The gospel lectionary reading for Trinity 3 in Year B is Mark 4.26–34. (Note that this is usually the reading for Trinity 2, but with Easter being early, this season is longer, and an additional reading has been added in Trinity 1, pushing all the others back by a week.) Once again, the lectionary makes a slightly odd choice, picking up the teaching of Jesus midway through a sequence of pericopes mostly related to parables and the kingdom. But it contains one of my favourite images in the teaching of Jesus, unique to Mark, and includes one of my favourite words in the whole New Testament—which occurs only here and in Acts 12.10.
The immediate context of our reading is the parable of the sower and the soils, together with the explanation in private to the disciples, and its use as a ‘parable about parables’, in which Jesus explains why he teaches in a cryptic way. We will not be reading it from Mark, as it is omitted from the lectionary for Year B, I assume because we read it from Matthew 13 last year. But putting it as the first substantial element of Jesus’ public teaching, Mark emphasises how important it is a key for understanding all of Jesus’ teaching: those on the ‘outside’ are offered a tantalising glimpse of what the kingdom means, whilst those on the ‘inside’ are offered full understanding. The question then is whether the outsiders will be sufficiently intrigued to seek to become insiders.
The prominence of this idea gave rise to the notion of the ‘Messianic secret’ in Mark. William Wrede argued in 1901 that Jesus was a failed apocalyptic prophet who had not persuaded the Jews as a whole to follow him, and that without the Hellenised work of Paul, Christianity would be just another failed Jewish sect. He believed that the gospel of Mark was written as a way of explaining this failure, so that the ‘insider/outsider’ distinction explained why the outsiders did not recognise Jesus, and that Mark claims his miracles were mostly performed in private, which is why they did not challenge people. Wrede’s historical scepticism is not warranted here, and is a reflection of his intellectual time more than anything else. But it does draw attention to the importance of this theme in Mark, so (for example) we do find Jesus healing, delivering and raising people in private (Mark 5.40, 7.33, 8.23), which reflects his focus on compassion rather than public performance. Jesus both silences demons (Mark 1.25, 3.12) and tells those he has healed not to tell anyone (Mark 1.44, 7.36) and the main part of the gospel ends with the women at the tomb running and ‘telling no-one, for they were afraid’ (Mark 16.8).
Wrede’s thesis fails as an account of the text, since it is clear from the beginning that some of Jesus’ miracles are indeed done in public—and the ‘insiders’ who are given the explanation themselves often do not understand who Jesus is or what he has done, even though they have an advantage. However, ‘from a literary perspective, this gospel conveys a strong sense that there is a mystery for the reader to solve’ (Mary Ann Beavis, Paideia, p 80). For those within the story, encountering Jesus (the ‘first level’ of the narrative), they can see something has happened that calls for explanation and response. For the first audience of the gospel (the ‘second level’ of the narrative), they can see in the Jesus movement that something has happened that calls for explanation and response. Perhaps this is also a helpful pattern of testimony for us as later readers (the ‘third level’ of the narrative…?).
The passage itself is quite short, and is comprised of two concise parables, both offered without explanation, followed by a summary comment on the importance of parables in Jesus’ teaching, which concludes this whole section of Mark 4.1–34. It is followed by Jesus stilling the storm on the lake before stilling the storm of the demon-possessed man.
The parables are connected by the repetition of the simple phrase ‘And he said…’ kai elegen, which links the different elements of this section together: in his teaching, ‘he said to them’ (Mark 4.2); when he was alone with the disciples, ‘he said to them…’ (Mark 4.11); and the phrase is repeated in Mark 4.13 (with a slight variation of the historic present rather than past tense), 4.21, 4.24, and in our passage at Mark 4.26 and 30. Many ETs try to add interest by varying the form of the translation (‘He said…he also said…Again he said…’ and so on), but this simple repetition both fits with Mark’s paratactical style of writing—simply placing different sections next to one another—and serves to thread these different elements and hold them together quite tightly.
