Treasures, Pearls, and Bad Business Advice

“The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which someone found and hid; then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field. “Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls; on finding one pearl of great value, he went and sold all that he had and bought it. - Mt 13:44-46

William Brosend in his book Conversations with Parables, points out some helpful things about these "seeking and finding" parables. Both of them have some moral ambiguity, he says. Was it ethical to find something in someone's field, re-bury it and then not tell him about it when you offer to buy? Probably not. Bernard Brandon Scott says that it would involve quite a bit of dickering among rabbis as to who was the correct owner of the treasure, and we all know Jesus liked to avoid those meetings. And merchants tend to be shady characters in the Bible, when they are mentioned at all. This one probably intended to whip around and make a big profit off some shnook who didn't know what a pearl should go for. Not your high moral examples, either one. But at least we don't get off the hook thinking that the people in Jesus' stories are somehow better than we are, or more ethical, pious people.

I disagree with Brosend, though, that Jesus was giving some practical business advice - a variant on "be wise as serpents and gentle as doves" - and expecting both the field-digger and the merchant to sell their treasures. That explanation denies us one of the greatest pleasures of a Jesus parable, namely that it's a riddle, a koan, something that simply doesn't make sense on the face of it.

I like that both of them have to do with intense desire and our fears of survival, both things that money tends to stir up for us. Imagine that you are in an art gallery and you fall in love with a painting. You get lost in the vivid reds, yellows, the strong lines. The subject is a child, say, and there is something about her face that calls to you, that reminds you of your own childhood in a deeply personal way. The painting is rare, by one of your favorite artists, one you had never seen before. And you can't help yourself - you must have it. You don't care that it costs hundreds of thousands of dollars. The feeling that it stirs in you, the beauty, the power, makes you lose your head. In a trance, you put your house up for sale, your car, your entire stock portfolio (assuming it's worth anything). Finally you reach the sum, and you buy the thing.

You dumb bunny. Where are you going to put this painting, now that you have no walls? Never mind that, where will you sleep, what will you eat? How could an act of such incredible recklessness be "like the Kingdom of God"?

I think of the Kingdom as human beings embodying God's love for one another. God's love is lavish, abundant, generous. Reckless, Cynthia Bourgeault says. Jesus embodied this as he emptied himself out, gave his entire self for humanity. It's his way of getting to the center, of expanding beyond our usual judgmental and self-interested way of looking at the world. I am strongly reminded of the first three steps in AA, in which you admit your crazy way of trying to control everything (through addiction) has gotten you into hot water and so now you're ready to turn your will and life over to the care of God. You pretty much have to have a total garage sale of the soul for this to work.

So here's what I think: if we are to embody God's unconditional love somehow, the pearl or the treasure is whatever attracts us so wildly we are willing to give our all to it. Sometimes it's suffering, like addiction, that forces our hands. Sometimes life circumstances, like my stepmother getting Alzheimer's. My dad gives the last of his energy and strength to care for my mom. She's not the kingdom. Self-sacrificing love is the kingdom, and the treasure is the lure or the goad that gets us there.

That's just what I think. You?