Parable of the Weeds

Wheat, Weeds, and Hope

Matthew 13:24-30

[Jesus] put before them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to someone who sowed good seed in his field, but while everybody was asleep an enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat and then went away. So when the plants came up and bore grain, then the weeds appeared as well. 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, 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.’ ”


Parables leave much to be desired. They are often unclear, leaving us with more doubt than certainty on their meaning. They are evocative, yet simple, using common elements from everyday life. Most parables don’t come with interpretations, which is why I didn’t read the one assigned with this text. Interpretations were often added later, much like the one given for our parable today and they can veer from the parable itself, allegorizing or assigning emphasis in a way that it wasn’t meant to. And so if we take the parable just as it is, we wonder “what is it about”?

Perhaps it's about evil. Even without the interpretation, its not a stretch for someone to read the weeds as bad things and the enemy as the devil. Yet, if its about evil, we don’t really get answers to the questions we might have. Surely it's not as simple as God wasn’t paying attention and the devil saw an opportunity. And nowhere in the parable are we told why evil is still a present force. If anything the parable simply confirms our experience in the world, that evil does in fact exist. We see it, we’ve experienced it, and if we’re honest we’ve likely participated in it, knowingly or unknowingly.

So if the parable isn’t about evil, what else then?

Perhaps it’s about who gets into heaven. Are we wheat or are we weeds? That’s what we really want to know after all: am I going to the barn or the burn pile? But this raises even more questions than the problem of evil. Is it eternally decided that you are a grain of wheat or a weed? How can you know? If you are a weed, is there any way to become wheat or vice versa? Science and gardeners would say no. You can’t plant an onion and get a tomato. So how could that ever be fair? If that's what the parable is about, God seems to be nothing more than an unjust gardener.

Yet, I don’t think that’s what this parable is about either..

More than anything, the parable is about ambiguity, decisions, and hope. The sower had a choice: pull the weeds and risk the wheat, or wait and live with the weeds growing right there beside the wheat. We too live in a world full of good and bad, wheat and weeds. And every month, every week, every day we are faced with decisions where the answers or the right choice isn’t so clear.

The parable exemplifies this more than we English readers realize. The word for “weeds” here does not apply to just any old weed, but rather something more specific. In Greek, the word is zizanion which is a type of weed we call darnel. Darnel looks just like wheat.

Take a look at this picture. Can you tell which is wheat and which is darnel?... When both crops are unripe and green, you can hardly tell the difference between them. When they are ripe, the seed of the darnel becomes darker than the wheat. If one consumes a lot of darnel, it is poisonous, causing awful damage to one’s insides, sometimes resulting in death. It can be a deadly error, mistaking weeds for wheat and yet it can be so hard to tell them apart.

The same is true in our own lives no? It can be so hard to tell the difference between right and wrong, good and bad, the just choice vs the unjust. Yet, we still have to make decisions:

Do I take this new job thats full of potential and uncertainty or do I stay in the life sucking, yet stable job that I’m in now?

Do I help my addict family member and if so how? Money? A place to stay? And yet will my family be safe?

Do I continue treatment that's worse than the disease or do I cut my life short?

Do I go to the school that’s the best or the most affordable?

Do I approach that family member, that friend about what they said or did or do I keep the peace?

Some decisions are harder than others no doubt. And often it’ll take time to know if we made the right choice, if we get to know that at all in this lifetime. What we do know is that we won’t always make the right decisions. As a congregation, in your families, and for yourself, we haven’t and we won’t always get it right. In thinking we are doing something good, we will pull wheat instead of weeds. And just when we think our crop is nothing but darnel, the harvest turns out to be the most beautiful wheat.

The decisions we face are difficult. The promise in this parable isn’t that because of our faith we will always make the right decision; Nor is the promise that our decisions are easier for us than for anyone else. And that's okay… because the truth is we aren't saved by our decisions, but by the grace of Jesus. The promise, then, of this parable is that regardless of our decisions, right and wrong, somehow God will sort it all out in the end.

That’s the hope by which we are saved, as Saint Paul says, meaning we need not fret or worry about every decision we get right or wrong. Instead, we are freed by grace: to live in the moment, to make our reverent best guess, and to trust that the only absolute in this life is the absolution we receive every time we confess when we got it wrong, just like we did today.