The first parable has the briefest of introductions: ‘the kingdom of God is like…’. Since we are not given the explanation (which, on the basis of Mark 4.34, he did give to the disciples, but Mark just didn’t include it), the parable functions in a way that is quite close to many of Jesus’ cryptic sayings in the Fourth Gospel, where the literal meaning provides the illustration of the thing that is pointed to in the symbolic reading. In her commentary, Mary Ann Beavis distinguishes between ‘allegories’ (like the parable of the sower and soils) and ‘parables’, the former offering detailed parallels between story and application, the latter being more general. I am not sure that this distinction really works, since even in the ‘allegories’ there is not a clear one-to-one correspondence between one element and its application—are the believers the seeds that grow into plants, or the soil that receives the seed?
This parable has a number of quite specific connections with the sower and soils: a man ‘throws’ or ‘scatters’ seed (ballo) suggesting the kind of ‘broadcasting’ (rather than careful sowing in a drill) that we see in the first parable. The threefold description of the growth of the seed ‘first the blade, then the ear, then the full grain in the ear’ provides an echo of the threefold description of the seed bearing fruit ‘thirty and sixty and a hundred’ (Mark 4.20).
But the central theme of this parable is almost the opposite to the message of the first. The sower and soils does imply the sovereign work of God, in that the sower simply scatters the seed, but even here there is a challenge to human action and initiative: will those on the inside, to whom the secret of the kingdom has been given, in turn become sowers of the word-seed? And the challenge to the outsiders is: which kind of soil will you be? Will this word you are hearing be something that takes root, is not snatched away, or scorched, or strangled, but bears fruit for you and then others?
However, in this parable Jesus is emphatic: night and day (counted in the Jewish sense from evening to morning, rather than our way of counting days from morning to evening) the man simply rises and goes to sleep, without the slightest hint of any effort on his part. In fact, not only does he do nothing, but the growth of the seed is a complete mystery to him! Nothing is needed here, except that the seed makes contact with the earth.
This is where we find my favourite word in the New Testament: αὐτομάτη, the feminine of automatos, from which of course we get ‘automatic’. The earth (with the seed planted in it) produces the fruitful result ‘all by itself’, without any human intervention. The other place where this word occurs is in Acts 12.10, when Peter is miraculously released from prison, and the gate opens ‘all by itself’. In both cases we have a sense of ‘divine passive’; what appears to happen automatically is in fact a result of God’s sovereign action.
In the parallel collection in Matthew 13, where Matthew includes his own unique parables of Jesus, the treasure in the field and the pearl beyond price, I noted that there is a tension between whether the kingdom comes about because of God’s sovereign initiative, or because of human response. In other words, does it all depend on God, or all depend on us? Taking all the parables together, the answer is surely ‘Yes! Both!’ and Paul sums this up rather well as ‘I sowed, and Apollos watered, but God gave the growth’ (1 Cor 3.6). This does, indeed, reflect the reality of farming on a large or small scale; there is a sense of wonder that fruitful plants grow miraculously from tiny seeds. But not all gardens, or farms, are equally fruitful!
Given that Jesus tells parables with one focus or the other, it is worth pausing on this parable, and asking whether this is a particular word we need to hear in this season. Like other western denominations, the Church of England, in which I am ordained, is obsessed with Mission Action Plans, strategies, church planting, and reorganisation. All these things are needed—but the danger is that these things give the false impression that, if only we got our strategies right, then the growth of the kingdom will come. This parable, and the central term αὐτομάτη, tells us that this is a lie. The kingdom of God will grow because God is sovereign, and Jesus is Lord, not because of any resolutions of Synod, grants of funding, or strategies of dioceses.
In relation to our second parable, there is often some debate in commentators about exactly which variety of ‘mustard’ Jesus is referring to here, whether it really is the smallest of all seeds, and whether it can really grow to be the size of a tree. But in the end these miss the rhetorical point of the exaggeration of the parabolic form; mustard is proverbially small, and black mustard (brassica nigra) can in fact grow to be several metres tall. (This is also a wider feature of polemical language; it was not literally true, as Jesus predicted, that ‘not one stone of the temple will be left on another’ [Mar 13.2] since you can still see today some stones of the lower wall of the Second Temple, and share the wonder of the disciples at their size and majesty.)
