Matt 13:31–33, 47–50 — The Hidden Empire of the Son of Man

There are seven parables of the kingdom in Matthew 13, each revealing some aspect of the kingdom of God. The kingdom is central to the preaching of Jesus. At the beginning of his ministry, he declared, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.” His hearers might naturally ask what this kingdom is and how they should understand it. Jesus answers those questions through these parables. Each illustrates and explains a particular facet of the kingdom’s nature.

The first, the parable of the sower, tells us that the kingdom advances through the preaching of the gospel and the effectual calling of the elect. Responses to the gospel vary according to the soil. Some soil has not been prepared, and the seed brings forth no fruit. But in the good soil, prepared by the Holy Spirit, the gospel bears abundant fruit. Matthew 13:23 provides the key: the seed sown on good soil is the one who hears the word and understands it. The person hears the word of the gospel and, by the work of the Holy Spirit, understands that gospel, is saved, and bears much fruit.

The parable of the sower therefore establishes the context and gives us the proper orientation for the other parables. The kingdom Jesus proclaims is a spiritual kingdom that advances through the preaching of the gospel and the Spirit’s work of effectually calling the elect to believe the gospel and receive Jesus as the Messiah. Each of the remaining parables fills out another aspect of this teaching. The three parables before us—the mustard seed, the leaven, and the net—belong together and must be interpreted together if we are to understand the significance of the kingdom of God. They show that the kingdom comes in a hidden and mysterious manner through the calling of the elect by the preaching of the gospel. It is the hidden empire of the Son of Man.

Christ’s kingdom is not immediately obvious to everyone. It does not enter the great stage of world history with mighty armies and geopolitical power. It comes through the seemingly hidden means of gospel proclamation. Yet these parables assure us that the kingdom, though it begins small, will extend to the ends of the earth.

The Mustard Seed and the Leaven

Jesus says that the kingdom of heaven is like a grain of mustard seed, the smallest of seeds, which grows larger than the other garden plants and becomes a tree in which the birds of the air make their nests. Here he calls to mind a passage from the Old Testament.

Nebuchadnezzar’s Great Tree

The prophecy of Isaiah has been a major part of the Old Testament background to Matthew’s Gospel. In Matthew 12:17–21, for example, Matthew quotes Isaiah 42: “Behold, my servant whom I have chosen, my beloved with whom my soul is well pleased. I will put my Spirit upon him.” Matthew also alludes to Isaiah 35: the lame walk, the deaf hear, and the blind receive their sight. These are signs of the messianic kingdom of Christ.

Isaiah, however, is not the only prophet important to Matthew and to Jesus. The prophecy of Daniel is also significant. Daniel is filled with apocalyptic visions of the end times, angels, mighty powers, and beasts rising from the earth. Its fantastic imagery may sound familiar to readers of Revelation because Revelation later draws upon Daniel.

In the parable of the mustard seed, Jesus alludes to the vision King Nebuchadnezzar recounts in Daniel 4:10–12:

The visions of my head as I lay in bed were these: I saw, and behold, a tree in the midst of the earth, and its height was great. The tree grew and became strong, and its top reached to heaven, and it was visible to the end of the whole earth. Its leaves were beautiful and its fruit abundant, and in it was food for all. The beasts of the field found shade under it, and the birds of the heavens lived in its branches, and all flesh was fed from it.

Nebuchadnezzar was the king of Babylon who besieged Jerusalem, carried the Jews into exile, and took sacred vessels from the temple to Babylon. Daniel 5 later records how another Babylonian king profaned those vessels at a pagan feast, using objects consecrated to the worship of God to celebrate Babylon’s apparent supremacy over the nations. Nebuchadnezzar regarded himself as the greatest and most powerful man in the world. Yet when he received this vision, he could not understand it. The magicians of his court could not interpret it, but God revealed its meaning to Daniel, one of the Jewish exiles serving in the Babylonian court.

In its immediate context, the tree represents Nebuchadnezzar, not Christ. Daniel tells the king, “You are the tree.” Nebuchadnezzar imagined himself as a mighty tree whose empire ruled the world. The beasts of the field and the birds of the heavens picture the nations he had conquered living beneath his shade. His empire appeared to provide for the whole world. But the tree in the vision is cut down. Nebuchadnezzar, who thinks himself something great, will be humbled until he acknowledges that there is a God in heaven and that his empire and authority are his only because God has given them to him. The mighty king is not autonomous; even his rule is subject to the King of heaven.

