Persepolis (2007) is a poignant coming-of-age story of a precocious and outspoken young Iranian girl that begins during the Islamic Revolution.

Amnesty International’s local Carlton Group is hosting a fundraising screening of Persepolis at 7pm on Thursday 21 August at Cinema Nova (380 Lygon Street, Carlton).

Tickets are $15 and must be booked in advance; call Sarah on 0422 995 096.

* Carlton’s own Amnesty group meets on the second Tuesday of each month and always welcomes new members. Find out more about what they get up to.

Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43

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.

Hosted by the Leo Baeck Centre, the discussion will continue over three consecutive weeks, but attendance at all sessions is not necessary. Those who can attend only one or two sessions are most welcome.

Thursdays 7, 14 & 21 August, beginning at 7:30pm
Venue: Leo Baeck Centre, 31 Harp Road, East Kew
Melway 45 H4 – Entrance from rear car park.

Enquiries: 9819 7160 (9am-2pm, Tue-Fri) or office@lbc.org.au

Read an extract of People Like Us here to whet your appetite.

As a party to the 1951 UN Convention Relating to the Status of Refugees and the 1967 Protocol, Australia is obliged to uphold the human right to seek asylum in any territory.

The mandatory detention of asylum seekers who arrive on-shore without a valid visa is a choice of the Australian Government. Asylum seekers are not criminals, and are not charged with any criminal offence. They flee oppressive regimes, leaving their own country in search of a life without persecution, torment and discrimination.

In 1992, under the Keating Government, the Migration Act was amended making those asylum seekers held in mandatory detention liable for the cost of their detention, even when they have subsequently been recognised as a refugee.

It is unreasonable and immoral to punish refugees by billing them for the cost of their detention.

Even more perverse are cases where the Government has refused to grant refugee status to someone whom a court later determines is a refugee. Their detention is prolonged by the Government’s failure to recognise their refugee status.

This policy is a barrier to refugees fully integrating into the community, and continues to put significant pressure – both emotional and financial — on people who have already experienced so much trauma and uncertainty in their lives.

Significant debt also makes it extremely difficult for refugees to pursue family reunion.

The Rudd Labor Government has committed itself to treating asylum seekers and refugees fairly and with dignity. Collect signatures on this Uniting Church petition to press for change. Return to the Justice and International Mission Unit by 29 August.

Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23

It is an oldie, but a goodie: the parable of the sower. However, what can it mean for us today?

During the week several of us attended the seminar with Ched Myers.  Ched Myers is a biblical scholar, but more significantly perhaps, a leading figure in what is known as the radical discipleship movement. For many years now has lived in a Christian community in the US and has had close links with groups here in Melbourne like the House of the Gentle Bunyip. His major work is a commentary on Mark, Binding the Strong Man - written 20 years ago. This commentary in turn has been very influential in understanding the particular context – and the struggles – of the Jesus movement back in first-century Palestine. Myers’ basic position is that he sees the gospel of Mark as being like a political manifesto against the imperial forces of the Roman Empire and their religious collaborators. He presents a persuasive case – especially as he sees Jesus and his movement arising from the periphery of the Roman empire in the inconsequential region of Galilee. Right from the start, Jesus in his ministry was in contention with the authorities – the religious authorities who were, if not in collaboration with Rome, certainly needed Rome to keep the peace so they could exercise their own power over the people. In the face of this political context, Myers sees the poignancy of his Jesus’ teaching, his hope for human community and the possibility of a different and renewed relationship among people and with God. This was the kingdom of God which Jesus proclaimed and about which he told parables.

I say all of this as an introduction to the significance of this particular parable of Jesus. . . a parable which appears in Mark and Luke, as well as Matthew. And the context of Jesus’ telling of this parable in Matthew and Mark are very similar. There is this simple message that being a disciple of Jesus is difficult, it can be tough. You may recall last week in our reading – just a chapter or so previously, Jesus is getting frustrated with “his generation” – they were just not getting his message. Prior to that he had sent out his disciples and warned them that they would find opposition and their mission would be difficult. All challenging stuff for people who would wish to follow Jesus. Christ’s mission seemed doomed, right from the start.