The surprising nature of something substantial growing from something small is actually a feature of all gardening and cultivation. I have just sown and pricked out my second crop of lettuce, and it is a constant surprise to see something so small—almost too small to handle—eventually provide an abundance of food. The kingdom of God seems at first to be something small and insignificant—small seeds are almost as fine as dust, and just as easily blown away or lost—but there will come a time when, like the plants that seeds produce, it is impossible to ignore.
To the keen eared who are soaked in the Old Testament, there is an echo here of the language of Nebuchadnezzar’s dream and its interpretation by Daniel in Daniel 4.12, 21. The kingdom of Babylon is like a tree, and the birds in its branches are the nations who become subject to it. This is not unconnected with the subject of the kingdom of God/heaven, since in chapters 2 and 7 we have visions of how the ‘kingdom of the God of heaven’ will destroy the four great kingdoms of this world [Babylon, Persia, Greece and Rome], depicted as a four-stage statue or four beasts emerging from the ‘sea’ of the peoples of earth.
There is no justification for seeing the image of a large tree as pointing to the (historical) triumph of the institution of the church growing and dominating culture. This organic image refers to the kingdom of God in all its diversity, not any one or collection of institutions.
But this parable reminds us of the saying in Zechariah 4.10: ‘Do not despite the day of small things’. Zechariah’s is a time of the end of exile, yet when the newly settled people of God, returning to the land, saw the work of renewal God was doing as weak and fragile, exposed to all sorts of dangers. The renewal movement found in the ministry of Jesus and his first followers must also have seemed fragile, as Jesus preached the end of the exile of sin, and the return of the people of God not to the land, but to the temple that was Jesus himself. This small seed grows into a large tree ‘all by itself’, because of the sovereign power of God. And the results of this will be seen only at the end, at the time of harvest, when someone ‘puts in the sickle’ (Mark 4.29).
Until then, we must wait and see…
Come and join James and Ian as they discuss all these things—and notice some more.
“Despise” not “despite” in your last para, I think. But thank you, helpful and intriguing.
With many such parables he spoke the word to them, as they were able to hear it; he did not speak to them without a parable, but privately to his own disciples he explained everything (Mark 4.33–34).
This has intrigued me ever since I first read it, as I was brought up with the idea that Jesus taught in parables to make his points accessible… to help people to understand. But there seems to be something else going on here…
By the time I was 7 or 8 years old, I had been taken regularly to Mass where we had access to the gospels, along with the more lurid images of martyrs being slain and the almost child-like (not necessarily a bad thing) unwinding of the Parables. I remember distinctly a time when I was very little, the thought came to me… “If all this is true, I must take it seriously”… so I did! I count this as my conversion experience.
Now I was taught some strange stuff and, as I would say later, I rebelled by being the one member of the family who kept attending church!
This could have been a time of spiritual famine for me and yet, God kept me close. It wasn’t until I went to University that I met Christians whose lives had been turned upside down by their encounter with Christ… I began to study the Bible and, over the years since, have learned more and more about our amazing God and encountered Him as my personal Saviour.
I relay this testimony by way of example… the way God spoke to me when I was little, and the seed that was sown in my life, must have had something to do with what I heard at Mass and the Convent school I attended. But that was filled with misunderstandings. Even then, God took that seed and nurtured it. Something was born in me… the revelation of the Kingdom of God… which was birthed by God. Sure, I heard the bare bones of the Gospel, but it was God who drew me close and held me.
This is a thrilling thought… God’s sovereign initiative and human response really are two sides of the same coin. This is a great mystery to me. I try not to get in the way of what God is doing in and through my life… trusting our Father in Heaven is a freeing and stabilising thing.
Thanks Kathryn, You reminded me of the time I was lying on my bed aged 13 looking at the pattern on the wallpaper when a thought came into my head, “you believe Jesus rose from the dead and is alive in heaven- then you need to recon with that…”
Kathryn, as I found, when Jesus wants us for His Own he often sows the seed when we are young
Amen to that, Colin!
Very encouraging words Kathryn. May I share my experience. I was brought up as a Baptist by wonderful Christian parents and was immersed in the church. I studied theology at university which nourished my faith further. My sisters rejected the faith though their experience of childhood was similar to mine and there have been times in my life when faith has been less important but now it is at the heart of all I do. God never let me go. The seeds were sown and God continues to nurture and nourish them despite my failings and waywardness.
