"The God of Small Things”
- Dr. Todd R. Wright
- Apr 5
- 5 min read
You could argue that the placard placed on the cross that mocked Jesus as the “King of the Jews” could have read King of Small Things.
Matthew 28:1-10
April 5, 2026
Dr. Todd R. Wright
It would be easy to be distracted by the summer blockbuster parts of Matthew’s resurrection account: the sudden earthquake (yes another one!); the angel rolling back the stone like a contestant in the world’s strongest man competition; his lightning-like appearance enough to scare experienced guards half to death!
But I want to invite you to notice the easily ignored, the often dismissed, the small – for that is where God usually works.
For this is the God who used two midwives to save countless baby boys from Pharoah’s paranoia, who picked the runt of the litter to be the greatest king of Israel, who transformed a little flour and oil into enough to feed a prophet and his caretakers for many days, and, yes, who was born as a baby in little Bethlehem!
I was tipped off that this might be a fruitful angle by Bil Lepp, five-time winner of the West Virginia Liars contest. He was the keynote speaker at the recent Festival of Faith put on by the Presbytery and he mentioned one of his books called The King of Little Things.
It begins, “Long ago, on the far side of a mountain, lived the King of Little Things. While other kings busied themselves with the big things of this world, he happily ruled over all things small.
He was king of …
coins, candles, combs, keys, knots, nods, knobby knees,
bottles, buttons, beetles, burps, chiggers, chips, chickadee chirps,
petals, paddles, paper clips, lamp wicks, lentil, lizard lips,
mittens, marbles, macaroni, barnacles, bats, and fried bologna.”
Lepp contrasts him to King Normous who wanted to be king of all the world. So he gathered a BIG army and “raided realms, squashed sovereignties, and eradicated empires. ‘At last,’ proclaimed King Normous as he lifted [a] glittering crown from its velvet cushion, ‘I am King of All Things!’”
When King Normous is confronted with the existence of the King of Little Things, he blusters, “What nonsense! Everyone knows that little things exist only to serve big things” and sends his armies to conquer this small king too!
Eventually he had the King of Little Things taken to “the deepest, darkest cavern in the land [and] ordered the entrance sealed with a stone. A BIG stone.”
You see the parallels, right? (It’s almost like Lepp knows the gospel story.)
Rome has conquered the known world and revels in its might … but it is threatened by anyone who might challenge its authority. So, at the request of the religious leaders in Jerusalem, it crucifies Jesus and only relaxes when he is placed in a tomb and a stone, a BIG stone, is rolled across the entrance, and sealed, and guarded.
You could argue that the placard placed on the cross that mocked Jesus as the “King of the Jews” could have read King of Small Things. He was from a small town not a big city; he led a small band of followers not a big army; he told parables about small things like seeds and yeast, salt and a widow’s coins; he took the time to bless small children; and when he finally showed up in the big city, it was riding on a small colt, the foal of a donkey.
So, perhaps it is no mistake that when Matthew tells Jesus’ story, he includes the small, the easily ignored, the often dismissed – like the two Marys.
Jill Duffield, former editor of the Presbyterian Outlook, writes,
“I can’t imagine the heavenly being in dazzling white. I don’t know how to picture the Risen Christ. But I know the Marys. I know faithful men and women who are inevitably around before the crack of dawn or available in the dead of night, no matter how dire the circumstances.”[2]
She says, when people are paralyzed with grief, but the rituals of death must be followed:
“They are the ones who cook the meals and [set up] the fellowship hall for the reception that follows the service. They are the ones who [make] sure boxes of tissues are strategically placed and bottled water is available. [They hand out bulletins. Also,] they are the ones who sit by the bedside, visit in the hospital, place phone calls, write notes and pray without ceasing.”
Like the Marys, they are easy to overlook, but things would fall apart without them.
Duffield continues, “I appreciate Matthew’s version of the resurrection. Heaven and earth are full of God’s glory in [his]” account. But really, the angel and the earthquake are a warm-up act to the Risen Christ who meets the Marys on the road.”
They are at the tomb because their love for Jesus is greater than their fear; they are entrusted with the good news because they did not flee like the rest; and they are headed to share that the risen Lord will meet the disciples in Galilee because they believe enough to act.
That’s no small thing!
I mention all this because it is easy for us to come to Easter and feel small.
We are not the mega-church following up their live nativity at Christmas with a live rolling away of the stone for Easter. We cannot rival the Morman Tabernacle Choir’s nearly 400 singers. You will not hear a sermon by one of the 12 Most Effective Preachers in the English-speaking world.[3] (I’m not even number 13!)
But if there is anything that this story proves, it is that small is not unimportant.
Like the Marys, we have been given a task – to share the good news of the Risen Lord!
And we are called to start, not in the big city, but in whatever is our Galilee.
Michael Curry, who was presiding bishop of the Episcopal Church, admonished his flock: “Go to Galilee.” Then he explained,
“Galilee. Which is a way of talking about the world.
Galilee. In the streets of [your neighborhood].
Galilee. In our rural communities, in our hospitals, in our offices.
Galilee. Where God’s children live and dwell.
In Galilee you will meet the living Christ for He has already gone ahead of you.”[4]
The people of your Galilee do not need you to overwhelm them with earthquakes and the heavenly host. They just need you to do the little things that Christ showed us how to do:
like loving your enemies, and bringing healing to the desperate;
like practicing peace in the face of violence, and feeding the hungry;
like standing up for the outcasts and the rejected, and calming the afraid;
like proclaiming that the kingdom of God has come near, and working to build it.
That is work enough for followers of the Risen Lord, the God of small things. Amen
[1] Fresco of the “white angel” and the myrrh-bearers at Jesus’ grave, c. 1235 AD., Mileševa Monastery in Serbia
[2] Here and following from her reflections on the text for the Presbyterian Outlook, 4/14/17
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