As the visions of Daniel unfold, the mighty world tree becomes an image of empire: the whole world lives beneath the branches of this cosmic tree. The image resembles the idea of a world tree found in other ancient traditions—a great tree embracing the whole created order. In Daniel, however, the point is that Nebuchadnezzar’s empire will fall, and God will establish another kingdom in its place. In Daniel 2, a stone cut without human hands becomes a great mountain that fills the whole earth. Like the cosmic tree, this cosmic mountain represents a worldwide kingdom.

The kingdom of Babylon will be replaced by the kingdom of the Messiah. Christ is the stone cut without human hands. That detail indicates that we are not speaking of another merely human kingdom established by human strength. His kingdom is not produced by political calculation or military might; it comes from God. It is the divine kingdom of Christ, the great mountain that fills the earth and the great tree of Matthew 13. It is the empire of the Son of Man.

These themes reach their climax in Daniel 7, where one like the Son of Man approaches the Ancient of Days and receives a kingdom so that all peoples and nations will worship him. Daniel 2, Daniel 4, and Daniel 7 are thus closely connected. Together they anticipate the true kingdom, made without human hands, which will replace and conquer the kingdoms of man. Jesus identifies himself as the fulfillment of these prophecies. The allusion is evident not only in the birds nesting in the tree’s branches, but also in Jesus’ explanation of the parable of the weeds: “The one who sows the good seed is the Son of Man” (Matt. 13:37). That title comes from Daniel 7:13 and the vision of the Son of Man who approaches the Ancient of Days at his ascension and receives a kingdom. The Son of Man possesses the true spiritual kingdom of God that will overthrow all the kingdoms of man.

Jesus is the stone that becomes the great mountain. He is the true tree that fills the earth, with the birds of the air nesting in its branches. Those birds represent the Gentiles, the nations called as the gospel goes to the ends of the earth.

The Kingdom Hidden Like Leaven

Jesus then presents the kingdom from another angle: “The kingdom of heaven is like leaven that a woman took and hid in three measures of flour, till it was all leavened” (Matt. 13:33). The kingdom is not only the glorious world tree foretold in Daniel; it is also something unobtrusive and easily overlooked.

In the ancient world, leaven was not packaged yeast added to dough. A portion of old, fermented dough was reserved and inserted into a fresh batch when the next loaf was made. The woman in the parable takes this leaven and “hid” it in the flour. That word is significant because the theme of hiddenness runs throughout Matthew. Jesus says that the Father has hidden these things from the wise and understanding and revealed them to little children (Matt. 11:25). He tells the disciples, “To you it has been given to know the secrets of the kingdom of heaven, but to them it has not been given” (Matt. 13:11). Matthew 13:35 speaks of truths “hidden since the foundation of the world,” and verse 44 compares the kingdom to treasure hidden in a field.

Many people walk across that field without knowing a treasure is there, but one man finds it, sells everything he has, and buys the field. In the same way, the parable of the leaven communicates the hiddenness of the kingdom. Earlier in Matthew 13, the disciples asked why Jesus spoke to the crowds in parables. Having told them that the secrets of the kingdom had been given to them, he added, “Blessed are your eyes, for they see, and your ears, for they hear.” The prophets and righteous people of the Old Testament—including someone such as Daniel—longed to see and hear the fulfillment of their prophecies, but saw it only from afar by faith. The disciples now behold the answer and fulfillment of those prophecies.

From one perspective, the kingdom is a glorious world tree, a mighty empire. From another, it is imperceptible and inconspicuous. The world may not recognize its glory. It is a hidden kingdom.

Leaven works with subtle force. Yeast is a single-celled organism called Saccharomyces cerevisiae. Through fermentation, it converts sugars and starches into carbon dioxide and alcohol, and the carbon dioxide makes the dough rise. The organism itself is unseen, secretly working within the dough. We do not observe it directly, but its effect is real, pervasive, and powerful.

The woman hid the leaven in three measures of flour “till it was all leavened.” The word “all” is important. It cannot mean that every person will be saved, because the parable of the net includes both good and bad fish, and at the end of the age the angels separate the wicked from the righteous. The complete leavening must therefore refer to the appointed worldwide reach of the gospel: it will be proclaimed “throughout the whole world as a testimony to all nations” (Matt. 24:14).

