Wheat and Weeds
A sermon by Currie Burris
Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43
July 24, 2005
Jesus loved to tell stories. He used stories, events and experiences of everyday life to teach about God and the way of God in the world. He used images and lessons that everyone could relate to, to show them what God is like and how to live. His stories are called parables. We know that Jesus was the son of a carpenter, and probably was trained to be a carpenter like Joseph, but you notice that none of his parables are about house building and woodworking. Like the parable in today’s lesson, many of his stories are about farming, trees and growing things, seeds and produce, nurturing and harvesting. He must have spent a lot of time in the fields. He knew about plants.
In this parable, Jesus talks about a farmer who plants his field with good seed. But in the night, an enemy comes and sows weed seed in his field. Interestingly, this attack is not noticed right away. We learn that when the wheat sprouts and forms heads, then the servants notice the weeds are growing next to the wheat. Wheat is a kind of grass and that for most of its life it looks just like tall grass. In the Middle East where Jesus lived, there is a type of grass that looks just like wheat. It will grow right among the wheat shoots and never be detected, that is until the heads form on the wheat. This other grass will never form heads, will never produce a crop. It is a weed.
The farmer’s servants report the presence of the weeds and ask if they should pull them up. But the wise farmer knows that pulling up the weeds, growing so close to the wheat, would disturb their roots, and possibly pull up wheat along with the weeds. And some of the plants, which look like weeds now, might in fact be immature or late forming wheat. Much more damage could be done in pulling the weeds than in leaving them alone. The time for judgment will be at harvest time. The wheat will be separated from the weeds, and weeds thrown into the fire and destroyed.
Our church, Silver Spring Presbyterian Church, is the only church I know that has its own garden. For over 18 years, we have had a garden here on our property with members growing fruits and vegetables for their own use and to give away to people in need. We are having a great crop this year – tomatoes, corn, peppers, squash, pumpkins, greens.
In talking to some of the folks tending the garden, I know there is some controversy already about this bounty. What some are calling weeds and pulling up, others recognize as vegetable and okra. Some plants, that are choking other plants for some farmers, hold the promise of bounty for others. We will see how it works out come harvest time in the fall.
Jesus said a farmer’s field is like the world, all the world – our personal life, the church, the life of the community, and the rest of the world. It is full of wheat and weeds. There are people in this world who are good and productive, who make a contribution in this life, and people who just don’t fit in, who are a drag on everything and everybody. You know who they are. They are the ones that irritate and annoy you; the ones you wish would just go away. They are the ones who don’t act right, don’t respect and honor what is right. It’s the daughter-in-law who comes from the wrong part of the country, the wrong family. It’s the mother-in-law who dominates and judges. It’s the girl in school who torments and teases. It’s the neighbor who makes too much noise or won’t clean his yard. It’s the person who works on your floor who is out to get you. We want to pull some weeds from our life that are choking and stifling us.
The church is often the place we wish to do some weeding. There are some people who just don’t fit in. They don’t believe right. They don’t make a contribution. They don’t carry their weight in the support of the church. They don’t pay their pledge. They never volunteer in the nursery. They come late and leave early. They are names on a list but they are never a voice in the choir. They are never a teacher in Sunday School. They never serve on a committee. They put a dollar in the plate as it passes, but never a tithe. They always have something to complain about. Sometimes it feels like we just need to clean the roles.
Fred Craddock, a pastor in northern Georgia, tells the story of a preacher friend of his who came to him one day and said, “I quit. I’m getting out.” This preacher was the pastor of the largest church in town, but he said it was full of problems. People bickering and back biting, people complaining about the service, complaining about his sermons, fussing in session meetings, huddling in the parking lot after service, eyeing others they don’t like and wishing they would leave. People spreading rumors and gossip. He said, “I’m going to leave. I’m going to buy a little piece of land over in Arkansas, and going to build my own church. There’s going to be a study where I can do my work, and the church will have a beautiful tall spire, and that will be it. No sanctuary, no Sunday School rooms, no fellowship hall, no members. Just me and God.” You start pulling weeds, says Jesus, you just might not know when to stop. You might not be able to tell the wheat from the weeds. There may be no garden left.
And that is really the problem, isn’t it. How can you really tell them apart? You look down the membership roles of the church, and see many names you don’t recognize. When was the last time that person was in worship? You see a dollar placed in the plate and wonder “Is that all they are giving?” And yet I know there are many folks who come to worship almost every Sunday for many years, and yet no one seem to know their names. No one it seems has bothered to find out who they are. There are some who give their tithe the first Sunday of the month, or even in a single check at the beginning of the year, and yet who will not let the plate pass them without putting something in, no matter how small. There is one member who has not been able to attend in years, and yet faithfully sends her pledge in every month. Another who has not actually joined our church for personal reasons, but who is the strongest “member” we have. There is another who has no income, who cannot put much into the plate, but who prays regularly and faithfully for this ministry, and for all.
The difference between wheat and weeds is not measured in what we see or the judgments we make. It is not marked by whether they are the right kind of people, believe the right kind of theology, or come from the right family or country. It is not based on how well they like me, or support me, or do what I think they should be doing. The difference between wheat and weeds is only in the eyes of God. God will judge. God will separate out the heart of faith of the good seed and the bad. Once you and I start weeding, there is no telling how wrong we can be, or how much damage we can do, who we will hurt and who will be thrown away.
On top of that, there is an important difference in the way real wheat fields grow and the way God’s fields grow. In a real wheat field, wheat is always wheat, and weeds are always weeds, no matter what they look like while they are growing. But in God’s fields, what looks like weeds today, can become wheat tomorrow. It can be a weed today, crowding out, sucking dry, draining water and stealing nutrients from the wheat today. But when the harvest time comes, it can change. It can bring forth real fruit, if you believe in God. That can’t happen you say. But with God, anything can happen—anyone can change.
Fred Craddock tells another story of wheat and weeds, of being one thing and becoming another. You know what greyhounds are. They are a species of dog, bred for racing. They are tall and thin and they can run very fast. I have been to a dog race once. About a dozen of these greyhounds bound out of the starting gate when they see a mechanical rabbit shoot out before them, and they chase it around the track. The dogs exhaust themselves chasing this illusory bait. When they get too old to race, the dogs are offered for adoption, and if no one wants them, they are destroyed.
Craddock said he had a niece who couldn’t stand the idea of these dogs being destroyed, so she adopted several of them. He went to her house once, and saw a big greyhound lying peacefully on the living room floor. One of the small children was pulling its tail; another child had its head on the dog’s stomach using it for a pillow. The dog seemed very happy. Craddock said to the dog “Are you still racing?”
“No, no” said the dog “I don’t race anymore.”
“Do you miss the glitter and excitement of the track?”
“No” he replied.”
“Well, what was the matter? Did you get too old to race?”
“No, I still had some race in me.”
“Well, what then? Did you not win?”
“I won over a million dollars for my owner.”
“Well, what was it — bad treatment?”
“No” the dog said. “They treated us royally while we were racing.”
“Did you get crippled?”
“No”
“Why then?”
“I quit”
“Why did you quit?”
“I discovered that what I was chasing was not really a rabbit, and I quit.” He looked at me and said, “All that running and running, and running and running, and what was I chasing? It was not even real.” *
A whole new life, just like that. With God, that’s what we have. In God’s field, in God’s life, in God’s eyes, we have whole new life. Weeds into wheat. Enemy into friend. From threat of the fire to the harvest home, from death to life. With God we all have new life. This is the true harvest. Thanks be to God.
-----------------------------------------------------
* Fred Craddock, The Cherry Log Sermons, p. 29-30