Chapter
7
by Fr. Thomas Keating
The Parable of the Leaven - II
He told them another parable:
"The kingdom of God is like yeast which a woman took and mixed in with
three measures of flour until all of it was leavened." (Matthew 13:33)
Jesus says the
kingdom of God is like leaven. In the ancient Mediterranean world as we saw,
leaven had very negative associations. It was the archetype of uncleanness and
corruption. Leaven was made by putting a piece of bread in a dark, damp place
until it molded and stank. Both leaven and the process of leavening were symbols
of corruption.
In the Jewish
tradition men were considered ritually pure and women were ritually unclean. As
a consequence, rabbis were forbidden to speak to women in public. No rabbi
giving a formal sermon would cite a woman as heroine of any story. Jesus
frequently did so in his parables, however, ignoring the stereotypes of his day.
In this parable
Jesus addresses the popular idea that the kingdom of God is holy, good, and
triumphant. The kingdom turns out to be active in the marginalized and the poor,
both of whom regarded in Jesus' day as objects of God's abandonment. The state
of poverty was regarded as the result of sin and hence was a symbol of
corruption. Natural calamities were also regarded as punishments from God.
In this parable a
woman takes leaven, the archetype of corruption, and hides it in three measures
of flour, the same amount that Sarah used to make bread for the angels who
visited Abraham at Mamre. There is thus the implication in the parable of a
divine epiphany. Moreover, the enormous amount of dough that is leavened
suggests not just ordinary corruption, but monumental corruption.
The hearers are
surely thinking, "How can the kingdom of God, which is supposed to be holy,
good, and triumphant, be like leaven, the archetype of corruption? Is the
preacher implying that evil is good?"
Let me propose a
story that seems to raise the same issues as this parable. The great popular art
form of our times is the movies. Everybody goes to the movies nowadays. Once in
a while one of them proposes similar questions to those that arise in the
parables. Not long ago I saw a movie called Our Sons. It was about two
mothers, with two gay sons. One of the mothers was a poor woman whose
fundamentalist religious background caused her to regard her son's lifestyle as
an absolute taboo; she had completely disassociated herself from him. The other
woman was upper middle-class and a well-to-do liberal. She considered herself to
have adjusted well to the situation. In fact, she was just as angry and
resentful as the other mother, but in her own way. It was clear to her son that
he was not accepted.
As the plot unfolds,
the son of the poor woman is dying of AIDS and longs to see his mother once
again, but is afraid to write to her. His friend persuades his own mother, as a
special favor to him, to visit the poor woman and pay for her to travel to see
her dying son. The poor mother turns out to be a down-to-earth woman who sees
through the denial of the other mother. Our Sons might have been called
"our growth." A growth process is clearly taking place in the two
mothers as they struggle with their common humiliation. The behavior of the sons
is an equal no-no for both of them, though each reacts in a different way.
Finally, when the
poor woman comes to see her dying son, she makes several visits but each time
she stays near the door. Something inside her remains fearful and unreconciled.
The son is getting weaker and weaker as death approaches. When it is time for
her to return to her home, she comes for a final visit and to say good-bye. This
time she cautiously tiptoes over to his bed. The camera focuses on her hand as
she ever-so-slowly and cautiously reaches out and touches her son's hand
extended toward her. She has at least overcome her prejudices and fears.
The kingdom of God
is active where we perceive monumental corruption. If the poor mother had not
reached out and touched her son in a sign of reconciliation and forgiveness,
what would have become of her? She would have remained permanently walled up in
her own security system, desperately trying to protect herself from the pain of
the reality of the situation and from the demands of true love.
The divine action
makes use of what seems like corruption in our eyes to change us, to open us to
the kingdom, which is present where we least expect it. The kingdom of God is
present and available in what happens. The question is not why upsetting or
devastating things happen, but what we are going to do with them now that they
are happening? The divine compassion is intervening in our behalf, but not on
the level we want it to be or can perceive it to be. It is working mightily at a
deeper level where grace enables us to say yes to God in the events of daily
life.
In reaching out to
her son, the mother opened herself to God's salvation. By being reconciled with
her son, she enables him to die in peace. The kingdom of God manifests itself in
solidarity with other people, in sympathy with their misfortune, and in
unconditional love. It is most active in situations that seem to us to represent
monumental corruption.
The Jewish religion
of the time identified everyday life with corruption and the sacred with the
temple rituals and the great feasts. Jesus teaches that everyday life is the
place of the sacred. The temple is no longer the place to look for it. Everyday
life is the arena where the kingdom is most powerful. The kingdom is especially
present and active when we are confronting what we think is monumental
corruption. What are we to do with it? Jesus does not give the answer in the
parable; he just invites us to beware of predicting, on the basis of our
prepackaged beliefs, what is good and what is evil.
More information can be obtained by reading the book The
Kingdom of God is Like . . .by Fr. Thomas Keating. It is offered in our Book
Store.
