Wednesday 29 February 2012

Matthew 13 – Buried treasure


No, you’ve not picked up a copy of everybody’s favourite Robert Louis Stevenson yarn, by mistake.

Believe it or not, Matthew 13 really does appear to be about the unlikely subject of (yo ho ho, shiver me timbers and X marks the spot!) buried treasure.

This comes out most clearly in verse 44…

13:44 Again, the kingdom of heaven is like unto treasure hid in a field…

But the idea of hidden treasure, of something small and easily overlooked, but bursting with hidden potential, is alluded to again and again throughout the chapter.

Even the form of teaching employed by Jesus in Matthew 13 – which is jam-packed with parables from start to finish – is in itself a kind of “treasure hunt” for truth.  For what might appear to be simple, folksy stories on the surface, again and again show themselves to be bursting with the deepest moral and spiritual truths, to anyone with “ears to hear” (verse 9).

Not that parables were everyone’s cup of tea, it seems.  In fact, some of the disciples apparently felt it necessary to interrupt Jesus’ teaching, right in the middle of his exposition of the Parable of the Sower, right in front of the “great multitudes” hanging on his every word, in order to have a quiet word in his ear about the whole, increasingly frustrating, parable “situation” (verse 10)…

Why do you always have to teach the crowds in parables?” they duly inquired.  Why don’t you just stop beating about the bush, and speak to them in plain Aramaic for once?!

But how do you express the inexpressible, or describe the indescribable, or unearth that long-sought-after heavenly treasure that even “prophets and righteous men” (verse 17) have never fully grasped?

Well, in Matthew 13, Jesus began with a “sower” and his seed.

And the seed fell to the ground, small and easily overlooked, but bursting with hidden potential.  And the seed was the “word of the kingdom” – the seed was Christ the “Word”, Christ the “express image” of God – hidden in the often shallow, and often thorny, ground of my life (verses 3-9 and 18-23).

And a seed, like all living things, tends to have a habit of growing – buried in the dark, hidden from every eye – a seed will grow.  Winter seasons will come, and the seed will lie dormant, till it seems barely a spark of life remains.  But as the seasons turn, the hope of new life will once again spring eternal; and only as I rise on that first glorious morning of summer, will it truly be revealed what kind of tree I’ve been cultivating in the “secret places” of my heart.

Like the “mustard seed” of verse 31 – the “least of all seeds”, but “when it is grown”, the “greatest” of trees with birds singing in its branches.

Like the yeast (leaven) of verse 33 – just a couple of handfuls mixed into a batch of dough, but enough to raise a dozen loaves and more.

Like the “children of the kingdom” of verse 38, the “righteous” of verse 43, who “shine forth as the sun” in the kingdom of heaven – because of their “good works”? – because of the “works of righteousness which [they] have done”?  (Titus 2:7, 3:5).  No, because of the “good seed” of verse 37, sown by the “Son of man”, which they have nurtured, unseen, in their hearts.

Which brings us back in a round about way to our “treasure hid in a field”.

Jesus tells us about a man who, on discovering the field’s true value, went off and sold all that he had in order to buy it.

Unlike the man, I can never see with my own eyes, or touch with my own hands, the “treasure” of Christ, which I’ve come to believe is “hidden” within me.  Am I, nevertheless, prepared to bank all on that “treasure”, that “one pearl of great price” (verse 46), and give all that I have in order to possess it?

Bizarrely, where treasure is concerned, perhaps I have more in common with a certain one-legged rascal named Silver, than the man who bought the field.  For, despite all his eyes had never seen, and all his hands had never touched, wasn’t our reckless pirate friend prepared to venture all on a single X, scrawled on a makeshift map?  Whilst the man who bought the field did so with the glitter of gold still fresh in his eyes, and the feel of his new-found wealth still fresh on his fingers.

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In Isaiah 36, the Assyrian “envoy” came to Jerusalem with a “great army” and a message for King Hezekiah (verses 4, 7 and 14)…

What confidence is this in which you trust?  Don’t tell me you still trust in that God of yours?  He will not be able to deliver you!

And though I may not be besieged by great armies, there are times when the Assyrian envoy’s words ring just as loudly in my ears, when it feels like the “treasure” on which I’ve banked all, amounts to little more than childish stories, parables, and fairy-tales for dreamers and romantics, who ought to be old enough to know better.

And there I stand with my world-weary scepticism on the one hand, and the stories and parables of Matthew 13 painted like a big red X right across the other – stories that don’t try to argue or persuade, but simply mark out the spot, point out the way, and constantly challenge me to lay aside every doubt and venture all in order to obtain all – “all spiritual blessings in heavenly places in Christ” (Ephesians 1:3).

So hoist up the mainsail, me hearties!  Take one last look at them thar harbour lights, them thar lights of hearth and home.  Then take a good, long look at this here map, and this here X.  ‘Cause it’s for Treasure Island we be bound this day, boys – for Treasure Island, I say!  And neither wind nor wave, tide nor tempest, shall stand in our way!