Sermon on Matthew 13:31-33, 44-52

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

“Tell all the truth but tell it slant” says Emily Dickinson in one of her poems.

“The kingdom of heaven is like…” says Jesus.

This week, we have more of Jesus’ parables in Matthew chapter 13. This chapter has no less than seven parables about the kingdom of heaven, God’s Beloved Community that Jesus is working to spread on earth. Our reading today contains five of them.

Why so many parables?

In chapter 12, people just aren’t getting it. Some are trying to cancel Jesus for doing things on the sabbath, and others are accusing him of getting his authority from evil sources.

Even after the sermon on the mount and all of the people Jesus has been healing, people are still suspicious of him.

They aren’t responding to the good news as good news.

They’re getting sidetracked, distracted by petty arguments and litmus tests, instead of imagining what Jesus is trying to create.

So what does Jesus do? He tells the truth, but tells it slant.

He tells stories, parables specifically.

Jesus’ parables don’t generally wrap up neatly with a moral at the end telling us exactly what we’re supposed to get out of them.

They’re more like puzzles—puzzles that don’t have a tidy solution.

Instead of solving them, we sit with them, let their details wash over us, turn them over and over looking at them from different angles, running our fingers over the rough edges and sharp turns.

Why a mustard seed, when surely a towering cedar would be a much more impressive shelter for the birds of the air?

Why is this woman making bread with fifty pounds of flour? Who are the hundreds of people she can feed with all that bread?

Why would a pearl merchant sell everything to get a single pearl, however flawless? Not a very sound business decision…

I don’t have answers to these questions. That’s part of the beauty of parables. We can spend the rest of our lives plumbing their depths. Just when we think we have answers, they twist, and we see something new.

Jesus tells the truth, but tells it slant. We humans can’t fully grasp the concept of the Beloved Community. It’s a truth too big to fit into words.It’s too much for our limited comprehension. So, Jesus tells stories instead of giving us schematics.

I won’t pretend to have solved these parables as if they’re crossword puzzles. But here are threethings about these parables that I’ve noticed and learned from scholars this week:

1.    First, the Beloved Community starts small and grows beyond imagining.

We see in the parable of the mustard seed and the parable of the yeast that something tiny (whether a seed or yeast) grows into something huge that provides shelter or nourishment for others.

I’ve always felt like cooking and baking is close to magic. If you’ve ever watched sugar and water bubble into golden caramel on the stove or set aside a tiny, lumpy ball of dough and come back to a smooth, fluffy bowl filled to the brim, it’s pretty miraculous.

Gardening is similar, especially gratifyingly fast growers like sunflowers. Every time you turn around they’re a little taller, and soon their golden crowns are blooming, and it doesn’t seem possible that they came from a seed smaller than your fingernail.

The kingdom of heaven is like that.

2.    A second noticing is that the Beloved Community is worth giving everything for.

The person who found treasure in a field and the pearl merchant both sold everything they had to obtain what they wanted.

There’s a sense of urgency in both of these parables. Once the characters have found what they’re looking for, they can’t wait until they have it for themselves. It’s worth giving up every penny, every possession.

The kingdom of heaven is like that.

3.    A third noticing is that the Beloved Community is surprising, counterintuitive, and maybe even illogical.

The characters in those parables about the field and the pearl sold everything they hadin order to get their treasures. But it doesn’t make much worldly sense to do that. Perhaps the character who bought the field can sell the treasure fast enough to get money to provide for his needs, but if not, where is he going to sleep?

And if the pearl merchant doesn’t sell the pearl right away for a greater profit, what was the point of buying it? What’s he going to eat until then?

Perhaps there’s a mustard tree in the field the character bought, and he can sleep under it.

And perhaps the woman who made all that bread will share a loaf with the merchant.

But one way or another, this all-in approach doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, unless there’s something bigger at work here. It just doesn’t make sense financially or logically. It goes against the way the world normally works.

The kingdom of heaven is like that.

Butfor us, just as for Jesus’ early followers, it’s hard to imagine what could be worth going to such extreme, illogical lengths.

There are wars and disease and natural disasters and injustices to contend with. Surely, “every man for himself” is a more practical, if rather cold, philosophy.

And plenty of communes and intentional communities that have experimented with living in a counter-cultural, mutual wayhave started out strong, but have dissolved as challenges arose.

Sometimes the troubles of this world seem overpowering, like the only truth is that life is hard and those who don’t approach life either as a self-sufficient tower defending against the world or a tank ready to crush everything in their path aren’t going to make it in this cruel world.

But Jesus offers something different.

He offers truths, told slant, because that’s the only way they can be understood over the thunder of “every man for himself.”

He offers stories, because that’s the only way we slow down enough to set down our shields and our weapons.

These stories give us only glimpses of the counterintuitive Beloved Community.

And still, glimpses are all God needs to start sowing the good news into our hearts.

The Holy Spirit helps those seeds grow in both our hearts and our lives until one day when the Beloved Community will be a tree with enough branches for everyone to have a nest.

First Lutheran practiced looking for glimpses of the Beloved Community when we did our Where do you see God? activity during the Easter season. We watched for moments when we noticed God present in our lives and shared them with each other.

The parables are like that—they help us notice glimpses of the Beloved Community showing up in the world.

Glimpses like when someone asks for help, and an avalanche of people show up.

Or when something is so beautiful it takes your breath away.