This is important to understand because this parable, unlike virtually all the other parables, not only has the parable – but also an explanation. This is just does not accord with our understanding of why Jesus uses parables. Parables are not really meant to have an explanation – and nor perhaps really having sermons on them either! The classic definition of a parable was that it was a metaphor or simile (remember all those ones that begin, the kingdom of heaven is like . . .) drawn from nature or common life, arresting the hearer by its vividness or strangeness, and leaving in the mind of the hearer sufficient doubt about its precise application so as to tease it into active thought”. They are there to surprise and make us think – they challenge our homely assumptions.

So if we are to take the parable of the sower – without the explanation – what would we make of it? Remember we have just been told that discipleship and following Jesus will be difficult, and that “this generation” doesn’t get it.

What we have in the simple story of a person who goes out to sow his grain. The reality of that exercise is that it is going to be difficult and will amount to nothing. There will be the seeds that fall on the path – and the birds will come; there will the seeds that fall on rocky ground – and because they are not able to get root, they will soon wither. Other seeds just fall in among the thorns and they soon will be choked. All in all, not a very successful endeavour. However, the message is that some will fall on good ground – and there will be a harvest. Now the detail here – to us non-first century agrarian types – is that the harvest for the seed that falls on the good soil is amazingly abundant. Apparently you have done well if you get seven times your return for seed. Here the harvest was 30, 60 and 100 fold. This was all stupendous stuff.

The parable is all about an abundant harvest despite all the signs being bad. Even though in our discipleship; or in the ministry of the church, it can be pretty disillusioning – don’t despair. When the word of God – which we assume is the seed – does strike and grow; great will be the change and impact of that message on people’s lives and communities. This parable challenges us to keep at it; and at the same time recognise how amazing the transforming of lives can be when the word of God takes root. The three disappointments in ministry are matched by the three different levels of an abundant harvest.

I think we know this to be true. The history of Church of All Nations, and indeed many congregations, is that there can be many, many endeavours of mission, and many fail dismally; but sometimes one just hits on a need, a group of people, a movement of the spirit, whatever and there is an abundant harvest. For example, the English literacy programs and translation of the services of worship into a variety of community languages, is an example from our own history. They simply took off. No doubt there were other mission attempts, but the time, the soil – was right. There was an abundant harvest.

When we turn to the explanation of the Parable of the Sower – verses 18-23 – we find a different emphasis; but a valid emphasis all the same.

Now it is not clear when this explanation emerged. Jesus’ usual challenge when he tells a parable is to just listen; have ears to hear. Let this parable just sit there with you, and let it speak. He just doesn’t launch into explanations; especially such allegorical explanation – where every aspect of the story is explained and unpacked, and each character has a role or contemporary equivalence.

One does not know where this explanation came from, but it seems to me that this is more a reflection of the early church on their own life, and the need to keep people faithful in their following of Jesus. The explanation seems to come from long, and perhaps bitter experience, that people will join the church and fall away. It is as if the author of the explanation of the parable can picture someone, an individual or group of people, known to them, who are like the seed on the path, or on the rocky ground or among the thorns. The emphasis shifts to failures of the seed; rather than to the superabundance of the seed when it is fortunate to fall on the good soil.

The explanation of the parable becomes then a personal challenge to the hearers not to fall away.

So are we people who find that our life, for whatever reason, just goes off the rails? Our life is snatched out of our control; is snatched by the forces and powers of this world; snatched by the evil one.

The next experience is where the person – like the rocky ground – hears the word; immediately receives it with joy. However, because it is not grounded – the faith does not take root; withers and dies. Faith is just a fad and fashion thing. It is not about the whole of life.

The third type, and not greatly dissimilar to the previous types, hears the word but the allures of this world are too great, and the word is choked. Money, in particular, is their motive for living, not spiritual values.

The challenge that comes from this explanation of the parable is that we all know situations in which people have fallen away from the church. Indeed it may be our own story. Are we therefore there for our brothers and sisters who are finding their Christian journey difficult and subject to a host of different pressures? What are we doing about that; is our community such that people, new to the faith, are nurtured, guided and helped? Are we who have been around forever also nourished and fed and not subject to the temptations of the world? What does this congregation do?

However, there is a final challenge in this reading that may just slip by us.

We just might assume that when we hear this explanation we think of others to whom it may apply – others who are hypocrites, or very shallow in their faith. But let me say, the bar for those who are of the good soil is very high.

