After six years in my house on Saratoga St. I
now mark time by weeding seasons. I
don’t need a calendar to know what time of the year it is. All I have to do is check out the crop of
weeds that is coming up. I have winter
weeds that must be pulled by early spring, spring weeds that make their way up
as soon as the winter weeds are gone, summer weeds that keep coming back every
time it rains, and fall weeds that fill in the beds when everything else is
shutting down. During times of heavy
growth I weed until the trash can is full and then hold off until the next
Tuesday when garbage truck comes by to empty it. As I work in the yard I am mindful of the old
quip that goes weeds always win because they get to bat last. It is summer now, which means crabgrass is
everywhere. The humorist Dave Barry
observed that crabgrass can grow on a bowling ball in an airless room. I don’t doubt that at all.
Weeds play a central role in today’s Gospel
reading. The kingdom of heaven is like a
farmer who sows good seed in a field, but at night the enemy comes and sows
weeds. When the wheat comes up so do the
weeds. What should be done about it? Nothing.
In attempting to pull up the weeds the crop too will be damaged. Best to wait until the harvest to sort it all
out.
That there are “weeds” in this world there
can be no doubt. All you have to do is
take a casual glance at the news to confirm it.
Earlier this week Sally Duncan posted a link
to a New York Times article on the refugee crisis coming out of Honduras. Gang violence there has gotten so bad that
some teachers have to pay a “war tax” in order to be allowed into the school
were they work. The article chronicles the experience of
several Honduran children, including 14-year-old Carlos Baquedano Sánchez. His home is a shack made of corrugated tin in
a neighborhood known as “Little Hell.”
When he was seven he went to work in a dump picking through garbage in
order to find iron and copper to recycle.
He makes only a dollar or two a day, but older boys often beat him to
steal his haul or his pay. Typically,
Carlos goes without food at least two days a week.
He is under
constant pressure to join local gangs and sell drugs. When Carlos was nine he barely escaped two
gangs that tried to rape him while terrified neighbors looked on. He has known eight people who were murdered
and seen three people killed right in front of him. He dreams of being an engineer or mechanic, but
quit school after the sixth grade because he was too afraid to go there. Carlos told the reporter that “a lot of kids
know what can happen in school. So they
leave.”
The
Episcopal Church is responding to the crisis of unaccompanied refugee children
crossing our border by offering humanitarian aid through local churches. Children are being fed, clothed, and
sheltered while the legal and political processes play out. I realize this is a sensitive issue that
creates tremendous debate in our country, but even if you hold that these
“illegal immigrants” should be rounded up and put on a bus back to where they
came from, surely as a Christian you support our church’s efforts to make sure
they go with clean clothes and a bag lunch.
Shift
the field from our southern border to Gaza City. Did you know that the Episcopal Church has a
diocese in Jerusalem? Did you know that
the Diocese of Jerusalem maintains a hospital in Gaza City? Even though the hospital has suffered
structural damage from airstrikes, the staff has maintained a round the clock
presence to care for the wounded. Their food,
fuel for generators, and medical supplies are running out. Abigail Nelson, Senior Vice President for
Programs at Episcopal Relief & Development (who I have met at the
conferences I have attended), is quoted in a press release as saying,
“We
are helping our partner in Jerusalem care for those most vulnerable, particularly
the injured and women and children affected by the airstrikes in Gaza. Our assistance will help the hospital provide
life-saving treatment and compassionate aid, and our prayers are with them as
they carry out their work in very difficult conditions.”
The
Bishop of the Diocese of Jerusalem points out that this hospital provides care
to the community regardless of faith or ability to pay, including counseling
support for patients and families severely affected by the violence. He writes, “Civilians exposed to heavy
bombing have been killed, injured, traumatized, in some cases left homeless and
without food.” He also notes that some
children have lost their entire families.
When I read about Malaysia Flight 17 or about
the situations in Honduras and Gaza City the weeds in my own yard don’t seem to
matter much.