We have a Father in Heaven that longs for us to know Him. I am glad that I heard that still small voice in my childhood. I pray for my grandchildren that they would also know the presence of God from a young age. We have a faithful and longsuffering God whose pleasure, it seems, is to nurture and nourish His children.
I had to learn the hard way that, once we have done our part, we are wise to step back and let God… having banged on for years in every way I could think of that might restore my mother’s relationship with Him, it wasn’t until I let go and let God… that she, as an old lady, came out of an Easter Sunday service with a radiance in her face. She said, “I never heard that before!” The miracle of conversion. I pray that my siblings will also come to recognise the voice of the Shepherd and I pray that my son will join his sister’s name in that Book of Life.
Thankyou Ian and James.
Why did Jesus speak in barely comprehensible parables?
This reminds me of a time we visited the Surrealist, Salvador Dahi exhibition in the USA.
Prior to the visit I was not interested in his work and frankly was not an enthusiastic visitor on the day, until that is, a guide opened my eyes to see that in fact in a magical artistry Dali had painted two pictures in one on many occasions.
To the casual observer one “sees” a bizarre picture representing who knows what, then when our eyes were opened one sees a second picture enfolded in the other. I was instantly smitten by this amazingly gifted artist.
This passage shows me that Jesus is painting a picture of the Kingdom, to the casual or barely interested it has no significance but to the inquiring mind there is a wonderful unveiling, a light bulb moment, which cannot be unseen once seen.
“Because Jesus is an artist. He is not only concerned for communicative clarity—sometimes he seems completely uninterested in it. Jesus doesn’t want to simply tell his audience something and end there. He wants to know and be known—what he’s like, how he talks, and why.
Though his artistry confused his audience, it also drew them in close to ask questions, learn more, and see the beauty of the way he was communicating.
As we read parables, we shouldn’t focus on mining the text for doctrine or sifting for one-liner life lessons. Jesus is concerned with the power of creative imagery, symbolism, and beauty, and we should be too. He wants his audience to do more than listen and think; he wants them to imagine
[Ian’s point on looking and seeing the voice] and feel, to be challenged and provoked.
Jesus wants to speak truth to the deepest level of the soul.
In the book of Isaiah, the prophet experiences a powerful vision in which God commands that he warn Israel about their coming judgement, even though they are so far gone that they will not hear Isaiah’s message (Isaiah 6:8-13
In fact, God says that Israel is going to be chopped down like a tree, and even the remaining stump will be scorched.
But out of this stump, a holy seed of hope will grow. Isaiah tells King Ahaz the bad news about Israel’s impending doom, but he also begins to unpack this idea of a holy seed, saying, “Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign: The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and will call him Immanuel” (Isaiah 7:14
Isaiah 7:14
In the next few chapters, Isaiah describes this seed of hope as a shoot growing from the stump, a coming king that will be empowered by God’s Spirit to rescue God’s people, unite all nations under his kingship, and rule with justice and peace forever.
So why did Jesus refer to this message from the prophet Isaiah to explain his use of parables?
Isaiah uses imagery and metaphor to communicate something powerful, and Jesus is attempting to do the same with his parables.
Even more important, at this point in Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus’ disciples have come to believe that he is the messianic king long promised to initiate God’s Kingdom and restore Israel. Jesus understood that, not unlike Isaiah, much of his audience was closed off to his message. So how would he spread his message that the Kingdom of God had arrived?
The parables of Jesus operate within a well-known paradox in artistic expression. You can water down the creativity of an artistic message so that it becomes comprehensible for a wide audience, but there’s a catch. The more watered down the message, the weaker it becomes for those who have “ears to hear.”
This explains why Jesus often preferred to communicate truths about God’s Kingdom in parables. The people who already have the message, who are already accepting of it—they’ll get even more (Matthew 13:12).
For those who won’t accept Jesus’ message, the parables will only further confound them. His message, like Isaiah’s, had a paradoxical effect on his listeners. The power of stories—even cryptic, metaphorical ones—will penetrate the hearts of some while hardening the hearts of others.
