Sermon: Eighth Sunday after Pentecost, Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43, July 23, 2023 Faith-La Fe Lutheran Church, Pastor Jonathan Linman

Sermon: Eighth Sunday after Pentecost, Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43, July 23, 2023

Faith-La Fe Lutheran Church, Pastor Jonathan Linman

We have before us a wonderful parable from Matthew’s Gospel, that of the weeds among the wheat, one of my favorites. In the servants' query about whether or not the Master might want them to pull out the weeds that had been sown among the wheat, the Master offers this punch line: "No, for in gathering the weeds you would uproot the wheat along with them. Let both of them grow together until the harvest..."

I suppose this makes sense from a certain point of view. You don't want to endanger the wheat by inadvertently ripping it up along with the weeds.  Having done a bit of gardening in my day I have known that danger firsthand – inevitably some of the flowers get pulled up along with the weeds, especially as they are all tangled together when they are fully grown.

But letting the weeds grow together with the wheat persists in being counter-intuitive in other ways, as we know that this is not a story about gardening, but about the dominion of God. The first impulse is to get rid of the weeds, lest they sully the divinely intended plantings. The parable says, no, let both wheat and weed grow together until harvest time.

But before we stop with this punch line, the parable raises still other issues for us as we let the parable evoke and call forth other implications (and parables at their best and on their own are quite expansive in the meanings that may emerge...).

One possible implication is this: sometimes it's difficult to tell the difference between weeds and desired plants. I think of the child's delight in dandelions, both in their brilliant yellow color and when they've gone to seed. (Are there dandelions in Phoenix, by the way?) The child sees beauty and wonder. The adult whose job it is to keep the lawn pure goes ballistic when the child in their delight blows the seeds all over the yard...  Which is it?  Dandelion as weed or flower?  (Or potential harvest when you might make some wine or salad from dandelions?)  It clearly depends on your perspective.

Then there's the artichoke. I grew up in a part of the country where we didn't do a whole lot with artichokes (maybe at most an artichoke heart that is canned made into a dip...). It wasn't until much later in life that I've seen what can really be done with artichokes. Boil them up, dip them in butter or mayonnaise, getting the little bit of meat working your way through the thing until you find its heart. A compelling appetizer for some.

I'm not entirely convinced, because an artichoke requires such hard work. Moreover, when I saw for the first time artichokes growing in their natural habitat, I had to ask myself: why do you want to eat a thistle?

So, the difference between wheat and weed may well be a matter of perspective. In fact, there is nothing intrinsic about a weed that makes it a weed. The dictionary definition of a weed is this: “generally a wild plant growing where it is not valued or wanted and is in competition with cultivated, desired plants.” We know well that what is valued or desired can be quite subjective.

Again, the parable says let both wheat and weed grow together until the harvest: "and at harvest time I will tell the reapers, ‘Collect the weeds first and bind them in bundles to be burned, but gather the wheat into my barn.’"

Furthermore, according to the explanation of the parable, we are not the reapers, the angels of the Son of Man are. We may claim to have an idea about what is wheat and what is a weed, but it's not our job to do the harvesting. We are not the ones to gather one from the other, storing one in the barn, burning the other. 

You can fill in the blanks about what this means in your faith journey and in the life of our world. Suffice it to say that we humans have a tragic and deadly tendency to designate others as mere weeds.  We may think these other people are weeds worthy of the fire, but in all humility, that's where it should end. God will sort it all out when there’s an accounting on the last day...

Note also what this parable does to our first inclinations. The servants are anxious to pull up the weeds among the wheat.  You can hear the anxiety in the text: "Master, did you not sow good seed in your field? Where, then, did these weeds come from?” The Master replies, “An enemy has done this.” The servants said to him, “Then do you want us to go and gather them?"  It's dripping with anxious eagerness to get rid of the weeds.  The answer persists, “No, relax, settle down. It will all get sorted out.”

From the perspective of the dominion of God, there is complete confidence that the wheat will prevail. There are no worries about whether or not there will be a good harvest. We hear this kind of confidence in the word of the Lord recounted by Isaiah: “Do not fear, or be afraid; have I not told you from of old and declared it? You are my witnesses! Is there besides me any other deity? There is no other rock; I know not one.” (Isaiah 44:8) In this divine confidence, we can settle down and relax. The wheat will not get choked out by the weeds. God’s promise is that straightforward.

But this is not the attitude in much of today’s church and world where there is such anxiety and indeed enthusiasm for rooting out perceived evil weeds.  There are so many concerns today about religious and political purity – ‘we must not have any weeds among our fine wheat.’ 

If we deem one a weed, we may try to root them out by denying them communion or prohibiting baptism, proclaiming them heretics, excommunicating them, condemning them to the fires of hell, etc. And we may deem the perceived weeds as less than human. We see this in spades with all of the energy demonizing the LGTBQIA+ communities. And the racist hatred of those with darker skin tones. Democrats demonizing Republicans and vice versa. And more and more all around us.

But a community built around the values and attitudes of the dominion of God reflected in this parable has no room for such preoccupations with purity and anxious desire to get rid of the perceived evil: "Let both the wheat and the weeds grow together until the harvest."

According to the parable, the dominion of God is a messy reality full of wheat and perceived weeds, entangled all together, growing toward harvest. That’s what Lutherans means when we acknowledge that we humans are simultaneously saints and sinners. Thus, why can't we then relax together in our conflicted differences? And just let it be?  There will be a harvest. The wheat will prevail.

And at harvest time we may be surprised to learn who is wheat and who is weed, or what aspects of ourselves are wheat and weed (since our ability to discern this has been compromised by our sinful brokenness and shortsightedness...). The Son of Man through his angels will separate it all out and take care of it. So relax. Let it be.

And if we can just relax and take ourselves a bit less seriously, then maybe we can come to see the thistle artichoke as something delicious. If we can let the wheat and weed dwell together, then maybe we can return to childlike delight in seeing dandelions as wondrous things, brilliantly yellow, curiously odd in how they go to seed. From the perspective of the teaching about the dominion of God reflected in this parable of the weeds among the wheat, maybe we can come to the point of delighting in each other whom we might otherwise consider weeds, and even come to enjoy this garden that is not pure, but nonetheless lush and full of growth and beautiful surprises. 

That the church may faithfully, authentically, boldly and convincingly bear witness to the dominion of God (and this is our central calling), let it be so. Let it be, that we may we peacefully co-exist, wheat and weeds together, until the last day, the harvest time, when the "righteous will shine like the sun in the dominion of their Father."

And we get a taste of that harvest each time we gather at this table – a table open to all comers, anyone who feels drawn to this meal of grace – where we taste of the wheat of God who is Jesus Christ himself, made known to us in the breaking of the bread.

At this table of grace, we taste the reality of our promised future, the basis of our hope. As Paul says it in his letter to the church at Rome which we also heard today: “I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory about to be revealed to us. For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the children of God…” (Romans 8:18-19)

Thus, we leave this harvest table to go back into a world filled with wheat and weeds, letting it all be sustained by our loving words and deeds, as we wait patiently in hope, but with eager longing for that final day when Christ will offer up an abundant harvest for all, a harvest to which all by God’s grace are welcome. Let us who have been given ears listen and yearn for the glory that will be revealed to us… Amen.