Little Things Becoming Big

Psalm 8

Luke 13: 18, 19

August 10, 2025

Many of us have heard this basic sermon – the notion of something small, unappreciated, inconsequential becoming – over time – large, impressive, and noteworthy. So we are reminded that Moses had a speech impediment. David was at the end of a long list of more powerful and consequential brothers. Mary was a poor peasant teenaged girl from no-account Nazareth. God became flesh in the form of a baby born in Bethlehem.

We get the message. It doesn’t matter where you start out – in faith, in obedience, with perseverance we can become somebody amongst the followers of Jesus. Yes, we want to be good stewards of both our capabilities and our service. Yes, we want to celebrate that we do not serve alone. The Holy Sprit comes alongside of us and the results of our faithfulness can become more than our particular contributions. We refuse to be held captive to fear. We are followers of the God who blew life into Creation, parted the Red Sea, and defeated death. We are followers of a God who can transform our very existence.

But have you ever wondered why Jesus took a mustard seed as his example? Sure, it was commonplace and well known. Undoubtedly the listeners of Jesus would have regularly passed by the mustard trees that Jesus identified in his parable.

But come on. A mustard tree? It’s not even a real tree. It’s a shrub that, in their lands, might grow 15 feet tall and a similar measurement wide. The mustard tree was common, not particularly noteworthy, perhaps even mundane. Why did Jesus use the mustard seed, that pedestrian shrub as an example of the Kingdom of God?

Why not use the seed that produced the soaring and majestic Cedars of that land? The Cedars of Lebanon were celebrated throughout the Old Testament. They were a central building component of the Temple. Like our own Redwood trees and forests, the Cedars of Lebanon were huge, consequential, and worthy of praise! Why couldn’t the Kingdom of God be like that? If the Kingdom of God was so inspiring, why would Jesus use such an uninspiring metaphor to describe its impact? A shrub? Surely we can do better than that?

I am thankful for the writings of Dr. David Clark who both poses this question and then points to the writing of Brene Brown, author, social worker and commentator who wrote in her book The Gift of Imperfection, “In this world, an ordinary life has become synonymous with a meaningless life.” Let me offer that quote again. “In this world, an ordinary life has become synonymous with a meaningless life.” According to Brown, the pressure to be extraordinary leads to a cycle of performing, perfection, pleasing, and proving, which has dire consequences. She writes, “We are the most obese, most in debt, most medicated, and most addicted adults in human history. We are also the busiest. We take less vacation, work longer hours, and sleep less than anyone who came before us.”

Why? Because we have bought into this notion that being consequential, to be of importance, to be worthy; is to be extraordinary. We have an entire online industry based on being influential. We have determined that heightened accomplishment is a sure and certain sign of God’s favor.

We live in a world of never-ending aspiration. I remember as a young parent and pastor listening to incredibly successful parents worrying about which pre-school their children got into as the beginning of their educational careers. I remember the high school that used to put up a map of where all their graduating seniors would attend college or university. Of course, they only celebrated those going to four-year institutions. Junior Colleges, Trade Schools, students going into the military – none of these were listed. They were not deemed worthy of recognition and celebration.

As adults our zip codes can be signs of success. I remember when the neighborhood that Becky and I lived in as newlyweds petitioned the city to have their existing mailing address changed to La Jolla, California. The cars we drive, the clubs to which we belong, these signs of having “made it” to which we aspire – these are all symptoms of the overwhelming need to be somebody, somebody of importance, somebody of accomplishment, somebody of influence.

I think this is why we get the mustard seed and not the seed of the more accomplished and influential cedar. The mustard tree – the mustard shrub – is common and seen everywhere. The mustard tree, the mustard shrub may not be soaring and consequential – no one is making a mighty Temple out of the sticks of the mustard tree.

But Mustard Trees, like the Kingdom of God, can be everywhere, providing shade from the heat and a place to rest and build nests. The Kingdom of God may have its spectacular, unique contributions to the work of the Kingdom, but it is much more populated and made expansive by believers who are worried less about attention and worried more about providing comfort, shade and rest to those who are struggling in a world who deems accomplishment more important than simply being a child of God.

Friends, we live in a world preoccupied with being viewed as influential. We live in a world filled with judgment and ranking. We live in a world consumed with becoming consequential. Is it any surprise that our world is filled with anxiousness and despair?

Jesus says to us something very, very different. Jesus says that you are noteworthy, not because of who you are, but because of who created you. Jesus says that you are a part of a community – of a kingdom – not because of your accomplishments but because of the Holy Spirit who resides with you. Jesus says that this community, this kingdom, offers NOT competition and scorekeeping, but rest and comfort.

The Mustard Seed, and shrub, may be small but it is consequential, it is different, it is meaningful in the acceptance, in the peace, in the comfort that it offers. In a few minutes we will be celebrating the sacrament of Communion. You will be invited to come, you will have a spot at the table with your name on it NOT because of who you are, but because of to whom you belong.

Friends, know that you are loved. Not because of what you have accomplished, but because of the One who blew life into your very soul; because of the One who came and died for you; because of the One who walks with you every day – no matter who you are, no matter what you have accomplished. Amen.