One is expected to hear the word and understand the word. Perhaps so far so good – but it is these folk who are to bear and yield the abundant harvest: the hundred, sixty and thirty fold. If you are not yielding a harvest, are you really good soil?

Is that true of our lives?

With the parable of the sower we get two messages for the price of one. We get a message about encouragement in face of difficult circumstances. Take heart, when the word is heard – the consequences are enormous. We also get a message about our own faith and Christian discipleship – do we truly understand and live out the message of Christ . . . or is our faith just shallow, ephemeral and likely to wither?

As Jesus says – let anyone with ears, Listen!

Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30

Do you permit me to make a prediction?

When we look back on the first decade of the 21st century, the years 2001 and 2008 will stand out as being the most significant.

2001 is obvious. The 11th September attacks on the US brought a frightening religious dimension to global issues. This, in turn, led to what will be seen as a monumental mistake, the war in Iraq and, more generally, the so-called war on terror.

2008 will however, be just as crucial and perhaps even more significant. In the first half of this year we have seen the economic changing of the guard. We knew India and China were emerging economies, but it has taken the stumbling of the US economy to see things will be different now. Indeed the whole world economy is stumbling. However, more significantly the world has seen the dire state of the environment and climate change has starkly come into focus. Environmental degradation continues – last week the Russians said the polar ice cap is only half the thickness is was 30 years ago; but the oil price rises have focused the mind enormously. We now realise this stuff is scarce after all. Its use, along with other fossil fuels, just might have had some consequences. And so this year the Murray Darling was pronounced dead, or as the government would say, deadish. It has not rained since the Evans’ came to town – it’s sprinkled, but it has not rained. And in 2008 we have not even got to the Olympics or the Grand Final.

And yet we have childish blame games and denial about this momentous year. Petty’s perceptive cartoon in last Monday’s Age about the elephant in the room sums up this attitude. (We know climate change is there, but let us forget about it as we all try and get short term political advantage.) We are like petulant children, playing their games, being critical of the other kids, not able to agree, and just missing the point. Don’t you remember what it was like as a child? Now I am not quite across the current demands of children, but once it went like this: “I want to play dress ups”, “Oh I don’t feel like it; no that’s boring; besides you always get the good dresses”. Or, “I want to play cops and robbers” “Nah, you are always the goodie . . . it’s not fair, why do I have to be the baddie?” And at that point a responsible adult emerges to calm things down.

Jesus likens his generation to such a scene in the square where the children just banter and squabble – never seemingly satisfied. One group wants to play funerals – and another wants to play weddings. But then he takes it further with deep, biting irony. This generation is never satisfied, he says. They complain about John the Baptist – his austere life-style; living in the desert, and his diet, locusts and wild honey. He is deluded – he has a demon. So what do they then say about Jesus? Just the reverse: he is glutton and drunkard; a friend of tax collectors and sinners.

You can’t win – you can’t please them, people are fickle. They don’t get it. So it is the government’s fault they haven’t done anything about climate change; but when something is done, that is not fair. A prime minister, or sometimes just a parish minister, may be too hard working and not a person of the people; but if they are too much with the people, they are not hard working enough.

Jesus despairs over his generation. They are just not satisfied. And so Jesus gets annoyed with his generation. Very annoyed. We have him issuing threats, woes, to towns that just did not get the message of Jesus and understand what he was about. Jesus in fact ends up sounding really vindictive towards places like Chorazin, Bethsaida, Tyre, Sidon, Capernaum – it would seem most of the places we associate with Jesus’ ministry in the region of Galilee. I think, however, we all can understand such frustration when we are not understood, or our hard work is not recognised, or people just don’t get it.

And I think in 2008 we can feel very frustrated that around us the signs of a critical time of transition are not being heeded - not just by governments, but it would seem many around us.

Are we taking into account the profound reality of religious diversity; diversity which profoundly and at times threateningly exists within churches as well – as we have this week seen from the Anglican Church?

Are we working through the changing face of global economics - and not simply resenting that other nations and people want to be like us, and have all the stuff of modern life we have; and see that there indeed may be the common good for all – and then realise that many, many, many of our brothers and sisters still are being left behind?

Are we able to see beyond our own needs, and selfish desires and dream of handing on a beautiful, God-given planet to our children and their children?

