Poison Ivy

I do not like Poison Ivy, Matt I am,

I do not like Poison Ivy in my yard,

I do not like it in a jar.

I do not like Poison Ivy in my hat

I do not like it, unlike bats.

I do not like it in my eye,

I would not eat it, if made in pie.

I do not like Poison Ivy garnishing Ham,

I do not like it, Matt I am.

Folks, I do not like Poison Ivy.

And I have a long history with it too because it exists and has existed in the places I’ve wanted to be.

I’ve wanted to be in those places even though I am allergic.

Like my childhood neighbor’s backyard for instance.

They had this wonderful forsythia bush back there that you could crawl into and find yourself in this Narnia like shelter, completely enclosed in a canopy of green leaves.

A place to find quiet and a place of refuge.

I loved that that little bit of Eden but inevitably after crawling in there, I would catch poison ivy.

And I would catch it bad, too.

My face would swell up, I would get blisters in the webbing between my fingers.

I would still be sent to school though, only a missing limb or at least 2 of three knuckles missing would serve as a valid excuse for me to miss school.

So I’d walk the halls of Prendergast Elementary or Dodd Junior High School having people stare at me as if they just saw the Swamp Thing.

Because I. Looked. Like. The. Swamp. Thing!

Or even just recently when I planted a weeping dogwood on the hill behind my shed, I caught poison ivy again.

Except this time, I caught it in my actual eyeball.

And this was just before we were to take a couple of days off and head up to Lake George for a quick vacation.

I’m telling you, I wasn’t going to miss my time up there; only missing limbs or, well, you get the idea, would have stopped me.

So I walked around the village with people staring at my red and watering eye as if they just saw Rocky Marciano after a fight, because I. Looked. Like. Rocky. Marciano!

So yeah, not a fan of the noxious weed and I imagine many of you might agree.

Poison ivy gets the thumbs down.

Now, what if it was said the kingdom of God was like poison ivy.

I think you might realize the humor in that.

But beyond the humor, there is some usefulness to poison ivy.

First, it’s a food source, especially for woodland animals; deer, chipmunks, birds, etc.

Those animals eat the berries and the berries on a poison ivy plant can last throughout the winter.

The plant also provides protection for smaller animals, lizards and frogs; rabbits and birds.

Bees like the pollen found in the small white flowers of the plant and use it as a source of nectar.

This is the case for a lot of pollinators including butterflies and wasps.

I do not like wasps, Matt I am!

Never mind…

The poison ivy vine will even deter garden pests and reduce the need for chemical repellents.

And finally, because it is a crawling vine, poison ivy’s roots will stabilize soil, thus preventing erosion and retaining organic matter.

And so, we can look at poison ivy and say, yes, it is like God’s kingdom; look at how it helps the environment in so many unexpected ways.

Yet, in response, we would have to say well, that’s a good point, but I cannot touch it.

I am allergic.

Is it possible then God’s kingdom is not for me?

That I can admire it from afar, but to enter it would cause me great discomfort and even pain?

Well, no.

God’s kingdom is not beneficial for some to the detriment of others.

So, why poison ivy?

Why the mustard seed?

Why compare the kingdom to something that is so invasive, so disliked?

Because just like a gardener in this day and age, if the farmer in Jesus’ time saw the mustard plant growing in a place it shouldn’t have been, they would have pulled it up.

To leave it in the wrong place would choke light and water and root space from the plants the farmer needed to feed his family with and sell at market.

Jesus’ audience would have understood this as they were mostly rural folk and thus the radical nature of using this plant as an example.

The kingdom of heaven is like the mustard plant that will grow from something small and then tear down all that you need to survive.

It will steal from you food in your bellies and cash in your pocket.

That, folks, is NOT the message Jesus is trying to portray, I assure you.

And if that’s the case then why not use a better example, the example of the cedar tree referenced in Ezekial for instance:

Thus says the Lord God: I myself will take a sprig from the lofty top of a cedar; I will set it out. I will break off a tender one from the topmost of its young twigs; I myself will plant it on a high and lofty mountain. On the mountain height of Israel I will plant it, in order that it may produce boughs and bear fruit, and become a noble cedar. Under it every kind of bird will live; in the shade of its branches will nest winged creatures of every kind.

That seems like a more romantic option, the noble cedar protecting all of God’s creation.

Is that not like God’s kingdom, too?

Well, sometimes we need to be distracted from our norms.

We need to be given something to chew on, (and please don’t chew on poison ivy, by the way.)

Of course the kingdom of God is like the cedar tree, it is beautiful, carries a wonderful perfume, it provides shade and shelter.

And if we just go from town to town saying as much, the message becomes somewhat banal, somewhat expected.

But, and lets hear Jesus out, but!

What if the kingdom of God was like some noxious weed?

Some odious thing that gives us painful rashes or takes over the plots of land we need to survive.

Wouldn’t it be fantastic if the kingdom of God was just like that?

Sort of wakes us up, doesn’t it?

Because we have to really think about this.

So, the mustard seed is small and grows into something huge.

And that’s one way of looking at it.

As if we had one small ministry that that started out small then grew to change the world.

And we are wont to quote Margaret Mead who wrote, “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it's the only thing that ever has.”

And it is a wonderful idea and a wonderful quote because that is our dream for every ministry, that we will put out our sign that says here is food, take some and we will feed the world.

Here is my coat for I have two, and we shall clothe the naked.

Here is but one cup of water and from there, we shall sate the world’s thirst.

That is what we do.

That is what we are called to do.

And sometimes we start small and from small things shall grow great things.

And yet, God’s kingdom is not small.

It is vast, indeed it is infinite.

So, look at that mustard plant; look at an untended patch of poison ivy and see how it utterly and if left to grow, will inalterably change its landscape.

That is God’s kingdom.

It will change all things where it lands.

We are the small part, we are the seed, the kingdom is without bounds.

The kingdom is not small.

It is us that will grow within it because we, when we accept the gift of Christ in our lives, we will be utterly and inalterably changed.

The kingdom is like the mustard seed because it changes us, individually and more importantly all of us collectively.

We are changed by the kingdom and so we create roots that will dig deep and branches that will provide shelter.

And we cannot escape it.

In fact, we do want to escape it.

So, let us pray for the mustard seed and let us pray for the poison ivy vine.

May the blessing of God’s kingdom touch us all in the form of something that overtakes us, infects us with God’s love, and ultimately changes the landscape in which we live, utterly and inalterably.

Amen.