We often think that the parables Jesus told were told to everyone, but it would appear there were a handful where the premiere was held in private...
Such an occasion is in Matthew 13. The crowds had turned out in full that day, packed along the shoreline, listening as Jesus spoke in parables. He told them deep, meaningful parables - stories with a spiritual meaning- about seeds that fell on different kinds of soil, about wheat and weeds growing together, and finished with a parable about a net cast into the sea.
And then, with the sun going down, the crowds drifted home and the day ended, Jesus and his disciples went back into the house. A moment of quiet. A moment to reflect and the inevitable - questions.
I’ve often wondered about those times, outside of the well written narratives of scripture—what it was like to sit with Jesus after the dust had settled where it was just him and the twelve, debriefing, asking questions, wrestling with what he had said and peoples wide-eyed responses, and then eating hot popcorn with chocolate Minstrels and melted milk chocolate buttons. They were intentionally left reflecting and musing because hearing isn’t the same as understanding—and Jesus knew that.
It’s in this setting, away from the crowd, perhaps with snacks and a bottle of Château Neuf de Jérusalem, that Jesus gives them a few extra meaningful parables meant only for them, including:
"The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which a man found and covered up. Then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field." (Matthew 13:44)
That’s it. Just one sentence. No build-up, no explanation. Silence…
Later, Jesus will ask them, “Have you understood all these things?” And without hesitation, they say, “Yes,” which is almost funny because they clearly don’t.
A Treasure Worth Everything
Jesus had spent the day speaking about the kingdom, but now, in private, he shifts the picture... The kingdom isn’t just a seed or a net—it’s treasure, and not just any treasure. It’s hidden, buried beneath the surface, and not obvious. Not visibly shining or glowing, sitting out in the open for anyone to grab.
It's short and to the point: a man stumbles across it, and in an instant, he recognises its worth.
He sees what no one else sees. And what does he do? He covers it up, and without hesitation, he sells everything he owns to buy that field. He doesn't sell one or two things—his laptop, guitar and maybe his old mobile phone. Not some things. Not a few things. Everything.
His house, his livestock, his security—it’s all on the table. He lets it go, not because he has to, but because he wants to—because when you truly see the treasure, the cost doesn’t feel like a cost; it feels like joy.
The Cost of the Kingdom
Now, imagine the people around him in the imaginary parable. Watching. Whispering. “He gave up everything… for that?” To them, it’s just a field. Just a stretch of dirt. They don’t see what’s beneath the surface.
This is what Jesus is pressing into his disciples. The kingdom is worth more than everything else combined. More than their careers, their homes, their comfort, their plans, or their safety.
But Jesus isn’t just talking about them. He’s talking about himself. If you step back and look at this from another angle, you start to see something staggering.
Jesus is the man in the parable.
He left the throne of heaven, walked away from glory, and gave up everything—not out of duty, not out of obligation, but for joy. The joy of redeeming what was lost. The joy of buying back the treasure buried in the dirt.
And that treasure? That’s us. You. Me. Regardless of how you see yourself.
Let that sink in. It's a parable, if you will, about God.
The cross wasn’t an accident. It wasn’t a tragic ending to a good man’s life—it was the price, the full payment for the field. Jesus saw what no one else saw. He saw a broken, sinful world—and he said, “That’s worth everything.” So, sent by the Father, he went all in.
So now, Jesus looks at his disciples—these men who have followed him, who have left behind their boats, their tax booths, their old lives—and he asks, “Have you understood all these things?” And they, of course, in the awkwardness of the moment, say, “Yes” but raise an eyebrow to each other.
And in retrospect, looking back, we know they don’t understand. In the days ahead, when the cost becomes real, they will hesitate, question, run. And when asked figuratively if they have a sword, out comes the armoury.
It won’t be until after the resurrection, after the Holy Spirit comes, that they finally see as they should—after the Holy Spirit awakens their understanding. And when they do, they will not hold back. They will freely and willingly give up everything—joyfully—because now they know - and now they see the treasure for what, or who, it really is.
And here we are, mobile phone in hand or sitting in front of our computer screen, engaged with the same parable, facing the same question.
Have we understood?
Or are we still standing at the edge of the field, holding onto things that won’t last, wondering if the trade is really worth it? You are not alone…
But the answer is, it is worth it... He is worth it.