The Dream of God
(“God’s
kingdom is like a treasure hidden in a field. One day a man found the treasure.
He hid it again and was so happy that he went and sold everything he owned and
bought the field.” Matthew 13:44)
It was a
normal day, and by normal, I mean he took the same route by foot
that he always took, walking five blocks west, crossing across the park and
lingering briefly at the fountain (it always seemed to know his name), then
continuing north the building where he worked for 25 years. He still hadn’t
quite figured out what his job was. Or better put, how what he did intertwined
with what everyone else did. They had departmental meetings, but only one
department at a time.
He was not
bored, he was hypnotized. The same walk, the same pace, the
same project, the same people, the same “how are yous” and “hope you’re fine”
every day had cut a highway through his mind that all the electrons followed;
a racing oval without knowing the perfect ending. All that was missing was
the checkered flag.
One Tuesday
(he knew it was Tuesday because that’s the day he bought a
coffee and croissant from the vendor at the park. One Tuesday, croissant in
hand
and the coffee warming his mouth, he traversed the park one more time,
the itinerary well remembered and rutted through his brain. Just as he was
about
to move from the grass to the concrete of the roadway something caught his attention.
He thought
it a toy. Maybe a dime-store keepsake. It might be from a child’s
Halloween costume or a young salesman’s sample case. He picked it up and
held it in his palm.
Blue like a stellar jay, more blue than his grandson’s eyes, darker than the
sky,
but brighter than the water’s flow; its weight told him it was more than glass.
He had started the day like every other Tuesday. The sky was the same as yesterday,
the stoplights blinked the same time as they always did. The same doors
opened to the office buildings that never changed, not just day to day, but
year to year.
He set the
jewel down, and with his well-groomed fingers scratched a hole
in the dirt deep enough where it wouldn’t be discovered. He marked the spot
with gps location and continued on to work.
But the
sapphire, that precious treasure, stayed hidden within his churching mind.
He had never seen a thing like it before. He must have it. He must make it his
own.
Leaving work he walked back to the spot where the gem was buried. He wrote down
the coordinates and the next day went to the bank, asking about that spot of
land.
Though surrounded
by a public park, this bit of land, this mini-acre, was private
land and the owner had long ago wished it sold. The man, gathering all he had,
made an offer, and, accepted, he sighed the papers and rushed to the site
again.
He was
apprehensive. What if someone had come across his treasure while
he was gone? He gently moved the dirt away from the treasure, and there it was,
gleaming as the late afternoon sun danced on its facets.
He
laughed. He danced. He held a party. He left his job. He fed the homeless
man who sat outside his building. He stopped by the hospital to see his
adversary and wish him the best. He took his wife to the club, and bought
his children the biggest, brightest books they had ever seen.
This is
the kingdom. This is the joy. This is the beauty of God’s dream
for the world. Lean over. Pick it up. See its beauty and dance…simply dance
at your good fortune. God’s dream of peace not war is upon us.
God’s
dream of light not dense is here.
God’s
dream of sense taking the place of lies has begun.
God’s love
that heals the sick and the sorrowful is fully formed before us.
God’s
dream of circles of people owning nothing but the need to share
everything one on one to each other.
Nations dissolved
their boundaries; missiles were decommissioned and
turned to playground equipment.
Churches
closed because the celebrations just never ended and spilled
out on the streets. This is the kingdom that no empire of the world can defeat.