At that moment in history, around A.D. 30, the kingdom appeared insignificant. It consisted visibly of Jesus and his small band of disciples proclaiming the gospel while the majority of Israel rejected him. There were the Twelve and other followers as well—Luke tells us of seventy disciples—but this was still a very small beginning. The kingdom seemed like a tiny mustard seed with little apparent impact. Yet it would work like leaven and eventually have worldwide reach.

At the end of Matthew’s Gospel, the risen Jesus declares, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.” He then commands, “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.” Here “nations” does not refer primarily to modern nation-states, a comparatively recent political concept, but to the Gentiles—the different peoples of the earth. That is why we must take care not to import our modern political idea of a nation-state into every biblical reference to “the nations.”

Compared with its small beginnings in Jesus’ earthly ministry, the gospel has now gone to the ends of the earth. Jesus is fulfilling the prophecy of the worldwide tree: the birds of the air, the Gentiles, are making their nests in its branches. The kingdom begins in apparent insignificance, yet the gospel will be proclaimed to every people, tribe, and language under heaven. The mustard seed and the leaven thus describe both the kingdom’s hidden beginning and the worldwide extent of its appointed work.

The Net and the End of the Age

The parable of the net supplies another essential part of the picture. If we considered only the mustard seed growing into an enormous tree and the leaven permeating the dough, we might conclude that the kingdom gradually develops until it becomes the eternal state of the new creation. The parable of the net shows that this is not so: history will reach a crisis and divine intervention at the end.

Jesus says, “The kingdom of heaven is like a net that was thrown into the sea and gathered fish of every kind” (Matt. 13:47). The word translated “net” does not describe the one-man casting nets used by the disciples in Matthew 4:18–22. It refers to a much larger dragnet, requiring several men and capable of encircling many fish before being hauled to the shore.

The net gathers fish “of every kind.” The free offer of the gospel is universal; it reaches every sort of person. The image resembles the seed scattered upon all kinds of soil. Some hearers display an initial, temporary faith but fall away, showing that their faith was not saving faith. Others respond with genuine faith and bear abundant fruit. As the seed falls on every kind of soil, so the massive dragnet gathers every kind of fish. The gospel is not restricted to one social class, ethnicity, or people; it is cast broadly into the world.

When the net is full, the fishermen draw it ashore, sort the good fish into containers, and throw away the bad. The words “when it was full” recall the description of the mustard seed: “when it has grown.” Matthew 24:14 tells us that, amid tribulations, wars, and rumors of wars, the end has not yet come because the gospel of the kingdom must first be proclaimed throughout the whole world. Acts 1:8 expresses the same calling: Christ’s disciples will be his witnesses in Jerusalem, Judea, Samaria, and to the ends of the earth. The phrase “the ends of the earth” is another way of describing the calling of the Gentiles. The Gentiles will receive the gospel, but their responses will be varied, some good and some bad. The full net will not simply evolve into heaven; a decisive separation must occur.

The kingdom is present in this age through the preaching of the gospel, the effectual calling of the elect, and the formation of the visible church. The visible church is a mixed body containing both the elect and the non-elect. Just as weeds grow among the wheat, bad fish are found among the good. The parable of the net therefore helps us interpret the earlier parable of the wheat and the weeds.

Only at the end of the age will everything be made clear: “The angels will come out and separate the evil from the righteous and throw them into the fiery furnace. In that place there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth” (Matt. 13:49–50). The Greek word translated “end” means not merely a terminal point but the consummation of the age, when God fulfills all his promises in the eternal kingdom and the new creation.

We should not be surprised to find evil people in the midst of the visible church. Indeed, the Greek of verse 49 says that the angels will separate the evil “from the midst of” the righteous. They are, for the present, in our midst. Yet we must not take matters into our own hands and attempt to accomplish that final separation ourselves. We must wait for the day of judgment, when all things will be made clear and the wicked will be cast into the fiery furnace—that is, into hell.

This seventh and final parable focuses on the eschatological consummation of the kingdom. The earlier parables might suggest only a gradual process, as though the kingdom in this age would slowly develop into the new creation. The parable of the net corrects that impression. The conclusion requires an apocalyptic intervention: the Son of Man will come with his angels to separate the wicked from the righteous. The kingdom grows throughout this age, but only Christ’s return brings the promised consummation.

