The
lectionary these weeks is bringing us through a portion of Matthew’s Gospel
that contains many of Jesus’ parables, and so each week we are presented with a
new teaching of Jesus from those stories. Last week, we heard the parable of
the sower and learned the reason why the sower flings seed everywhere, seeking out the hidden good
soil in the midst of the troubles of the world. Today, we have another
agricultural parable, known most famously as the parable of the wheat and the
tares.
Like last
week’s parable, we once again have the uncommon trait of Jesus explaining the
meaning of the parable. I think these two are the only parables he does that,
although I could be mistaken. But even with the explanation, I think we badly
miss the message Jesus is trying to convey here.
In the
Luther movie from a few years ago, there is a scene about mid-way through the
story where Luther is on trial for heresy. He’s at the Diet of Worms and he’s
making ready to give his testimony. His old mentor from the monastery, Staupitz, is giving him a shave and they’re having a
conversation. Staupitz laments about the way that
things have turned out, and he comments at one point that all his life, he’s
seen a world that hates evil more than it loves good.
Looking
over the width and breadth of history, I see a lot of truth in that statement.
Humanity always seems to on a crusade to destroy evil, no matter the cost. We
are far more eager to destroy, than to create. Far more eager
to harm than to nurture. We are much like the angels in this parable, ever
so eager to go out and rid the field of all the weeds, heedless of the
destruction it will cause to the wheat.
War is
probably the most potent example of this. War may sometimes be necessary to
stop tyranny and evil, but we must never forget that it also inflicts its own
evils upon the world. We defeated the Nazis and the fascist Japanese 60 years
ago in the Second World War, but how many civilians died when firebombed
The
necessity of these and all other wars I leave to your own judgment, but there
can be no question that in our efforts to eradicate a few weeds, we have
wrought much damage upon the wheat of the world. But war isn’t the only way we
do this. There are a lot of different ways human
societies show that what Luther’s mentor said bears the truth. Another example. It is a common pattern in societies,
organizations, and institutions under duress to label the problem as
originating in an individual or a group or a family. It’s called scapegoating.
Andy’s been
passing around photos of some event that took place here at
We were
often the scapegoat for the nation and more than one Lutheran church was burned
to the ground during those years. What was our crime? Nothing
more than having a common origin with the Kaiser.
We interned
the Japanese during the Second World War and of course the most
vile example of scapegoating in history was
its contemporary, where Nazi Germany blamed the Jews for all their economic
troubles and then set about exterminating them. But this happens even on a
smaller scale. Families blame the black sheep. Churches kick out a family or a
pastor because it’s all their fault. We seek to
destroy the evil, but so often we destroy good along
with it.
We hate
evil more than we love good. More
eager to destroy than to create. More eager to harm
than to nurture.
What we so
often fail to see is the reality that Christ does and then conveys to us in
this parable. We often think of evil as over there, that other, that person,
that country, that race or ethnicity. Jesus reminds that evil is intertwined
with good, just as the roots of the wheat and the weeds are intertwined in the
field. In each of us is the potential for both. Evil’s not over there; it’s right here. Within us. And
good is not solely here, there’s good over there too. Our lives, our natures,
are not black and white. There is much grey within us.
Thomas
Jefferson wrote those immortal words about freedom and liberty in the
Declaration of Independence and yet was a slaveowner.
MLK Jr fought for the freedom of his people, brough down Jim Crow, and made equal rights for people of
all colors a goal and ideal of this nation, but if rumors are to be believed,
he was not the most loyal of husbands. And in each of us, there are strengths,
there are triumphs, there is much good that we have done, and yet at the same
time, there are mistakes, there are flaws, there are
regrets for things we should have done differently.
Is it worth
destroying the good to rid us of the evil? Too often, I think we have answered
yes to that question.
Jesus, on
the other hand, has a different answer. Here is one that truly loves the good
more than he hates the evil. And he counsels patience. In all of us, he seeks
to nurture that which is best in us, in all people, with the hope that the
wheat will grow up stronger than the weeds. He grants graces untold, skills,
talents, the people around us who love and care for us, ideas and inspirations,
all working upon us to make the good stronger, healthier, more fruitful.
And that
effort often bears fruit. We have seen time and time again of stories of great
deeds performed by the most unlikely of people. Of incredible good accomplished
by those we once believed evil. I’ve used
It can
sometimes be hard to wait for God to bring his plans to fruition; hard to wait
for the harvest when we will be rid of evil within and without. But the promise
of the harvest is sure and in the time between now and then, God may have a lot
of surprises in store for us. The greatest of all may be the good that we do
ourselves, the lives we touch and change by our compassion and love. We may find
the weeds are not so strong after all, and our wheat bears much fruit. But this
can only happen if we let God work upon us. Don’t underestimate what he can do.
He can change your life and he can change the world through you. He just needs
to let your wheat grow. Amen.