by Rev. Dr John Evans
Today we continue the agricultural theme we began last week when we heard the parable of the sower. This week the kingdom of heaven is described in the parable of the wheat and the weeds, or as sometimes it is known, the wheat and the tares. Both interestingly involve inefficient and unproductive agriculture; and because of this perhaps, both have an explanation provided which forces the parable in a particular direction.
To flag where we might head in this sermon this morning, I want to say at the outset: Jesus is on about boundaries and balance – two qualities often missing in our lives and in the life of the church.
The parable of the wheat and the weeds is not one of the all-time favourites. Indeed, the parable only appears in Matthew’s gospel and tends not to be widely referred to. For all of that, the parable has a very contemporary edge to it and I think it is most helpful for our life together as the Church, as a society, and also for us as individuals.
I really want to focus on the parable itself, as we did last week, and not so much on the interpretation (vs 36-43). Here, even more than last week with the interpretation of the parable of the sower, the interpretation of this parable just does not seem to relate to the actual parable. It is very allegorical, giving every actor or circumstance a particular meaning or part – something the parables of Jesus don’t really do. But more significantly, the interpretation unduly emphasises what happens to the weeds when judgement finally comes. It really lays it on thick, taking pains to emphasise that there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth for all those weeds. The actual parable, however, is not so much about this end to the story (it does get a mention, and I would like to come back to it), but what happens when the farmer is informed that there are weeds and wheat growing together. The focus of Jesus is on this decision while the crop is growing, not at the time of harvest.
So the parable goes:
Someone sows good seed.
Some enemy comes during the night and sows weeds. (Now no-one has to sow weeds in my garden; they just come up automatically. Here, however, someone sowed the weeds and that could be significant.)
With obviously the good seed and the weeds growing together, the farmer’s servants ask if they are now to gather in the weeds. . . and presumably let the wheat mature and flourish.
The farmer replies,
No; for in gathering the weeds you would uproot the wheat along with them. Let both of them grow together until the harvest; and at harvest time he will tell the reapers (a group different from his own servants) “Collect the weeds first and burn them, but gather the wheat into my barn.”
And that is the conclusion of the parable. We don’t know actually what happened at the harvest time; but at least the weeds were given a reprieve at the time the farmer’s servants noticed them.
Scholars believe Jesus was referring to a particular weed called darnel (pictured) – in translation it means “cheat”.
Apparently it commonly grows in wheat fields and closely resembles wheat while it is growing – and it is only at maturity the distinction can be clearly made. Another feature of darnel is that it has a vigorous root system that entwines itself with the roots of the wheat. To remove darnel will necessarily mean that the wheat also would be uprooted. If however, the darnel and wheat make it through to maturity, and their respective grain is ground together – the wheat becomes inedible and is potentially deadly. Cheat seems like a good name for this weed.
This is a story about good and evil, pure and impure, right and wrong being entwined and what do you do about it?
The farmer gives us a surprising answer to what we might have expected. We would have thought that he would have ordered the weeds to be removed then and there. Well, it is what I would do in my garden if I see a weed. He doesn’t. And if you believe Jesus is talking about darnel you sort of can understand why. You can get it wrong – wheat and weeds at a critical stage in their life look alike. The good and the bad can look the same. Are you really removing the weed, or is it the good plant? Furthermore, to root out the weed you are going to damage the good plant. Remember their roots get entwined. However, at some stage separation is required – if you don’t, you will be poisoned. So this is the way of the kingdom of heaven. The kingdom of heaven is like the wheat and the weeds.
Isn’t this a parable about the reality of the world; the reality of religious communities and the moral reality we all face? How do we respond to the ambiguity of modern life, and it would seem ancient life?
As I said, I think Jesus is simply talking about boundaries and balance.
Boundaries are important. There is acceptable and unacceptable behaviour. People are sinful. There is the way of Christ – sometimes it is difficult to discern, as with darnel and wheat. But hang on – don’t rush to judgement; show balance and restraint. As we like to say, it will all come out in the wash.
