«The kingdom of heaven can be compared to a mustard seed...»
by Franco Cardini
One of the most difficult but most fascinating traits of the Gospel is that of the landscape of the Holy Land of Jesus, which can be glimpsed through the words of the evangelists. Of course, it is not easy to get a precise idea: from then to now, the landscape and the climate, the flora and fauna, have undergone various types of changes; furthermore, the difficulties inherent in translation processes (essentially those from Aramaic to Greek, which concern the Gospel of Matthew on which both that of Mark and more indirectly that of Luke depend to a certain extent) can often lead us into error. The same is true for mustard, or mustard, which Matthew discusses and to which Jesus brings the kingdom of heaven closer.
It is probably the "brassica nigra", the "black mustard", an annual cruciferous plant (can the fact that Jesus refers to a plant whose flowers have four petals arranged in a cross?) that grows in Europe have a symbolic value, in western Asia, in northern Africa, and which has very small ovoid seeds (1 or 2 mm in diameter) but which, when adult, can reach 1 or even 2 meters with its straight stem: «it is the largest of all legumes and becomes a tree, so much so that birds come from the sky and nest among its branches." Thus the text of Matthew.
The medicinal properties of the powder taken from the seeds of the plant and the cruciform flowers are well known: for internal use, it was - and still is today - used in respiratory tract diseases and rheumatism in the form of a compress; internally it is a spicy condiment that stimulates digestion. One might wonder if, in referring to mustard, Jesus is not outlining a fundamental aspect - the thaumaturgical - of his presence among the men of Palestine two thousand years ago.
But the central point of the parable is not this. It consists in the attention that the Savior wants to draw to the fact that a small seed generates a large plant. The kingdom of heaven is a small cause that brings great effects. The kingdom of heaven is a modest start that produces huge results. Yet, let's be honest: there is something disturbing about that mustard seed, the properties of which are irritating, burning. That seed may be small, but there is something scandalous and rebellious about it. It is usually said that that seed is us, it is the Christians; and their works, their example. "Small" works and examples, that is, not grandiloquent, not rhetorical, not preachy, but at the same time not calming, not conformist, not even shy. Nowadays, Christian values or values which in any case can be seen in a non-contradictory relationship with Christianity are shared, and even claimed and flaunted, by many parties: even by those who have nothing to do with Christianity. This is undoubtedly a good thing, but it can generate many misunderstandings; and it can cause some more naïve Christians to believe that the kingdom of heaven is near, since everyone is talking about it; and that Christianity is becoming something superfluous, since even those who are not Christians are inspired by values that closely resemble those preached by the Gospel. This is the impression we can get from the repeated talk of peace, justice, equality, freedom. Yet, we see that the facts that accompany and support this type of continuous declaration are not at all consistent with them. The sweetish conformism that accompanies them - today talking about these values is not at all scandalous, on the contrary it corresponds to at least a boastful thought of the majority - is precisely the opposite of the acrid, sour taste of the mustard seed. It doesn't bother you anymore.
But the Christian, mustard seed, must annoy. And if annoying with words is now almost impossible, since the mass media have accustomed us to the hypocritical nonsense of a world that preaches virtues and practices vices, we must annoy with actions. And testify with the documents. Be with the example of mustard seeds. To a world that preaches peace and then practices violence and even trades in it (we see it in films, comics, music, youth cultures), respond by concretely practicing the virtues of moderation and forgiveness. Today, for example, it is very fashionable to declare against violence against animals, in whatever form it is practiced. it is easy, in the name of this new slogan, to blame the butchers, the furriers, the leather workers, the vivisectors, the hunters, and then continue to live as before; and, armed with a good certificate of civic and moral commitment such as having signed for this or that referendum, continue to eat meat, wear leather and furs and so on. In the vast majority of cases, we Christians act exactly like this in all things. But try to lead by example. Try not to protest against anything, not to rail against anyone, not to contest, not to denounce; but, very simply, starting with you refraining from collaborating in any way, even indirectly, in actions that seem condemnable to you. Don't just preach, waiting for others to take the first concrete step. Only in this way will the seed become a great tree.
One last note. We all remember the famous Foil of Francis of Assisi and the sermon to the birds, which thirteenth-century painters routinely translated into images depicting the birds on the branches of a large tree, intent on listening to the words of the saint. What better representation of the evangelical parable? According to an ancient symbolism that dates back to the Egyptians, and which psychoanalysis has rediscovered, the bird is a symbol of the soul. And the birds listening to Francis seem to be a perfect symbol of the souls who, hearing the Word of God, perch on the branches of that tree - the mustard with cruciform flowers, the cross - which is the kingdom of heaven. "The birds of the sky come and nest among its branches", says the evangelist.