Jesus is not shrouding his message in mystery to include some while excluding others. He understood that not everyone would miss the parable’s meaning. And any curious listener could stick around to ask, along with the disciples, about the parable’s meaning (e.g., Luke 8:9).
Jesus tells his friends, “Blessed are your eyes because they see, and your ears because they hear” (Matthew 13:16
. For centuries, Israel had been waiting for the Messiah. Isaiah never got to see this “Immanuel,” the “holy seed,” but now this ragtag group of young people are seeing him with their own eyes and hearing him with their own ears.
Good [God] art is like that.
[ Josh Porter is an author, musician, and pastor in Vancouver, Washington.]
See bibleproject.com/articles/are-the-parables-of-jesus-confusing-on-purpose/]
Salvation, and the kingdom of God, is a work of great art, we stumble about with all kinds of theories about it but once seen one becomes unshakable,thoroughly convinced and filled with wonder, adoration, praise and thanksgivings.
Filled with all joy and peace through believing. Rom 15:13
What does your religion do for you?
Alan,
I’m trying to make art. I want it to have theological significance… ditto everything you have said!
At the moment I’m working on depicting Rev. 4 diagrammatically in a square grid 7×7.
“To the casual observer one “sees” a bizarre picture representing who knows what, then when our eyes were opened one sees a second picture enfolded in the other. I was instantly smitten by this amazingly gifted artist.
This passage shows me that Jesus is painting a picture of the Kingdom, to the casual or barely interested it has no significance but to the inquiring mind there is a wonderful unveiling, a light bulb moment, which cannot be unseen once seen.”
I visited Dali’s Museum Theatre in Figueres. I loved it so much that I nearly missed my coach’s departure! I could easily have spent the whole day in there. And yet some people spent a cursory 30 minutes looking without seeing (I would say!) before heading for a coffee. I think they had made their minds up that Dali wasn’t worth a fig and that stiff necked outlook didn’t bare being challenged.
The lightbulb moment I experienced as a child, Alan, ignited a stubborn faith in me. That thought, “If what I heard was true, I HAD to take it seriously”, came unobserved and unremarked by others, and yet it began a good work in me. I was a bit of a slow cookpot, but that was OK because in the seemingly silent times, God was training me to prepare me for the times of spiritual crisis.
It is the very believing, the knowing and being known by the great I AM, that gives me joy. My religion… that of the Way, has convinced me of the unshakable truth of my need for and God’s provision of salvation through Christ.
‘Turn your eyes upon Jesus
Look full in His wonderful face
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim
In the light of His glory and grace’
To many, this world looks ‘bizarre’ but for those whose eyes are opened, the true picture is revealed.
Some years ago I viewed the original Dali’s, Christ of of St John of the Cross, at Glasgow’s Kelvin Grove Art Gallery and Museum. Stunning in depth of transcendent Christian meaning.
Yet, let us hear, as if for the first time the offence of the cross of Christ to our ingrained human nature, for self justification, pride, based on a parable.
Glorious, wonderful, doctrine of righteousness, which is beyond art, is it not, a multidimensional facet of the person of Christ?
“God Justifies the Ungodly” from Ligonier Ministries https://www.ligonier.org/podcasts/things-unseen-with-sinclair-ferguson/god-justifies-the-ungodly
Thanks Geoff for your thoughts and for that link… what an interesting podcast. My husband says I am easily distracted because SO many things interest me. I like to think of this as a kind of creative meandering. Like the work you have to do in preparing what used to be called a Mind Map.
We cannot begin to grasp the wonders we will experience when we take our places on the New Earth. 1 Cor 13:12 “For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.” PTL
Yes, Katherine.
I only came across that Things Unseen podcast at the beginning of this week.
My wife and I have found listening together, for the 6 minutes or so each day, starting on Monday, edifying reminders of the necessary ballast of who were are in Christ, uplifting depth in its easy simplicity, a simplicity that emcompasses and is a product not only of much study and learning, but expresses and results in thankfulness, praise and worship, a renewing of our minds, forgetful as they are. It is knowing God in and through Christ.
