A Handful of Mustard Seed

Going through our transitions. A theme for Lent.

Today is Transfiguration Sunday, the last Sunday before we begin the season of Lent. In
our reading from Mark, we watch, along with Peter, James, and John, as Jesus is “transfigured”
before them. This is a change. Jesus changes before their very eyes, and they see him in a new
way, as the Divine Christ, the Son of God, worthy to be worshipped.
Everything changes. Our bodies change. Our careers change. Our relationships change.
This reading is an invitation for us to enter the season of Lent with the theme of transition in
mind. Transition. Going through our changes. We watch and we follow Jesus as he goes through
the stages of the cross, and all along, there are transitions, until he arrives at the point where he
returns to heaven; he goes back to God.
This Wednesday, we will observe Ash Wednesday, that strange thing we Christians do
when put ashes on our forehead, carrying the sign of the cross on our forehead, painted in ashes.
I remember one time years ago in Dallas I attended an Ash Wednesday service early in the day, I
think it was around 10:00am. I received the ashes on my forehead, and it was quite meaningful.
And then, I kind of forgot about it, and I went to the grocery story later that afternoon.
In the grocery store aisles, I noticed several sidelong glances. I didn’t know if I was being
paranoid, but why did people seem to be looking at me? Later that evening, when I got back
home, I caught a glimpse of my face in the mirror and saw the big black cross on my forehead!
No wonder people were staring!
But this thing we do on Ash Wednesday is a reminder of death, and the truth of death. In
life, we are in death, and death is the ultimate transition, our transition to the life beyond the
grave. Death is not something we like to think about, in fact, any kind of change, any kind of
transition, we meet with resistance. Change is very difficult. And death is perhaps the most
difficult change of all. Death is the end of something. The truth is that everything changes.
Everything comes to an end.
I have a story for you. Once upon a time, there was a woman who lived in a small town in
India. She was a young mother, the mother of a newborn baby. Tragically, not long after his
birth, this baby died. He was only one month old. So, this was a very tragic and unhappy event,
and of course, the mother was distraught.
Now, in that same town, there was a wise sage, a kind of traveling monk, a wise person, a
teacher, who happened to be visiting that town as he traveled throughout the country. The woman
heard about him and went to meet him. She carried the body of her dead child in her arms as she
approached the teacher, and she cried out to him, “Please, sir, can you help me? My child is dead.
Please, sir, can you bring him back to life? I beg of you.”
And the teacher saw this woman’s suffering, and he said quietly, “Yes, I can help you.
But first, I need you to do something for me.” And she said, “Yes, yes. I will do anything. Only
bring my child back to life.”
The teacher said, “Go into the town, and from the house where death has never visited,
bring me a handful of mustard seeds.”
The woman was overjoyed because she knew she would be able to find mustard seeds.
Mustard seeds were the most common spice used in the town. Everyone would have mustard
seeds. And so, she rushed off, going door to door in the town.

She knocked on each door and asked the same question. “Please, can you tell me, is this a
house where death has never visited?”
But each response was the same. “No. Last year our grandfather died.” Or “No, two years
ago, our son died.” Or, “No, last week my dear wife, the love of my life, died.”
On and on the woman went, knocking on doors. And at each door, the story was the
same. Finally, she went back to the teacher and said, “Now, I understand. There is no house
where death has not visited. I have no mustard seeds to bring you.”
“That is correct,” the teacher said. “Death comes to every house. Now, go, and bury your
child.” And so, she did.
Now, this may sound like a bleak and depressing story. But it’s a story that offers the
same invitation for reflection that we find in the Ash Wednesday service.
You know, when we read an obituary, we will often find a line like, “He died
unexpectedly, and the cause of death was cancer.” Or, “She died at age twenty-five, tragically,
suddenly, in a car accident.” We often find these kinds of sentences written in obituaries.
But when we reflect on the truth of death, if we carefully investigate this, we see that
death can occur at any age. And if we look at a bigger picture, we will see that the cause of death
is always the same. The cause of death is birth. And this is because everything that is born
eventually dies. Every beginning has an ending.
You know, we tend to think about our life as a timeline that we carry along with us. We
have all these things that we did in the past, and all the things that happened to us in the past.
And now, here we are, but things are not the same as they used to be. This is a kind of death. The
past is gone, and it will never come back. We have lots of memories about the things we once
did, and the way we used to live. But all that is gone. This is another form of death.
In fact, each moment is a death. This moment dies, and it is gone. This moment, this
particular experience, will never come again. Experiences come and go. So, we are constantly
being faced with this truth. The truth of impermanence. The truth that everything changes, and
nothing stays the same. Every birth ends in death. Every bank account eventually is disbursed
and closed. Every building ever built eventually is destroyed. Every meeting ends in parting.
Our life is a series of transitions, or, in other words, a series of deaths. Transitions in life
are happening each moment, moment by moment. One day, we are children, going to school.
And then, we are young adults, working, raising families, taking care of households, until
eventually, we grow older, and our lives change again. We are not what we used to be, but we are
transformed into something new. And even that new thing will eventually die.
And so, we begin Lent with this theme in mind. Going through our transitions, going
through our changes. Sometimes changes occur slowly, over a period of many years. Other
times, a change happens suddenly, so unexpectedly. But each new day is a transition, until we are
transfigured altogether, going home to Christ, returning to the Risen Savior, the one who holds us
up, even now, in his everlasting arms. Thanks be to God. Amen? Amen.