Pentecost 3: “Let Anyone with Ears to Hear Listen!”

Ezekiel 17:22-24

Psalm 92:1-4, 11-14

2 Corinthians 5:6-17

Mark 4:26-34

The parable is by far Jesus’ preferred way of conveying the truth of the Kingdom of God, his consistent method of conveying what I like to call the “cosmic economy”.  And while parables are common in the rabbinic literature of Judaism, and even among pagan writers, they appear in Gospels to a degree unknown in other literature of the period.  In fact, as Bruce Metzger and Michael Coogan observe in their reference work on Biblical ideas, “…if one includes every simile, proverb, and aphorism that Jesus taught, then almost everything Jesus said falls into the category of parable.”  But what exactly is parable?  We may think we know, but when actually pressed with the question many people – even many Christians – find ourselves at a loss to come up with a clear, succinct answer.  If we can again look at the work of  Metzger and Coogan, they define the parable as “a picturesque figure of language in which analogy refers to a similar but different reality”.  The biblical scholar Donald Juel (with whom I ventured for the first time into the world of New Testament study in the form of his book  An Introduction to New Testament Literature) defines a parable in terms of their purpose: “to interpret abstract teaching by means of concrete analogy”.  And he goes on to cite that in the Gospels parables serve a variety of functions: they explain abstractions like the kingdom of God or forgiveness; they warn, for example of the danger of riches; they respond to the criticism of the religious authorities. 

So, we see that Jesus’ parables refuse to be neatly pinned down, their definition arises not only from what they are, but at least as much from what they do, their purpose, and even that is not one and succinct.  If this is true of their definition, it is at least as true of their interpretation or meaning.  As such, some scholars point to the important distinction between the genre of parable and that of allegory, with which the parable is so often confused.  The French biblical scholar Etienne Charpentier expressly made this distinction when he wrote that while both parables and allegories are expressed in the form of stories, the “allegory is aimed at teaching.  It is a story constructed expressly to help understand something, and the details correspond to particular entities.  So Jesus says, ‘I am the vine, you are the branches…’ ”  Parables are never that direct, they rather enable and invite a more open-ended reflection. 

Nevertheless, from the very beginning of the Church Christians have tried to apply to them allegorical interpretations, in which every detail of the parable stands for something else, and thus is yielded from it a definitive meaning. This temptation is evident even among the Gospel writers.  We see it, for example in the parable of sower.  You will remember it; it is the one in which the seed falls on all sorts of soil, and Jesus ends the parable with the words “whoever has ears to hear, let them hear.”  Nevertheless, he takes his disciples aside, and explains the parable allegorically noting what each sort of soil is meant to represent.  In fact, we see the beginnings of that tradition this morning in Mark, the first of the gospels, when the writer tells us that Jesus “explained everything in private to his disciples” (Mark 4:34) Well, the majority of biblical scholars believe that this tradition, and certainly the explanation of the parable of the sower is not from the earliest strata of the Jesus tradition, but instead an attempt on the part of the early Christian community to ascribe specific meaning to the parable.  It does not mean the explanation is invalid, but it does highlight the extent to which Jesus in fact did not explain the meanings of his parables.  He instead left his hearers to conjecture for themselves, to glean a meaning arising from and imbedded in their own experience and lives.  In this sense the parable marks a call to engagement.  The “learning”, for lack of a better word, is left for the hearer to glean, not for the teller to explain; and for this reason the words “Let anyone with ears to hear listen!” (Mark 4:23) appear so often in the gospels on the lips of Jesus, and almost always after he has told some parable or other.

Such an injunction – “Let anyone with ears to hear listen!” (Mark 4:23) – demands that those who follow Jesus, who listen to him and seek to join the enterprise of the kingdom do the hard work of thinking things through, of discerning what his words mean in their lives.  In the Jesus movement there is no room for easy answers or cheap conversions, there is no room for groupies, but only for those who really count the cost of joining him.  This open-ended process of interpretation and meaning-making has continued through the centuries in the Church; and while we have sometimes forced parables into the mold of allegory, they continue to make the invitation for people to discern their stories according to the hearers’ lives and experience in order that they can yield meaning which is relevant and challenging.

Today the lectionary affords us with two parables.  The first is certainly powerful, yet its interpretation seems straight-forward: the kingdom of God grows silently and in the dark, while people sleep.  But could not also it be saying something to us about church growth, or about the passing of time?  Perhaps it is saying something about the extent to which we pass our own lives asleep in all kinds of ways – missing what is really important.  Its language carries with it some interesting constructions: “the kingdom of God is as if someone would scatter seed”.  The kingdom of God isn’t the scatterer of the seed, neither is it the seed or the field, nor even the growth.  The kingdom of God seems to be the meeting point of all these things.  What can that signify?  Equally the second parable presents its own tricky language and images that leave more questions than explanations.  On the surface we can see a clear meaning – the kingdom starts small, but eventually grows to become a place for everyone.  But did you notice that the kingdom does not grow into a mighty tree like a cedar as depicted in Ezekiel.  No, it becomes a shrub; granted the “greatest of all shrubs”, but a shrub nonetheless, and I don’t know about you, but  I just don’t consider a shrub of whatever size very sturdy.  But what does this mean, that the kingdom is a shrub?  Does it mean that while it can hold many people, it must always be supported, tended and strengthened?  Does it mean that it is always fragile, no matter its size and potential for shelter?  Place yourself in the parable.  Who are you – the tiny seed? the grown shrub? one of the birds that makes a nest in the branches of the shrubs?  What does what you see yourself as signify for you?  I hope you can understand what is meant by the open-ended meaning of parables.  Listened to well, they engage us and draw us in, hopefully to our emotional and spiritual growth.

I am sure that I have mentioned before the Jewish idea of the “70 faces of Torah”.  The rabbis believe that each verse as well as each story in the Scriptures can bear many interpretations according to the context in which it is read and experienced.  Torah is a living thing which engages and challenges the Jewish people afresh in every generation.  It is a sobering thing for Christians to bear this in mind about Scripture generally, but perhaps most importantly about the parables.  They too have their many faces, some not yet even discerned; and even two thousands years later they echo still the challenge of the one who first spoke them: “Let anyone with ears to hear listen!” (Mark 4:23)