Yeast: Even This Could Be Holy

Silent Reflection

After reading the Scriptures for this week, take some time to pause and reflect before proceeding to the remarks.

Remarks

He told them still another parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like yeast that a woman took and mixed into about sixty pounds of flour until it worked all through the dough.”

Matthew 13:33 (NIV)

Note: This week’s reflection comes from Reed’s wife, LeAnn, adapted from a sermon she once gave about the parable of the leaven.

Jesus said the Kingdom of Heaven is like dough—yeast and flour mixing together to make bread. As a longtime baker, I’ve learned a couple of things about yeast and bread over the years.

• It’s so ordinary. There is nothing unusual about a woman taking some yeast and kneading it into bread. This little scenario—a woman baking bread—is nothing special at all. It’s actually pretty unremarkable—just a woman making bread. Nothing special going on here.
• It’s alive. If water is too cold, yeast isn’t activated. If water is too hot, yeast is boiled to death. But active, happy yeast gets all bubbly and frothy. That’s how you can tell it is alive and well—it changes. It’s also messy. Living things tend not to be tidy, and yeast is no exception. The frothy bowl of yeast gets dumped into a giant bowl of flour, and you’ve got an even bigger mess. You have to knead it; it gets all over your hands, shirt, and countertop. When I bake bread, the house smells amazing by the end of the day, but there is evidence of flour and bread everywhere.
• It takes time. If you rush it, you’ll end up with really tough and crumbly bread. Bread that hasn’t been kneaded is no good, just the same as bread that hasn’t rested. There’s no (inhale) air (exhale) in it. There is a rhythm of working the dough and letting it rest. You knead it for 10 minutes and let it rest for 90. Then you knead it for another 10 and let it rest for 45. The funny thing about yeast is that some good rest actually makes it productive.

So, how is the Kingdom of Heaven like yeast?

• The Kingdom of Heaven is in the ordinary. If you are looking for the Kingdom of Heaven, don’t look past the ordinary. Don’t look past the pile of dirty dishes on your way to work or a church member in the lobby on your way into the sanctuary. There is a way of living that looks totally ordinary to the naked eye but is actually a holy prayer of gratitude embodied. Whether another long line at Walmart, another afternoon cleaning the bathroom, another presentation to make, or just a plain loaf of bread—the Kingdom says even this could be holy.
• The Kingdom of Heaven is alive. Alive! Jesus didn’t say these weird, hidden things about the Kingdom in the parables and then sacrifice his life by dying on the cross only to leave us with strange, static descriptions and instructions. He rose. He is alive. We rise with him. The Kingdom of Heaven is alive. He is unpredictable and surprising. Are we okay with the Kingdom of Heaven being alive and changing? Living things change, and oftentimes the evidence of life is mess and change. If you’re a person uncomfortable with mess and change, this Kingdom might be uncomfortable for you.
• The Kingdom of Heaven takes time. When we moved into our house, I began learning the names of our neighbors, organizing block parties, and praying for people as I would run by their houses in the morning. We lived in our house for twelve years, and I don’t have even a single cool story to share of how I saw the Kingdom of Heaven coming on Lewis Street—certainly no story of how all my neighbors got baptized. I have only the tiniest things (conversations at the end of the driveway, an invitation to a birthday party, popsicles in the summer). Still, I believe with everything in me that it is happening—absolutely and almost imperceptibly. Good things take time, so get some rest.

Jesus was an excellent Jewish teacher, and his parables connected back to the Hebrew Scriptures, as with basically everything else in his life and ministry. The woman in his parable hides yeast in “three measures” of flour, and three measures is no accident. In Genesis 18, we find the story of Abraham and Sarah hosting three mysterious strangers. Any guesses how much flour Sarah used to make bread for them?

That’s right—three measures. For reference, that could be over a hundred pounds of dough. That’s ABUNDANT generosity, friends. Hilarious abundance, not logical abundance. This abundance doesn’t make sense. Abundant abundance.

We know in this story that the Lord appears to Abraham, but does Abraham know? Is Abraham simply observing a code of hospitality, or is he seeing God? Does he just recognize that this is the right thing to do, or does he recognize in their faces the face of God Himself? Could he be seeing three strangers yet perceiving the very presence of Yahweh God? Abraham seems to know he is in the presence of the Lord. He is addressing them as Lord. He is bowing low to the ground. He is rushing around to serve a ridiculously abundant amount of bread to them.

It reminds me of something Jesus talked about…

“Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothes or sick or in prison?”

What happens when our hospitality becomes hospitality to Jesus rather than for him?

When it’s hospitality for Jesus, you want to do it because it’s the right thing to do. Not always a bad thing. He did say whatever you did to the least of these… So you want to do it well. You should have plenty of bread and want to ensure you don’t run out because you’re doing this for Jesus! And so the bigger your budget, the better your hospitality for Jesus.

When it’s hospitality to Jesus, though, you are doing it because you recognize or perceive a friend, and there is enough, and your budget matters not at all because even when you do run out of all 50 loaves of bread, it turns out it was your presence he was after all along. What you don’t have in physical space or actual bread, you do have in presence, which is what you’re really welcoming guests into anyway. The thing about presence is that only you have it. And you have it in abundance. So you offer your whole self and all your attention (which is usually harder than offering all the snacks and appetizers).

Not a loaf or two for some friends, but 50 loaves for three strangers. Because, like Abraham, the Kingdom of Heaven says even this could be holy. Even these strangers could be sacred. Even these outsiders could be welcome. We could make a family of the unfamiliar. Even the nobodies could belong. Even the unlovely could be loved. And there could be even more. Not to worry—there is enough and more than enough. Look, we have 50 loaves! We couldn’t eat it all if we tried. There’s enough for these strangers and then just a few dozen more. This table is not meant to be small. What you’ve never seen and never noticed before—what’s happening here—even this could be holy.

Silent Reflection

Take some time to pause, reflect, and listen.

Response

Return to this week's Scriptures each day as you respond throughout the week.

• Where do you see the Kingdom of God in the ordinary?
• In what ways are you currently praying and working for the Kingdom to come that is taking time?
• What are some differences between hospitality for Jesus and hospitality to Jesus?