Matthew 13:33, The Leaven Within

This photo shows about 9 ounces of sourdough starter descended from the Carl Griffith 1847 Oregon Trail starter. It’s from a live culture sample from the 1847 Oregon Trail Sourdough Preservation Society, often called Carl’s Friends, a group that keeps the starter going and shares it with others. The picture captures the starter just after feeding with fresh flour and water, so fermentation has barely begun.

In 2020, during the early days of the pandemic, sourdough became a cultural phenomenon. Kitchens everywhere filled with jars of starter as people searched for something productive to do at home. Flour and water sit on a counter, quiet and unimpressive. Nothing dramatic happens at first. Then bubbles appear. The mixture expands. The dough rises from the inside out. Anyone who has tried it knows two things. It takes patience, and it can be messy. The growth presses against the edges of the jar. Sometimes it spills over. Transformation is slow, internal, and ultimately effective.

Jesus once pointed to that same process. “The kingdom of heaven is like leaven that a woman took and hid in three measures of flour, till it was all leavened.Matthew 13:33. No spectacle. No noise. Something small disappears into something large, and from within, everything begins to change. In the parable, Jesus’ main point is the kingdom’s pervasive, often unseen spread—not the mechanics of individual spiritual growth. Yet the sourdough jar on a modern counter becomes a living illustration of that ancient truth and its faithful application to the life being shaped by it.

Scripture uses leaven in both hopeful and cautionary ways. Jesus warns of “the leaven of the Pharisees” in Matthew 16:6. Paul repeats the principle in Galatians 5:9. “A little leaven leavens the whole lump.” Sin rarely storms the gates of the heart. It seeps in. It reshapes desires and dulls conviction. What once troubled us becomes easier to excuse. Like a neglected starter turning sour, the inner life can shift without notice until the flavor changes completely. Yet no drift is beyond the reach of God’s mercy, and repentance remains an open door at every stage of that slide.

Yet leaven is not only a warning. It is also a promise. When the Spirit leads us to choose what is right, we enter a different kind of fermentation. Obedience often feels awkward at first. Old habits resist. Pride resists. Comfort resists. The Spirit works quietly beneath the surface, stretching the heart beyond familiar limits. Hebrews 12:11 reminds us that discipline yields “the peaceful fruit of righteousness.” The pressure inside the dough is not destruction. It is preparation.

This speaks to sanctification. God does not merely forgive. He forms. He reshapes the inner life so the outer life gradually reflects Christ. 2 Corinthians 3:18 describes believers being transformed from one degree of glory to another. The work is steady and personal. Like sourdough, it requires daily attention, humility, and time. You cannot rush it, yet you cannot ignore it.

Both sin and righteousness leaven the heart. One hollows and sours it. The other fills and nourishes it. Our prayer is not for the absence of tension but for endurance within it. The jar may overflow now, the dough may stretch beyond comfort, yet the finished bread brings sustenance and joy. The kingdom grows quietly within us until the work is complete and the heart rests fully in the presence of Christ.

~PW 🌮🛶

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