What makes bread “rise” is the presence of yeast.  Yeast, as you might know, is a fungus.  Not the most pleasant of words, but, well, that’s what it is.  When the yeast organisms get to work, they break down larger compounds (like sugar) and release carbon dioxide through a process called fermentation.  When this gas is released, the “pockets” of carbon dioxide cause the bread to rise and expand.

So…that’s what causes dough to rise? Fermentation?  Fungus?!?  Well, if you’re going to put it like that, then…yes; yes it is.  Drill down to the core essentials, and life rarely seems all that pretty.  But the process is necessary if you enjoy—I dunno—sandwiches, bagels, or pizza.

Jesus therefore uses this same process to illustrate the growth of the kingdom

33 He told them another parable. “The kingdom of heaven is like leaven that a woman took and hid in three measures of flour, till it was all leavened.” (Matthew 13:33)

By now you may be getting a bit sick of reading this one-sentence parable.  But let’s take a closer look.  In his book Thy Kingdom Connected, Dwight Friesen sees the “hiddenness” of the kingdom as “best understood in relational terms:”

“Interpersonal relational connections are rarely flashy events or big programs; rather, they are the relatively mundane stuff of life – connecting with your neighbor and bringing them a casserole when a grandmother passes away, or building a friendship with the older man whose cubicle is next to yours.  Simply connecting while living in the way of Christ is how the kingdom of God transforms the world. (Dwight J. Friesen, Thy Kingdom Connected, p. 39-41)

Stop and think about this one: in what ways might you see the growth of God’s kingdom through relationships and community?

Like the process of fermentation, the details are rarely pretty.  Spend enough time with people, and they grate on your nerves.  We’re all a little broken, you see.  Some of us more than others.  And we’re all loved.  The church has rightly been called the “body of Christ.”  Alone we can do little—if anything.  Together we can represent the hands and feet of the Savior.  Living among one another gets us close to the (ahem) “fungus” of personality quirks and sinful vices.  But it’s also a chance to see grace grow and flourish between human beings.

And that process should cause all of us to rise.

A few years ago Tim Thorpe came to visit Dallas on a business trip.  I had the chance to meet up with him, and we briefly toured the resort at which he’d been staying.  Among the items in the indoor park area stood a large oak tree—or at least a replica of one.  This large, fake tree really did look like the real thing, and it better have, because the plaque said that it cost $250,000 to produce.  Works righteousness can never grow a flourishing tree—only a fake one.

Jesus’ parables of the mustard seed and the leaven illustrate how the insignificant can often surpass our expectations.  Take a moment to read—or re-read—the parable of the mustard seed:

He put another parable before them, saying, “The kingdom of heaven is like a grain of mustard seed that a man took and sowed in his field. 32 It is the smallest of all seeds, but when it has grown it is larger than all the garden plants and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and make nests in its branches.” (Matthew 13:31-32)

Take a moment and see if you can identify the components of the parable.  Jesus tells us that the seed represents the kingdom.  So who is the “man?”  Who are the “birds of the air?”  What is our responsibility to the kingdom, according to this parable?

Like the parable of the sower (Mark 4), this story emphasizes the inevitability of growth through the work of the Sower.  Since God’s kingdom flourishes through God’s will alone, then we might easily see that the “man” is none other than God himself.   The “birds of the air” represent all who might enjoy the benefits of the flourishing kingdom.  Some have speculated that the “birds” most specifically represent the Gentiles—the non-Jews who would come to experience God’s blessing once grafted into the vine of Israel.

So if God does the work and we experience the blessing, this naturally challenges at least two assumptions we might have about the kingdom:

• First, it challenges our efforts to grow the kingdom on our own. The “seed” comes from God; not us.  If we reduce God’s kingdom to a set of religious projects, then we have confused means for their ends.  Daily devotions, worship services—these are only as valuable as the God to whom they point.  Turn them into the end themselves, and we’re constantly worried about doing   Have I read my Bible enough?  Have I prayed enough?  Have I shared my faith enough?  We fail to rest in God’s kingdom, instead devoted to building our own empire.

