This is a reflection i will deliver at church this morning. These are the readings .
“The Spirit comes to the aid of our weakness”. May the Spirit bless this attempt to say something.
The parable of the weeds and the wheat seems to me to be a very relevant one for our time. We live in a society that seems intent on punishing people we deem weeds, without worrying too much about the incidental damage to any wheat in the equation. Many examples spring into my mind, but two in particular, because the newspapers whip up fear and hatred for these groups of people almost daily. The first is the fear of “terrorists” and the willingness to exclude and imprison all refugees in order to protect ourselves from some terrorists who may or may not be in the mix. The second is the assertion that many or most welfare recipients are cynically milking the system for money while neglecting their children. As someone who lives mainly among welfare recipients (and yes some of them are very troubled people, especially after years of hardship and broken hopes) I feel pain and despair at the hatred and judgement currently being directed against people who have the same desires as any of us, to give their children an education and to live life connected to other people.
It’s interesting that the gospel makes no mention of proportions of wheat to weeds. I’ve generally assumed that the weeds that contaminate the field are in the minority, that most of the field is wheat, but we do not know that. Either way it is not for us to try to judge, sanction or weed out the “bad people” in a group we are nurturing- we simply nurture and God does any sifting that is necessary- after the event. I wonder how many people who appear to be weeds, become wheat given enough nurture?
I wonder if I have started to look like wheat yet, for I surely was weed for most of my life.
Taking the same metaphor and bringing it closer in, each of us is also not purely wheat, or purely weeds but a complicated, impossible to unravel mix of both. Often we have been encouraged to be self-critical and try to “weed out” of ourselves any sins, impurities, smallness of heart or lack of faith. Often I despair that I work so hard to be a better person and all I get is compassion fatigue, or the mesmerising complexity of a world where I simply don’t know what is safe to believe or want or do.
What if I stop trying to “weed out” the parts of myself that I think are flawed or unacceptable and trust God that she has planted beautiful golden wheat in there, grains destined to become bread of life, along with Christ. God insists that there is something wholesome and good in me and you, something that can generously feed the world with beauty and truth. Sure there are weeds there too (once again we don’t know the specific proportion in each of us) but my job is to nurture the good and trust in it, and let God eventually sort the rest if it needs to be sorted. That’s not a cop out. If I believe in the wheat of myself then I will act out of the generosity of the swelling grain- I will know that I am not depleted when I love and trust other human beings and seek a gentler, more compassionate world.
The kindom of God is not to be found in the act of judging and weeding, of keeping out unworthy types and outsiders. It is the tiniest mustard seed of possibility inside each of us. Mustard when it grows is a tenacious bush, even a weed- it gets into everything and the same birds that nest in it scatter the seeds far and wide. When I see a person who appears to my limited and prejudiced view to be a weed, then perhaps all the understanding I can summon up within myself is also tiny and insignificant like a mustard seed.
With God’s grace in my life, my mustard seed version of God’s love can grow into a real involvement in the lives of my neighbours, a genuine commitment to their well-being without patronage…the seeds spread also into their life, people can be transformed. As with a mustard plant we have little control of the process- growing things requires a measure of faith and hope.
My sister is a baker so I love Jesus’ third metaphor. I also have many memories of my mother staying up all night to bake bread. With her sourdough she made her own yeast, leftover from the previous batch of bread. It looked flaky and unassuming. In the same way the small generosity we can have toward each other can be small and initially almost powerless- maybe only the power of recognition to begin with.
This recognition is grounded in God’s great recognition of the wheat within us, the growth toward loving-kindness. Small and unassuming like yeast it begins, touching the flat, basic wheat and water of another person’s life; thus it swells into loaves. The bread of life.
It would be easy to focus on what we as individuals or as a society ought to do better. There is a place for critical reflection and for seeking to improve how we relate. But perhaps the call today is a more difficult one. Perhaps we can sit and become aware of the wholesome wheat that we are- in some significant proportion, each of us within ourselves. Forget the weeds for now, forget how you think you could or should be better and be joyful to be God’s wheat for a hungry world. Try to feel the joy of this being and ripening.
Then, when you are ready, I invite you to briefly share your own perspectives with the people sitting nearby.