Reflections on Matthew 13:44,45 & Isaiah 11:6
Every God-fearing Christian family ought to have a family
bible, but we did not have one. The
local Hallmark Store had one, but my mom was not interested and I couldn’t
afford it. In the eyes of my twelve-year-old self, it was beautiful and awe
inspiring, and necessary for gaining God’s benevolent attention. A large, white, leather-bound volume with an
embossed gold cross and gold-gilded pages that crinkled when you turned them, and of course a page in the front of the bible for your family tree, as if to
say … our family is rooted in God. I was
certain that we needed to have one, for by having one it would be so. We would be safely root in God’s good
graces. But alas, my mother was not
interested and I could not afford it.
The kingdom of heaven is like a
treasure hidden in field, which someone found and hid; then in his joy he goes
and sells all that he has and buys that field.
We were familiar faces at the local Hallmark Store and with
every visit, I asked the store clerk how much that bible was. Every week it seemed the price was lower, but
never low enough for a six grader’s allowance no matter how long I saved. Weeks had past and with each visit, I feared
that the Bible would be gone, sold to some other God-fearing family.
One bright sunny summer day, we had yet another occasion to
return to the Hallmark Store for yet another greeting card. While my mom shopped up and down the isles of
cards, I searched the shelf next to the front counter. A rush of relief washed over me when I found that the bible
was still there. I could not help
thinking that this bible was meant for my family. It was waiting for me, for us. At twelve, I was not in any way outgoing or
even comfortable with strangers, let alone store clerks, but I had to ask one
more time; “How much is that bible?”
The kingdom of heaven is like a
merchant in search of fine pearls; on finding on pearl of great value, he went
and sold all that he had and bought it.
The clerk, who had been asked that question by me many times
before, hesitated for a moment and then responded to my question with a
question; “How much money do you have?”
My heart sank, because I knew I didn’t have enough, but I told her
anyway. She nodded, and with a hint of a
smile, simply said, “sold.”
***************
I miss that twelve-year-old.
I miss the naiveté and simplicity of faith that longs to be found in
God’s good graces and is willing to give all that one has to receive it. While her theology makes me cringe just a
little, there is something that still rings true. God’s grace, while by its very nature free,
is best received when we are willing to give all that we have, or better yet
all that we are, to experience it.
The kingdom of heaven, the very kingdom whose coming we were
taught to pray for, is worth investing ourselves in fully. And whether we believe that we have a lot to offer or
very little, it is always enough.
What is expected of us isn’t more than we can give, but only all we have
to give. Adulthood has made that truth
hard to grasp and even harder to live. We
are jaded and risk adverse and poor judges of our own value. That makes God’s grace seem too good to be
true and the kingdom of heaven too impractical, too impossible, to fully
embrace. What then are we to do?
The wolf shall live with the
lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and
fatling together, and a little child shall lead them.
Perhaps every God-fearing adult ought to be led into the
kingdom of grace by the hand of a young child.
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