For the proclaimer of the Word,like a farmer, he must first break up the fallow ground to bring forth fruits of repentance [JEREMIAH CHS 4 &5 John the Baptist,Jesus,the desciples etc.]
The “ground” develops the germ. The human life and experience which the seed falls into has to be prepared, and, of course, needs to be cultivated; then God sends His celestial benediction of the sunshine and the showers. But the fruit “the earth bringeth forth of herself.” This union of human fidelity with Divine grace constitutes the cooperation with which the mysterious work goes on. We are to “add” to our attainments, “giving all diligence” (2 Peter 1:5). We are to “work out” our own salvation “with fear and trembling” (Philippians 2:12, 13).
The man cannot possibly “know how.” Our Saviour, in another place, gives the full reasons for that (Luke 17:20, 21). When He declares “the kingdom of God cometh not with observation,” He adds at once His sufficient explanation; “for, behold, the kingdom of God is within you.” We are unable to become in any case thoroughly acquainted with each other. We are often mistaken about ourselves. The most we can hope to understand is to be found in grand results, and not in the processes.
The kingdom comes slowly not as the Jews thought by a mighty conquerer.
The farmer is pleased to see the developing shoots, more pleased with the green blades, overjoyed at the full corn in the ear.
The Christian life is one of constant observable growth until the there is perfection, the fullness of the fruits of righteousness which are by Christ Jesus to the Glory of God.
Paul knew and prayed constantly for all the churches that they might be filled with understanding, joy and peace, comprehension, all the fulness of God etc.
He travailed in birth until Christ is formed in them, he laboured towards the goal of presenting the saints perfect in Christ Jesus as did Epaphras wrestling in prayer that the saints might stand complete in all the will of God. That is the Full gospel.
“It is like Solomon’s Temple; it is a structure that is built without the sound of a hammer; and whatever it may come to, all the earlier processes of germination and development are invisible and are silent; for if you take it out into the light it will not grow. The seed needs warmth, moisture, and luminous darkness — that is to say, considerable darkness, and yet a little invisible light. So it is with the spiritual life.” (H. W. Beecher.)
‘All these things are needed—but the danger is that these things give the false impression that, if only we got our strategies right, then the growth of the kingdom will come. This parable, and the central term αὐτομάτη, tells us that this is a lie. The kingdom of God will grow because God is sovereign, and Jesus is Lord, not because of any resolutions of Synod, grants of funding, or strategies of dioceses.’
I find this confusing and inconsistent, as you had just said the growth of the kingdom depended on both God and man. Arent the items listed not simply part of man’s input?
“the kingdom depended on both God and man. Arent the items listed not simply part of man’s input?”
God does not impose himself on anyone. Salvation as a word implies
a call/calling. on His terms, hence an opportunity to respond/ignore.
That Salvation is a process is written throughout the Scriptures.
It is not merely a belief in a supreme being but a growth process whereby God provides the means and man avails himself of those means. It commences as a birth and develops into perfection
Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright: for the end of that man is peace.Ps 37:37
PC1 and Alan,
There is great joy in reading how you engage with one another about matters of the Kingdom. This is surely a sweet incense to our LORD. Like Mary, “…you have chosen the good part, which will not be taken away…” Luke 10:42
“How did you come to be a Christian?”, Charles Haddon Spurgeon, the Prince of Preachers asked of himself.
And he follows through with his thoughts, answers, in hindsight, in retrospect, his spiritual rear view mirror as it were:
https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/how-spurgeon-got-saved
Many thanks for this, very helpful for Sunday! I was encouraged by Ian’s words in the video about the growth of church ‘in the North East’. I wonder if you can point to somewhere I can find out more about that please?
Thanks. Yes, there is a report by David Goodhew on church planting in the North East. I think it is expensive, but I am hoping he will write about it for the blog.
I hope that works out. There are three interesting reviews on Amazon. Two are of the “brilliant” persuasion, one is more “good” but has some questions about the statistics.
As a North Easterner in origin (but exiled since 1966 by work and God! ) but horrified by terrible social decline in some areas there. I’d like to know how the church is handling these really difficult times. I knew the poorer areas around Middlesbrough /Southbank /Grangetown /Redcar. The recent TV documentary on the police in Middlesbrough was dismaying.