Like other parables, the one we read this
morning neatly divides people into one of two groups – children of the kingdom
and children of the evil one. I find
that in life such distinctions are not always so clear. While we can name certain actions as right or
wrong, the person doing the acting is much more complex. The “field” that is them contains a mixture of
wheat and weeds. And if we are born into
this world basically being like an empty field, what grows in us is largely
dependent on the seeds that are sown in us.
We are also influenced by the “fields” around us. It is tough to bring in a clean harvest if
you grow up in a field surrounded by weeds.
Those seeds have a way of spreading.
If you used today’s parable to construct an
ethic for dealing with evil, you would conclude that the best solution is to do
nothing; to let good and evil grow side by side until the final judgment where
God will give to each his or her due.
And while it may be true to the teaching of this particular parable,
that does not strike me as a very good ethic.
It is better to see this parable as a part of
an intricate tapestry created by all the stories and teachings in the
bible. It provides one unique element to
a much broader, fuller, and complete response to evil. I hear it saying that we must be gentle with
sin. Not soft, but gentle. Some in the Christian tradition obsess about
every little sin. They see nothing good
anywhere, but focus only on the bad. They
cannot see the shine through the tarnish.
Those people who approach others in this way, but not themselves, we
call hypocrites. Those people who see
themselves only in this dark light we call tormented. Those people who can live with their own
imperfections and abide with the imperfections of others we call gentle.
I have noticed something about weeding in my beds
over these last few years. As the plants
I put in take hold they begin to spread.
The Black-eyed Susans, for example, have more than doubled the land they
cover. As a result, there is less and
less to weed each year. As I said, being
gentle with sin does not mean being soft on it.
The more you cultivate what is good in your life, the less opportunity
what is bad will have to thrive.
The good Lord continues to work on me,
thankfully. Last Tuesday I met some
friends for dinner in downtown Hampton.
As I walked back to my car I passed a gentleman sitting in a folding
chair outside a restaurant. I said hello
to him and he to me. And then he asked
if I could spare some money for a homeless person. “Not tonight,” I said without breaking stride. “God bless you,” he said as I walked away. “God bless you,” I replied without looking
back.
Several weeks ago we had a young man visit
our church on Sunday morning looking for food and money. He has been here before and, because his
demeanor is somewhat angry and confrontational, he has not been warmly received
– especially by me. Well, on this
particular Sunday he sat on the bench in the Parish Hall and I sat near him to
make sure he behaved himself. At one
point Kitty Quillin sat down next to him, put her arm around him, and said,
“You look like you are having a hard day.”
“I am,” he responded. And
although their conversation was brief, for me it was life-changing. Through her act of kindness, compassion, and
gentleness I realized that I had failed to see the humanity of this
person. He has been back a couple of
times and I have also run in to him around town. I am trying now to engage him as a child
loved by God, not some problem I need to protect this church from.
Back to Hampton. As I walked to my car, I thought about
Kitty’s act and the man I had just passed.
I drove back to where he was sitting, got out of my car, and apologized
for the dismissive way that I treated him.
I told him that he did not deserve that.
I asked how long he had been homeless and he told me a little bit of his
story. I told him a little bit of
mine. I asked if $5 would help and he
gratefully received it. “My name is
Keith,” I told him. “I’m Kevin,” he
responded. “Kevin,” I said, “It is good
to meet you. I will keep you in my
prayers.” “Keith,” he said, “I will pray
for you.” I’ll let all of you decide who
needs prayers more.
I try to be gentle with myself and I hope
this is a helpful witness for you to hear.
I am not at all satisfied with the weeds in the field that is me, but I
can’t begin to describe how grateful I am to have my heart broken open so that
a new crop of compassion and kindness can be sown. None of us is perfect, but I suspect most of
us are trying to be better people – trying to live into the vows we make
through our baptismal covenant with God.
Today’s parable suggests that we should nurture what is good in us and
be gentle with what is not. It is a long
time before the harvest and there is much that is good growing in each one of
us.