• Second, it challenges our assumption that faith is found in “surrendering our hearts to God.” Such language sounds pleasant and devoted—even the opposite of the works-based faith above.  But what happens?  The same questions rise again: Have I surrendered enough?  Have I really “given my heart to God?

We can say two things: first, none of this will ever be enough.  Second, when we try these approaches, we end up building a big, expensive fake tree rather than allow God to grow his kingdom through us.  The gospel isn’t opposed to human effort, mind you—it’s just opposed to us earning it.

Too often we feel that if we just had a little more faith, could do just a bit better at repenting—then our relationship with God would really take off.  But don’t you see how this parable challenges this?  It’s not the quantity of our faith that matters; it’s the object of our faith.  We can truly rest in God’s grace knowing that the work that he’s accomplished truly is enough.

Jesus was nothing at all what his followers were expecting.  Far from a mighty warrior arriving to conquer the Roman oppressors, the Savior they got was a humble teacher.  His ministry would be one of obscurity—masked from both the public’s eyes and the public’s understanding.

So it’s quite fitting that Jesus would rely on these stories, these parables; they conveyed truth in the simplest of terms, but also the most profound of meanings.   And these parables also revealed just a bit more about the true nature of God’s kingdom.  Though inconspicuous, his kingdom would develop into something larger than anyone could ever imagine.  This was the message of two parables in particular: the parable of the mustard seed and the parable of the leaven in the bread.

MUSTARD SEED FAITH

In the midst of several other parables, Jesus told his followers this story:
He put another parable before them, saying, “The kingdom of heaven is like a grain of mustard seed that a man took and sowed in his field. 32 It is the smallest of all seeds, but when it has grown it is larger than all the garden plants and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and make nests in its branches.” (Matthew 13:31-32)

If you’re a skeptic, you might be quick to note that no; mustard seeds are not the smallest of seeds.  If Jesus was God, shouldn’t he have known that?  Well, he probably did; it’s just that mustard seeds were frequently used by both Jewish and Greek teachers to emphasize the very small.  Jesus was just building on a tradition his followers would already have been familiar with.

Jesus’ point is much more basic than such details.  He’s seeking to compare the rapid growth of mustard seeds with that of his kingdom.  How rapid, you ask?  A typical mustard seed might be something like a millimeter in diameter.  Small, right?  But when you plant them—in that climate at least—the plant would grow ten feet tall within five days.  And when it did, it would sprout large leaves, large enough for birds and other wildlife to find shelter and nourishment from other seeds.

How is this like God’s kingdom?  God’s kingdom—again, the rule and reign of God on earth—seems small and insignificant in comparison to the Empires of the world.  But let it grow, let it flourish, and it explodes into something vibrant and organic, something that many can enjoy and find nourishment in.  It’s quite possible, in fact, that Jesus used the “birds of the air” to illustrate the way that Gentiles—that is, the non-Jews who did not have any original claim to God’s kingdom—could also find hope in what God’s doing.

VIRAL LEAVEN

Jesus told a second story:

33 He told them another parable. “The kingdom of heaven is like leaven that a woman took and hid in three measures of flour, till it was all leavened.” (Matthew 13:33)

Leaven was often used as a symbol in both Jewish and Greek writings—sometimes positively and sometimes negatively.  In this short story, Jesus seems to be using it quite positively.

Leaven is not the same as yeast.  Yeast refers to a specific organism that causes fermentation—the resulting carbon dioxide production causes bread to rise.  In the ancient world, “leaven” was the term given to fermenting dough.  It most likely refers to a small lump of dough saved back and used to make subsequent batches of bread.

How much was a “measure?”  Well, one measure was thought to be about 3 gallons of dry measure.  So “three measures of flour” would be approximately a bushel of flour and would probably be the upper limit of what one woman could handle.  The amount of bread that could be made would feed roughly 100-150 people.  As with the mustard seed, the point of this parable is that something small could have large results.

But it’s that unseen, hidden nature of God’s kingdom that haunts us.  Nothing in our lives bears the mark of God’s rule and reign.  But Jesus tells us that in the background, in the quiet spaces where we often forget to look, God’s kingdom still grows.