I am reminded of one of my favorite poems, one by Boris Novak aptly titled Decisions. He writes,

“Between two words

choose the quieter one.

Between word and silence

choose listening.

Between two books

choose the dustier one.

Between the earth and the sky

choose a bird.

Between two animals

choose the one who needs you more.

Between two children

choose both.

Between the lesser and the bigger evil

choose neither.

Between hope and despair

choose hope:

it will be harder to bear.”

Regardless of what decisions are before you or the ones you’ve already made, do not despair.

Choose hope, trusting not in your own decisions, but in the grace of Jesus, and believing that God will sort it all out in the end, judging not with fairness, but with mercy and love. Amen.

Seeds, Weeds, and Cancel Culture

Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43

He put before them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to someone who sowed good seed in his field; but while everybody was asleep, an enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat, and then went away. So when the plants came up and bore grain, then the weeds appeared as well. 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; 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.’ ”

Then he left the crowds and went into the house. And his disciples approached him, saying, “Explain to us the parable of the weeds of the field.” He answered, “The one who sows the good seed is the Son of Man; the field is the world, and the good seed are the children of the kingdom; the weeds are the children of the evil one, and the enemy who sowed them is the devil; the harvest is the end of the age, and the reapers are angels. Just as the weeds are collected and burned up with fire, so will it be at the end of the age. The Son of Man will send his angels, and they will collect out of his kingdom all causes of sin and all evildoers, and they will throw them into the furnace of fire, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. Then the righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their Father. Let anyone with ears listen!


The beauty of Jesus’ parables is that they continue to speak a surprisingly relevant, timely word to us in this day and age, just as they did for those who heard them the first time around. And if you believe, like I do, that a parable is allowed to – that a parable is even supposed to – generate new meaning in new situations, it seems entirely possible that Jesus’ parable of the weeds and the seeds has something to say to us regarding something Jesus may never have been able to guess about our life in the 21st Century: this new-fangled thing called “Cancel Culture,” I mean.

You know about this, right? This 21st Century, social-media-fueled phenomenon where someone does something or says something that is offensive, if not reprehensible enough, to enough people, with enough power and influence, that said person is “canceled” in whatever way seems fit – or feared – or appropriate – according to the masses. In the words of Jesus’ parable, you might say, the weeds get cancelled – pulled out by their roots and burned up with fire – right where they are.

I have to admit, I’m sort of inclined to “Cancel Culture” sometimes, and I’m not sure how to think about myself because of that, thanks to Jesus’ parable. For example, I didn’t feel bad when I found out that that white woman in Central Park lost her job when video went viral of her, choking her dog while threatening to call the cops on a black man, and using his race against him, in the meantime, all because he asked her to stop breaking the rules. I also felt no small measure of righteous indignation when I saw another white couple had suffered similar consequences – they lost their jobs after being relentlessly shamed on social media – when they called the cops on a black man for writing with chalk on the wall surrounding his very own house. They thought it unlikely, if not impossible, that a person of color could or should live in such a neighborhood.

The owner of GOYA foods was threatened with being “cancelled” just last week for speaking kindly about the President of the United States. Anyone accused or guilty of sexual assault or misconduct in the day and age of the “Me Too” movement is pretty much doomed – just ask Matt Lauer, or Al Franken, or Louis C.K. And the list goes on. You can Google “Cancel Culture Victims” to find more of this sort of thing.

So I wonder … in the words of Jesus’ parable in today’s Gospel … are the words and actions of these people … are these people, themselves … weeds or seeds? And are they worthy of being pulled out or plucked up or called out or canceled in such ways?

Again, my sinful, broken, score-keeping self is inclined toward the former – the weed-pulling, I mean. If someone is so blatantly, obviously, offensively, ignorantly racist, or sexist, or violent, for example, I find some measure of satisfaction to learn that they have suffered some consequence for their words or actions.

And that’s why Jesus’ parable in this morning’s Gospel can be sort of hard to swallow.

