“I Get It Now”

Ninth Sunday after Pentecost

July 26, 2026

‍ Philippians 2:1-11

Matthew 13:31-33, 44-52

This is our last week of parables in this series from Matthew. And today, we get them back to back to back with almost no explanation for their meanings. The last two weeks had a bit more to chew on—the kindom of heaven is like a sower who sows seed across the ground, some taking root and some experiencing challenges. But at the harvest, the yield was still large enough to cover the loss. The kindom of heaven is like a field that held both wheat and weeds allowed to grow together until the harvest, when the landowner judged between what bore good fruit and what did not.

And now the kindom of heaven is like a mustard seed, and like yeast, and like hidden treasure, and a pearl, and a net filled with fish. But my favorite part is when Jesus asks the disciples if they get it…and they say, “Yes.” But this is what I think they really looked like—every time we get to this passage, I think of this video, but it’s been a while since I’ve shared it here:

“Math Class” by Kids Snippets--https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KdxEAt91D7k

Do we get it? Um… Sometimes. It’s like being in class and watching everyone else begin to process the new information. And the teacher can describe it in a variety of ways, using diagrams and stories and illustrations and graphs. And yet...it doesn’t sink in. Until it does. Like a joke that takes a while to get. And then…”Oooh!” Aha! Finally.

And that’s okay. Because not every story connects with us. Not every parable drives the point home in the same way. And the disciples needed lots of diagrams and graphs—and, quite frankly, a resurrection and Pentecost Spirit before they finally went, “Oooh.” Aha.

 Jesus uses parables in order to change the way people were thinking about God’s kindom. They expected the kindom of heaven to mean a future victory over the Roman Empire. It would mean future freedom. It would mean a future nation. A future…something.

We do the same thing. We have been conditioned to view God’s kindom as something to experience in the future—in a world after this one, in a reality that only exists once this one ends. But Jesus uses current reality and examples from this world to help us condition our eyes to see God’s kindom here. Now.

It’s like a tiny mustard seed. No matter how small you are, no matter how little your contribution may seem, no matter how little you have been valued… Or, perhaps, even though God’s kindom is difficult to see and little consideration is given, when planted…when offered…when it takes root, something amazing and unexpected happens. The kindom provides abundant shelter for all kinds of life. You or your gift or your faith can grow into something that is pervasive and difficult to squelch, like a mustard bush, which was considered a noxious weed by some. I like the idea of having faith like a noxious weed. It makes my Gen X heart feel warm and fuzzy. It could also mean cardiac problems.

It’s like yeast which the baker literally ‘hides’ into a ton of flour. Folded in secretly, quietly, it impact the whole bowl of dough. Just a little bit influences everything. When the gospel is part of a recipe, not loud and arrogant but just quietly folded into life, it can make a really big difference.

It’s like a treasure that is discovered in a field. Rather than stealing it, the tenant sells everything he owns to buy the field and then retrieve the treasure. Or a merchant searching for a valuable pearl who, upon finding it, sells everything to own it. Can you imagine anything so valuable you would sell all you have in order to have it? Maybe it’s about sacrifice—like taking on loads of debt in order to put your child through college or get them medical care necessary for life. Or maybe it’s about priorities—like realizing that nothing else matters compared to that one thing.

Or maybe it’s about how God gave up God’s own heart in order to give creation abundant life—in order to break into this world unexpectedly and change everything.

It’s like a dragnet when fishing. The net collects everything—all kinds of fish and waterlife. Like the weeds and wheat, our calling isn’t to sort the fish. Just to gather—and be gathered.

Do you get it now? God’s kindom is more than something to hope for in the future. It’s more than some loud, proud victory over another nation or entity. It’s not a war. It’s not something we have to wait for or to die for. It’s not the promise of life after death. It’s the promise of life NOW. Here. Today.

It’s the kindom of heaven breaking in, waiting for us to see it. Recognize it. Notice it.

We’ve been studying Alan Roxburgh’s book, “Joining God,” this year. And I know some of us are still wondering what we’re supposed to do with it. The premise of the book is to begin opening our eyes and ears to where God is at work around us. Despite what many leaders might say, we don’t ‘bring’ God into the world. We don’t ‘bring’ Christ into places like schools. God is already there, at work among Christians and non-Christians, alike.

Our job is to recognize what that looks like, and when necessary, help others see what we see. To help others see God’s kindom at work. And that doesn’t happen by posting the Ten Commandments or reciting the Lord’s Prayer or memorizing the Apostles’ Creed or reading the Bible to people whose faith isn’t the same as ours. It happens quietly—like yeast, changing systems and impacting the lives of those around us with simple goodness and hope. It happens in small ways—like a tiny mustard seed that grows into a bush that provides abundant shelter and protection for the vulnerable.

It happens through sacrifice and right-sized priorities—like a found treasure, worth letting go of everything that doesn’t bring life in order to cherish the one thing that does. It happens while we open our arms and gather in everyone—regardless who they are or what we think of them—sharing God’s love and grace to ALL.

The kindom of God is like a people who continue to listen and watch for the little things that point to God’s goodness, to hope. It’s like a people who may, over and over again say, “I don’t get it,” until one day…”Oooh!” Aha. Finally.

Pastor Tobi White

Our Saviour’s Lutheran Church

Lincoln, NE