At various times in church history, Christians have wrongly attempted to bring that judgment into the present age. In medieval Christendom, the church used the civil power to enforce true religion and execute heretics. Some theonomic postmillennialists or dominionists envision something similar in the future: as the church succeeds, more people become Christians, the world is Christianized, and the nations confess Christ, they anticipate a glorious revival of Christendom. In that vision, church and state are united and the sword implements God’s judgment ahead of time in this life. But Jesus, the King of the kingdom, commands patience. The final separation belongs to him at the end of the age.

Living in Christ’s Hidden Empire

These parables teach us that eschatology matters. The subject has acquired a bad reputation because people often associate it with elaborate charts that attempt to correlate current events with prophecy, determine whether the rapture occurs before or after the tribulation, or calculate how long the tribulation will last. By “eschatology,” I do not mean that sort of speculation. I mean the broad picture of God’s plan for world history and its conclusion.

Jesus devotes considerable attention to teaching his disciples these things. He reveals the mysteries of the kingdom here in Matthew 13 and later speaks at length about the end in the Olivet Discourse of Matthew 24. He wants his disciples to understand the large pattern of what God is doing in history and the nature of Christ’s kingdom. Eschatology affects how we live in the present age. It shapes our understanding of the church’s task.

According to Jesus, our task is to preach the gospel. We are to follow him in sowing the seed while entrusting the results to God. We are not called to transform society or convert nations in order to establish Christendom. We are called to proclaim the gospel, cast the net widely, be faithful to what God has entrusted to us, and serve as salt, light, and leaven. The field is the world; the whole world lies open before us for evangelism. The church is in the world, though not of the world. We should neither confuse the kingdom with political dominion nor despair because the church lacks such dominion.

We may be confident that Christ’s hidden empire will triumph, even though we do not yet see that victory in its fullness and will not see it until the end. We can hear Christ saying, in effect, “Leave the results to me.” He will bring his kingdom to completion and consummation when he returns at the end of history. This should encourage every believer.

Christ reigns, and his kingdom advances, even when we can see only small evidences of it. We see individual Christians and churches, and the gospel reaching one place after another, but we also see apparent retreat. We see the gospel advancing in one place while its influence recedes in another. Europe once enjoyed the light of the gospel but has become increasingly secular and dark, and our own country faces many of the same difficulties. We see through a glass dimly, yet we may remain confident that Christ’s hidden empire is prevailing and will one day be unveiled in all its glory.

It will emerge victorious from the cocoon of history, and then “the righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their Father” (Matt. 13:43). We naturally desire that public glory now. We want the church to shine in some great and unmistakable way before the world. The hope of Christendom can express that desire for a public and visible triumph in the present age. Jesus assures us that such glory will come—but not yet. It will come when Christ returns, casts the wicked out of his kingdom, and brings the righteous into their promised glory.

Cultural and political influence are not necessary for the church or for the victory of Christ’s kingdom. Dominion is attractive to our natural desires. Because Christ is King, we may suppose that we should possess such power now. Yet the victory of Christ is not measured by the church’s social prestige or control of civil government. History shows that greater political and cultural power has often brought the church a different set of trials and greater confusion about the gospel. Money and power tempt toward corruption. The medieval church appeared glorious in its political authority, yet that authority became deeply corrupted, culminating in abuses such as the sale of indulgences, as though salvation could be purchased with money. Martin Luther’s protest arose from that corruption fostered by the intertwining of church and state.

We belong instead to the hidden empire of the Son of Man. Amid difficulty, trial, and tribulation, we know that Christ is victorious and that his victory will one day be revealed in glory. Acts 14:22 provides a remarkable summary of the Christian life. As Paul revisited the churches he had founded and encouraged new believers to remain faithful to the Lord, he told them, “Through many tribulations we must enter the kingdom of God.” We should not be surprised by difficulty, rejection, or hostility. Through many tribulations we enter the kingdom, for we are pilgrims in this world.

Therefore, rejoice that Christ is King and that his hidden empire will one day be revealed in all its glory. Consider the thousands and millions whom Christ has effectually called through the preaching of his gospel. We do not know their names. Think of believers throughout the Middle Ages and even earlier centuries who came to Christ and trusted in him. Many were among the poor of the earth and possessed no influence in this world. Their faith may have been hidden from the view of history, but it was not hidden from Christ. Their apparent insignificance did not mean that the kingdom had failed. One day we will see them all in heaven and rejoice together in the fulfillment and glory of Christ’s kingdom.