So as we look around us, we also can understand Jesus’ frustration with his generation about his own life and mission. Jesus, however, did not leave it there – people feeling frustrated and despondent.

So how does Jesus respond to this generation?

There is first an observation (actually a thanksgiving) – and then an offer of help.

The observation simply is that wisdom will be vindicated by her deeds . . . and wisdom is revealed not to the so-called wise and intelligent of the world – the opinion leaders of our time; but amazingly to ‘infants’ – the poor, the marginalised, the tax collectors and outcasts. That same group, perhaps, of which he was critical for their childishness in the village square – do have a certain quality about them: They possess an openness and a profound wonder towards God. God, our destiny, our hope, our future, is not controlled by human brilliance (or the power of stubbornness or selfishness). God really should only be known as a gift of incredible grace – and this is why infants have such a special place. They make no pretence to knowledge; whatever they have is given to them; they are those who do not judge by some pre-conceived criterion. Infants are those who let God be God, on God’s own terms.

Jesus offers, in this passage, thanks – that even in this generation there are those who see life and have different values. They are the infants – not the powerful and the celebrities. They see there are the simple virtues of mutual love and respect for the spiritual which are critical for living life to the full.

And then Jesus offers an invitation: an invitation which is breathtaking in its scope.

Come to me all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me: for I am gentle in heart and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.

Jesus, rather than make demands, or lay ponderous loads on followers, he summons people to a discipleship that is easy and a burden that is light.

This may come as a surprise to us – who as recently as a couple of Sundays ago heard about discipleship being tough, about people being physically threatened. In fact that is what Jesus says to his own disciples in the previous chapter. Remember we thought of those associated with our own congregation who are doing it tough in other parts of the world? And yet here, Jesus promises to take our burdens?

Jesus is, of course, talking about the context of his time where the religious leaders heaped heavy burdens on people; observance of the law and the ritual customs were difficult and onerous. Life was full of don’ts and can’t dos if people wanted that relationship with God. Some of our brothers and sisters still can impose such a religiously motivated burden, but generally modern life creates its own burdens of having the latest, or keeping up with the Jones or whatever. Remember how we started the service – being still amid our busy world. These burdens now, as then, are imposed by human demands. In the face of that Jesus wishes us to move into a realm of a God given joy. He calls this rest – perhaps that Sabbath rest – a time of appreciation of God’s creation, and of God’s wonder and love.

This rest – however, is not just all passivity. There is this beautiful image of being yoked with Jesus. The yoke was the means of joining together two animals – usually oxen to plough to labour in the field. The yoke was carved wood – carved specifically for an individual beast – that would sit comfortably across the shoulders of the ox. This image here is thus both challenging and comforting. We, who are yoked to Jesus in our life – will learn, will learn so much about ourselves, the way of God, the hope and possibilities. There will be still work – you will still be trudging up and down the paddock of life, but there will be a companion to whom you will be yoked. There will not be the burdens the world places on you, and if there are burdens because of our discipleship, those will be shared. Jesus’ yoke is easy; and his burden is light.

Sometimes when we look at our world, or we look at our lives – or even the state of our church – we become overwhelmed. We can indeed understand the denial of this generation and the blame shifting and avoidance we all seem to get into. Let us not, however, beat around the bush – to do that will have its consequences. Wisdom is vindicated by her deeds. . . and like those towns of Jesus’ generation, our own towns, and cities and even nations can come tumbling down. But Jesus offers to us hope – and a way forward. He will carry our burdens, God’s grace will lift those – but we are still to learn and follow the leading of Jesus. Problems may arise – but Christ will be there with us.

This morning we are reminded again that our burdens may be transformed and we can be yoked to Jesus. We gather around our Lord’s table. May we again take the bread and wine as sign that we are yoked in life with Christ, and remember he lifts our burdens, and provides to us rest for our souls.

Peter Duncan’s new film Unfinished Sky is a dramatic thriller about an Afghani refugee (Monica Hendrickx) and an outback Australian Farmer (William McInnes) who have to learn to trust each other to survive.

Special guest Peter Duncan will introduce the film.

Time: 7pm, Tuesday 8 July

Venue: Nova Cinemas, Lygon St, Carlton

Tickets at the door: $20 full/$18 concession