All around us the goodness of God is evident; God’s abundant grace is felt and lived out. And yet wherever we turn there are also stark examples of human sinfulness: genocide in Dafur; environmental degradation the world over; racism, religious bigotry, greed and so on. Indeed at this point it is interesting that in the parable, the weeds are sown intentionally. The mixture of good and evil we experience around us is not due to some perversity of God, or just random “act of God” as we say; it is there because of human involvement, human sin and wickedness. Humans because of greed, or lust, pride or arrogance. . . or whatever, sowed those weeds.
We need, however, to be careful here. This parable is not about other people, and other contexts. We should consider ourselves. We all know that there are various sides to our own character; the light and the dark; the public and the private – whatever. We all know we do and say things we subsequently regret; we all know we behave in ways we should not. In all of us there are the wheat and the weeds. Alexander Solzhenitsyn in his chilling book The Gulag Archipelago said,
If only there were evil people somewhere insidiously committing evil deeds, and it were necessary only to separate them from the rest of us and destroy them. But the line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being.
It is a profound human reality. God is holy; and yet we live in a world that is tainted and unholy. Purity in this age is unattainable. The act of rooting out the impure will lead to far greater damage and harm. History is littered with the stories of the quest for righteous purity which in turn has led to inhumane harm and hatred. Arthur Miller’s play, The Crucible about the witches of Salem is a powerful reminder of how we can be swept up in a frenzy of righteous anger and hatred. Indeed the worst sort of anger and hatred is usually the righteous variety.
In these profoundly ambiguous times, Jesus’ message of boundaries and balance becomes a critical message for each one of us. Within the church, where the differences over homosexuality and biblical interpretation are tearing us apart, can we really be pure in our view – to the exclusion of another, and not thereby infringe a host of other ideals in our discipleship? It relates to our interfaith dialogue, it relates to complex and troubling issues confronting our globe at this time. During the week I just happened to be listening to the radio when the Minister for Climate Change, Penny Wong, was presenting the government’s green paper. Here was perhaps the critical issue of our time. Boundaries and principles needed to be articulated about tackling climate change – but was it a one-dimensional issue. Who would be affected, what was going to be the mechanism or mechanisms to address the issue, who would bear the responsibility, was that role justly shared and so on.
Righteous dogmatism will get you only so far; but then, unprincipled pragmatism will get you nowhere.
This parable is a judgement on those who have the arrogance and the certitude of attitude that they can judge others. There is a strong human tendency to want to remove a corrupting influence, or remove one self from the corrupting influence. I don’t think Jesus denies this. In fact his call to discipleship is rigorous and strenuous and he expects his followers to understand the boundaries – they are called to take up their cross. Great wisdom however, is needed – the power of the Holy Spirit is needed, to guide, sustain and direct how our principles are put into action.
The parable however, does not diminish the force and importance of judgement, of some ultimate accounting. As I said, it all comes out in the wash in the end. Boundaries and our principles are still going to be important in that exercise. This parable – without entirely dissolving the anxiety created by the expectation of judgment – does address what life can be like now. Next week we will look at two other, perhaps more familiar parables (vs. 44–46): one of those parables describes the joyful pursuit of treasure hidden in a field; and the other tells of a merchant who sells all he has to purchase “one pearl of great value.”
You see, in light of the coming judgment, the present should not be a time of paralyzing nail-biting, or debilitating finger pointing, but a time of risk, of joyful ventures taken, of discovering what is really valuable, of a boldness not intimidated by the fear of failure, of a persistence in pursuit of the coming reign of God. It is a time of being clear of the boundaries and having a balance in understanding them. And the Son of man who sends his angels to effect judgment (13:41) is the Son of man who on earth forgave sins freely, who suffered at the hands of betrayers, and who confirms for us that God’s gracious promises can be trusted.
Didn’t Luther say “sin boldly”? Boundaries and balance.