See, his disciples want to know about how they should handle this cosmic sort of weeding project Jesus seems to describe. We know – and the disciples finally figure out – that the weeds in Jesus’ story represent sin and evil in the world, and Jesus wants them – and us – to think about those weeds and all they represent – differently than we’re inclined to a lot of the time.

Like is true for me, it seems our first intention, our first temptation, is to determine who is or what are to be considered “weeds” and who is or what are to be considered “good seed.” When we talk about heaven and hell, about the end of time, about the coming of God’s kingdom – our first temptation is to want to be on the right side of it all; to be on the winning team so that we aren’t one of the ones who gets “left behind.”

But this just leads to even greater, scarier temptations: Temptations to point fingers and decide who’s right and who’s wrong. Temptations to make decisions about who’s worthy and who’s not. Temptations to judge – by our own standards – who’s good or bad, who’s saved or damned, who’s forgive-able or not, who’s welcome or not, who’s loved or loveable or whatever … or not.

And we can find examples of it all over the place. In Jesus’ time, it was the Pharisees who did a lot of the finger-pointing. They worried about who was eating what, or who was working on the Sabbath, or who wasn’t following the law to the letter. And based on their worries, they pretended to determine – with very good, faithful intentions, mind you – who should be in and who should be out.

And, whether it’s sexual or political or religious or racially motivated persuasions, we don’t have to look very hard to find instances in our world where people take it upon themselves to make decisions about who should be in and who should be out; again, decisions about pulling weeds from the good seed, as Jesus might put it.

But I hear Jesus drawing a distinction this morning, between what we might relish in the “Cancel Culture” of this day and age and the Kingdom of God in the age to come. In other words, I’m hearing that, while “Cancel Culture” may be a thing on this side of heaven, “Cancelling the Kingdom” may not be ours to claim on the other side of it all.

What I hear in Jesus’ parable is that there are too many of us choosing not to grow alongside too many others. And I believe Jesus is challenging us with this parable, to remember that the “Cancel Culture” we have come to know might not be our work to do; our garden to tend; our Kingdom to cultivate, all by ourselves.

Whether we do it out of fear or out of love… out of genuine concern or out of ignorance… with all the Biblical scholarship and well-reasoned theology or not, Jesus tells us that this sort of thing is not our job, when it comes to the Kingdom of God. Jesus tells us he is the one – “The Son of Man will send his angels” he says, and then “at the end of the age.” What that means to me is we’re to leave the weed pulling, the weeping and the gnashing of teeth, for another time.

Instead, Jesus teaches, with this parable, that now is the time for something altogether different. Now is a time for planting good seeds of promise, of hope, of reconciliation, and of love. Now is a time for growing together. Now is a time for growing alongside. Now is a time for being the good seed that grows and bears fruit in spite of – and in the face of – whatever weeds might threaten or challenge or scare us along the way.

Please don’t get me wrong. I’m not suggesting we “live and let live” to the point that the weeds of sexual assault and racism, discrimination and injustice are given a pass for the sake of “going along and getting along.” I’m suggesting – and I’m hopeful – that the good seeds of justice and love and grace, the good seeds of mercy and forgiveness and transformation, can grow boldly and bravely and faithfully alongside all of those weeds – in spite of all of those weeds – and until all of those weeds – are transformed, themselves, to bear fruit worthy of God’s Kingdom “on earth as it is in heaven.”

That is hard, holy work for sure. And some of us – people of privilege, mostly – have some heavy lifting to do, in this regard.

If the weed is racism, those who benefit from racist systems have some growing alongside to do with those who take advantage of their status and privilege.

If the weed is sexism, good men in our culture have some growing alongside to do with those who take perpetrate injustices against women.

If the weed is poverty, those of us with means have some growing alongside to do with those who take advantage of those who are poorer than others.

And this “growing alongside” is hard and holy because it looks like humility and repentance and forgiveness and persistence. And it is God’s call to the Church, because it is much more Christ-like than all of the world’s weeping and gnashing of teeth. And it’s harder, frankly, than the “Cancel Culture” that surrounds us so much of the time. It’s harder to “grow alongside” and to bear fruit among the weeds, trusting that God’s way of grace will win the day. But I believe it will, in the end, for the sake of the world. I believe we can do this work precisely because God’s grace has – already – won the day, through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, our Lord.

Amen