Pentecost 6 A: On Wheat, Weeds, and Ambiguity

Posted by DJL on Jul 14, 2014 in Dear Partner | 25 comments

Dear Partner in Preaching,

If there was ever a parable that helped make the faith we preach on Sunday useful to our people Monday through Saturday, this is probably it. Before jumping into the parable itself, though, I should probably say a word about what I mean by “useful.”

Some, I know, may object to such a pragmatic, even utilitarian word to talk about the faith. After all, shouldn’t we believe just because, well, we should, without seeking any tangible benefit and outcome? Maybe, at least in an ideal world. But one of things I’ve learned both through parish ministry and, more recently, through research on congregational vibrancy is that, in the actual world we live in, the faith needs to be useful – that is, connected to our daily lives.

We live, as you know, with so many choices, so many obligations, so many demands and opportunities that we increasingly must exercise our discretion to wend our way through all these choices with limited time and resources. For this reason, we typically – and increasingly – choose to invest ourselves in those activities and commitments that make a difference. Which is why fewer and fewer people will continue giving an hour a week to church if that hour doesn’t in some way help them make sense of their lives the other 167 hours of the week.

Which is where this parable comes in. At heart, this parable isn’t about the nature of evil and provides little material for constructing a coherent theodicy (if there even is such a thing). Rather, I think this parable is about ambiguity. Yes, the sower planted with good seeds. Yes, there are now weeds strewn among the wheat that puts the ideal harvest the sower had imagined at risk. Ideally, the servants could just rip out the weeds, but the sower knows that to tear out the weeds now risks ruining the maturing wheat as well. And so the sower must wait, living with both the wheat and the weeds until the day of harvest when they may be separated in due time.

How often do we not also face similar dilemmas? If not with wheat and weeds (although there may be a few gardeners in your congregation who sympathize with the sower!), then with a multitude of other difficult choices:
like between getting a job to support the family or staying at home to spend more time with the family;
or between supporting someone who consistently struggles at work and pulls the quality of your team down or firing that person;
or between choosing the best school you’ve been accepted to or one that is more affordable;
or between two different treatment options in responding to a grave illness;
or between staying in your current call where things are comfortable or choosing to move on to newer, but unknown, pastures;
or between giving into peer pressure because it just plain sucks to be left out or choosing to stick to your values and risk isolation;
or….

Do you see what I mean, Dear Partner? Our lives are littered with situations where there is no clear or easy answer. And yet we rarely talk about these things in church. Maybe we don’t know what to say. Or maybe we ourselves aren’t quite sure how the faith relates to this. But I hear in this parable Jesus’ promise that in ambiguous, challenging situations we have the promise that, in the end, God will sort things out.

Which doesn’t mean everything will turn out just fine. Sometimes we don’t choose well. Sometimes things go wrong. The promise here isn’t that Christian faith prevents hardship; the promise is that we are not justified by our right choices but rather by grace through faith. And knowing we have God’s unconditional regard in spite of our poor choices frees us to live in the moment.

The thing is, you see, that we don’t live in an ideal world and each week we’re faced with a myriad of challenging decisions, some small and others large, to which there is no clear answer. Some decisions we’ll get right, others wrong, and still others we won’t know whether we were right or wrong for months or years to come. But we still need to make them. And then, each week, no matter how we fared, we can come back to church on Sunday morning to be reminded that God loves us anyway and promises that, in the end, God will hold all of our choices and all of our lives together in love.

A colleague of mine used to say that in a world colored as ours is by ambiguity, the only absolute was to be found in the absolution. I think those are powerful words, and supply one of the main reasons I go to church: because I want to be able to join with others and acknowledge that life is hard, sometimes really hard, and the choices in front of us are not always clear or easy. But not only do we have the support of the community in making these difficult choices, but no matter how they turn out we can return on Sunday morning and hear again words of absolution, forgiveness, grace, and commissioning as we are sent once again into the world to make difficult choices and compromises as we try to be the people God has called us to be.

So perhaps this week, Dear Partner, after opening up this parable about ambiguity and laying it beside our daily lives, we might ask people to take a few moments to think about some of the difficult choices they’ve made recently or will soon have to make and then close with the confession and absolution with which many congregations begin the service. Or perhaps we could invite a time of silence in which to pray for the choices we and those around us are facing and then close by praying aloud a prayer like this one:

Dear Lord, our lives are colored by ambiguity and we don’t always know the right or best thing to do. But we do know that your love is guiding us and that you have called us to live as your people in the world. When we face hard choices, give us eyes to see the best path forward and the courage to follow it. When we make mistakes, forgive us. When we are hurt by our choices, comfort us. When we hurt others, help us to reach out to them in love. And above and beyond all these decisions, remind us that you still love us and call us back to this place that we may be forgiven, renewed, called, and sent forth once more as your beloved children. In Jesus’ name we pray. Amen.

I think it would be an incredible thing, Dear Partner, if our people came to see church as a place where they could confess the confusion and ambiguity of their lives and find counsel, comfort, and hope as they seek to be the people God has called them to be. Thanks for your help in making church that kind of place. I know it’s not always easy work, but I also know that it is incredibly important world. Blessings on your proclamation.

Yours in Christ,
David

 

PS: I’ve had a question or two since first posting this about reconciling the parable and the explanation. Personally, and if possible, I would read (and preach on) only the parable. Like we saw last week with the parable of the sower, the explanation to this parable also runs in a somewhat different direction than the parable proper. Moreover, in Matthew’s actual story, the parable and its explanation are separated by two “subversive” parables (more on that next week!) and so the lectionary somewhat artificially puts the explanation back to back with the parable, perhaps giving it more force than Matthew intended.