ISIS militants persecute and take the lives of Christian missionaries.  One of the relatives thanked—thanked—ISIS for allowing their Christian testimony to be incorporated into the video of their beheadings.  And God’s kingdom grows.  Pornography usage is steadily increasing.  Experts tell us that well over $3,000 is spent on pornography every second.  Every 39 minutes, a new video is created.  And still it grows.  According to Richard Stearns, current president of World Vision United States, 26,500 children die as a result of poverty daily.  Stearns says that in visible terms, this would be the same as if 100 jetliners full of children crashed to the ground every single day.  And still it grows.  In our own country, in our workplaces, in our schools, Christ’s followers are increasingly pushed to the margins of society, labeled as intolerant at best, bigoted at worst.  We are told that we are part of the problem, not the solution, and that our antiquated beliefs have done more to harm than to heal.  And still it grows.

And 2,000 years in our past, on a lonely hillside overshadowed by the clouds of God’s own wrath, hung the body of our Lord, the body of One who tasted death so that he might swallow it up in victory.  A Savior who told—nay, promised his followers that to come after him would mean taking up our own cross, bearing this symbol of murder and shame, and carrying it through a world that recognizes a crown of glory and never a crown of thorns.  A Savior who promised that in the new beginning, when his kingdom is one day made complete, we shall rise from the ashes of the present age to live in a world made wonderfully new.  Until that day we live in the meantime, that interim period between a kingdom announced and a kingdom made real.  And still it grows.  And still it grows.  And still it grows.

Forget the “bandwagon effect;” these days, it’s all about “going viral.”  In today’s technologically-driven society, information spreads more rapidly than ever before.  If someone (or a marketing firm, for that matter) creates something interesting, then pretty soon people start clicking it and sharing it—passing the information around the World Wide Web.

Need an example?  No problem.  Remember Susan Boyle?  She was a contestant on the TV show Britain’s Got Talent.  The judges dismissed her initially, but their faces lit up when they heard her sing “I Dreamed a Dream.”  And everybody went nuts.  The British television show placed the clip onto Youtube.  Six days later, the video had been viewed over 100 million times—by people around the world.

The success of “going viral” still appears to be elusive.  But the point remains clear: sometimes small things can eventually take on a global scale.  That’s at least partially the point Jesus makes in telling two important parables to his disciples:

He put another parable before them, saying, “The kingdom of heaven is like a grain of mustard seed that a man took and sowed in his field. 32 It is the smallest of all seeds, but when it has grown it is larger than all the garden plants and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and make nests in its branches.”

33 He told them another parable. “The kingdom of heaven is like leaven that a woman took and hid in three measures of flour, till it was all leavened.” (Matthew 13:31-33)

Jesus’ point is simple: sometimes something small, insignificant can eventually grow and flourish into something magnificent and nourishing.

In the 1960’s, a social researcher by the name of Mary Stuart Douglas wrote a very important book called Purity and Danger.  She discovered that long before anyone understood such things as “bacteria” or “viruses,” people had very clear understandings about what is “clean” and “unclean.”  They seemed to understand the idea of “infection”—and often applied the idea to moral systems.  In other words, we tend to think of “good” things as “clean” and “bad” things as “dirty.”  In fact, many of the Laws of the Hebrew Old Testament revolve around such ideas.

Here’s where I’m going with this: we tend to assume that when the clean encounters the impure, the impure always wins.  And really, who can blame us?  The world around us isn’t getting much better.  If you identify as a Christian in today’s world, you can surely be prepared to be labeled as intolerant or bigoted.  The forces that oppose the will of God seem to be growing—rapidly.  It’s easy to be discouraged.

But wait; what if what Jesus is saying is still true?  What if God can allow his kingdom—his rule, his reign—to expand in such a way that our world sees the flourishing good news of his gospel?  And what if we can be participants in that, and find joy in seeing outsiders nesting in the branches of God’s expanding kingdom?  If we believed all that, well then that’s just the sort of message that could go viral.