Genesis 28:10-19a and Psalm 139:1-12, 23-24 | Wisdom of Solomon 12:13, 16-19 orIsaiah 44:6-8 and Psalm 86:11-17 | Romans 8:12-25 | Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43
I am often focused on the fiery judgment in these different sayings, wondering how I might get around talking about the burning bundles and the weeping and gnashing of teeth. Perhaps this is a product of the tradition in which I grew up, with a deep focus on the judgment day, knowing whose you are, and being certain of where you’re going when you die.
Then I realized that, in the parable itself, this fiery judgment portion which occupies so much of my anxiety in reading it, only takes up about 1/3 of the last sentence in the whole parable. If we take Jesus’ explanation to be a serious answer to the disciples’ confusion, rather than a facetious explanation with a knowing “Let anyone with ears listen!” at the end, the focus on the final judgment in the explanation far outweighs its appearance in the parable itself. But whatever the case may be, the parable and the explanation are clear on the identity of the only qualified judge.
The parable itself seems to focus entirely on our response to the presence of good and bad, wheat and weeds, in the same field – on this question of judgment and who gets to make the judgment.
We are notoriously bad at judgment, and this is no accident. The householder in this parable understands that weakness and refuses to allow that poor judgment to exert its tyranny over the field. The householder knows this deep deficiency in human creatures, this inability to judge rightly, because it goes back to our beginning in the garden.
Recall the thing that causes the so-called “Fall” in the Garden of Eden. Perhaps you have been taught, as I have, that it is ultimately disobedience that caused the Fall. Maybe that’s part of it, but there is more to it than that. It is about a desire to be “like God.” This is the temptation the serpent presents to Adam and Eve. Eat from the tree of the knowledge of Good and Evil, and you will be like God.
German theologian and martyr Dietrich Bonhoeffer writes beautifully about this in his book, Creation and Fall. Prior to their temptation and disobedience, Adam and Eve enjoyed a life rightly ordered before their Creator. As creatures, they were fully dependent on the Creator, and they lived fully in that dependence with the freedom and abandon of children. Bonhoeffer says, “Adam knows neither what good nor what evil is and lives in the strictest sense beyond good and evil; that is, Adam lives out of the life that comes from God…” For Adam, there is no “good or evil” decision to be made; there is only God and that care given to Adam as a creature fully free of the anxiety of judgment between good and evil, of making the right choice, of harming or blessing.
We often think of this judgment between good or bad, making moral choices, as part of what it means to be human beings, to have free will. Bonhoeffer does not think so. Rather, he thinks this judgment between good and evil is reserved only for God, the Judge. As I understand him, he sees the anxiety that comes from having to constantly discern between good and evil as a result of the fall, of human beings’ desire to trespass – to transgress the limits of being a creature and become like the Creator, knowing good and evil, rather than resting in the provision of the Creator who calls even goodness into being.
If this seems up in the clouds, Jesus pulls it back into the soil with this parable. He is drawing our attention to the earliest transgression of humankind: our desire to do what only God can do – judge between good and evil from our creaturely point of view. Recall the conversation between the slaves and the householder, “And the slaves of the householder came and said to him, “Master, did you not sow good seed in your field? Where, then, did these weeds come from?” He answered, “An enemy has done this. The slaves said to him, “Then do you want us to go and gather them?” But he replied, “No; for in gathering the weeds you would uproot the wheat along with them. Let both of them grow together until the harvest;”
The slaves are ready to act; they want to take care of the problem, pick out the weeds from the wheat, and keep the good. But this is not easy to discern, even impossible without doing severe damage, and Jesus’ parable illuminates the difficulty of judgment. The term he uses for “weeds” is a specific term for a plant called Darnell, or False Wheat that grows in that region and thrives alongside wheat. If you look at a picture of it, you’ll see that the plants look very similar, especially as they’re growing. They’re only more easily discerned once they have matured, at the harvest. So, the Housekeeper knows that this hasty attempt to pull weeds that are similar to the good seed will result in damage of the good.
They do not possess the judgment to make this call, and they will do more damage with their attempts at judging good from bad! Robert Capon, says this about the impulse to jump the gun and make the judgment on our own, even if we do it in the name of goodness: “Goodness itself…if it is sufficiently committed to plausible, right-handed, strong-arm methods, will in the very name of goodness do all and more than all that evil ever had in mind.” How many terrible and damaging things are done in the name of goodness, in the name of right judgement, or sound, calculated reason?
What is left for us to do, then? What is the role of the church in the presence of a world mingled with evil if not to help eradicate evil by force, strong-armed and uprooting all we judge to be an aberration? Is it not a terrible farming practice to leave weeds to choke out the good plants?
The simple phrase “let both of them grow together” is packed with meaning not evident in the English translation. It simply suggests permission – “let this happen.” But the word we simply translate as “let” is also the word we translate “forgive” – “Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.” This is the same word, and it is the imperative – the command – in this verse. “Forgive them, pardon them, permit them to grow together until the harvest.” They will be known at the harvest by the fruit they produce.
It is not an easy thing for the church to be counseled to forgive, to be long-suffering, to be patient. We live in a fast-paced world with expectations of efficiency and ruthless weeding. The church has done quite a bit of damage in picking up the mantle of judgment and taking upon itself the role of the Creator, rather than allowing the harvest to grow and bear its fruit for the Lord of the Household to collect and sort. Yet the church has the opportunity to bear good fruit among the weeds – the fruit of patience, humility, forgiveness, and long-suffering. Each of these bear witness to a kingdom alternative, a witness and harvest that finally stands in contrast to a world full of weeds.
This kind of witness is only evidenced by the radical patience and forgiveness and forbearance, like that displayed in the Amish communities after suffering violent tragedy. There is more than one instance where family members of victims in the Amish community surround the perpetrators and families with forgiveness and support. No one can say this approach does not take evil seriously; indeed, it takes it so seriously that it confronts the presence of evil on completely different terms as it attempts to neutralize it and witness against its charade of power by alternative means. Patience and forgiveness do not ignore evil; rather it is a witness to and alternative and against a world enslaved to the terms set by the enemy who sows evil.
As human creatures, our haste to take up the mantle of the Creator and make judgments – judgments reserved for the Creator – is on full display in Christ and him crucified. As creatures, we bore the burden and mantle of judgment we took up at our fall in the garden, and in our incapacity to judge, we judged the Christ the Creator as though he were evil. This is what is revealed in the crucifixion – our cavernous inability to judge rightly. That which is wheat, the Bread of Life, given as life for the world, is pulled up like a weed by human haste and hubris.
Yet even in the midst of our poor judgment, Christ enacts the patience of the Kingdom, speaking forgiveness from the cross as the Judge who is enduring our judgements devoid of justice. Yet in the face of our evil, growing up as wheat among the weeds, the humble Messiah continues to produce fruit worthy of his Kingdom, forgiving his enemies and enduring evil for the sake of the harvest.