Or when someone does something so generous, it’s kind of embarrassing.

We may only get glimpses of the Beloved Community, but we don’t have to wait for them to come to us. We can follow the Spirit and create our own glimpses.

After all, with God’s help, the tiniest seeds grow into trees large enough to shelter a multitude.

The kingdom of heaven is like that.

First Lutheran Church

July 23, 2023 + Pentecost 8A

Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43 + [Jesus] put before [the crowds] 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 Parable of the Wheat and Tares”

Pastor Greg Ronning

Last Sunday we heard the “Parable of the Sower.”  A story about sowing the seeds of the Gospel on a hard path, on rocky soil, in the midst of thorns, and finally good soil.  Next Sunday we will hear a series of parables about the Kingdom of Heaven, including the “Parable of the Mustard Seed,” the smallest of seeds which grows into the greatest of shrubs providing a place for the birds to build their nests.  This Sunday we hear the “Parable of the Wheat and Tares,” a story about a field filled with both good seeds and bad seeds, wheat and weeds, and the dilemma of what to do about it.  A story that reminds me of my garden at home, - more on that later!

So, what’s this parable all about? Let’s begin with an overview of the story.  The context of the parable is a “field” in which a farmer sowed good seed, but an enemy snuck in and sowed bad seed.  And suddenly the field contains both “Wheat” and “Tares” or “weeds.”

“And that’s just the way it is.”  This parable is not about identifying the “enemy,” it does not invite us into endless speculation regarding the problem of evil in our world, the parable is not “all about” figuring out what happened or why.  No, it just describes the field.  And it’s a familiar field, farmers know that, we know that, - weeds just happen, they did back then and they continue to do so now.  That’s life.  Life is filled with both good and bad things.  And we can decide to spend lots of time wondering and worrying “why,” or we can figure out what to do, how to live, how to be faithful, how to move forward, in the midst of the situation, the human condition.  The parable reminds us that life is complicated, and that life is hard.  Wheat and Tares!

So how do we respond?  This seems to be the real question our parable is asking us to consider!  The slaves, the servants, anxiously react to the weeds.  They want to act immediately, they want to get in there and aggressively pull them all out, completely rid the field of any and all weeds!  They’re afraid that if they don’t do something urgently and decisively things will get out of hand, and they will lose control.  And I can relate to their sense of panic, their concern to rid the field of evil. 

However, the Master knows better than to simply re-act to the problem, to re-act out of fear, to re-act without taking time to reflect. He knows there is no quick fix to the problem, that it’s not going to be that easy.  His first concern is not the weeds - but the wheat.  In the parable he mentions the problem of tangled roots; he probably also knows that wheat and tares, as they begin to grow, - look very much alike.  He knows that sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference between a wheat and a tare, and that his overzealous servants might end up mistakenly tearing out some of the wheat and will probably miss some of the tares.   And I imagine he also sees his fields being trampled in the process.  The wise Master is not quick to act, but rather takes some time consider the situation, to look at it from different angles.

At this point it’s probably not hard for us to find ourselves in the story, to see ourselves in the reactionary attitudes and plans of the servants, to see ourselves caught up in the false constructs of fear.  How often have we wanted to begin to weed out the bad seeds in the places where we live and work?  How often have we wanted to decide who’s in and who’s out?  How often have we been so certain about our ability to identify the wheat from the tares, to judge the good and the bad?  And how often have we done great harm in the process of pursuing what seemed to be a righteous goal?  How often have we misjudged “fledgling wheat” that at one point in its life looked like a “wayward tare?”    How often have we re-acted too quickly, not taking the time to reflect and consider, to listen and pray?  How often have we been “the fools” who “rush in,” too quick and too eager to follow the voice of fear, the voice of scarcity, the voice of the enemy?  How often has our quick trigger kept us from hearing the voice of wisdom, the voice of love, the voice of God?

Earlier this year I planted a small garden in my backyard.  And I soon discovered that I was not a very good gardener.  I prepared the soil, and then planted a variety of seeds.  I planted some here and some there, watered them, and then I waited.  Soon, the seeds began to sprout, and shoots came up out of the earth.  I was excited.  And then Melissa asked me, - what was what?  And I didn’t remember what I planted, and where I planted.  I did not label my rows; I didn’t even keep the seed packets.  I had no idea - what was what!  Over the next few weeks, we played a guessing game.  Is that broccoli?  Did I plant broccoli?  Is that cauliflower?  I didn’t plant cauliflower, but it kind of looks like this picture of cauliflower.  Is that a weed or is that a plant that will become a vegetable?  The only thing I knew for sure was the carrots, - no mistaking carrot tops!   The whole garden was a hot mess. On multiple occasions I wanted to clean things up, thin things out, do some weeding, but once again I didn’t know, I had no idea – what was what.  Eventually the plants began to bear fruit, and we figured it out.  But along the way, I did do some weeding, and I’m not sure what I pulled out.  Wheat or Tares?

So it is that the heart of this parable is the Master’s wise response to his servants, “Let them both grow together until the harvest.”  The Master knows that in the end, that given some time, the wheat and the tares will be clearly revealed for what they are, and thus finally easily separated.

In this parable Jesus reminds that we are not called to execute judgment, but instead we are called only to love.  We are called to water, to nurture, and to care for all those entrusted to us.  We are not to be goaded into a thoughtless and unjust reaction.  We are not to trust in our inadequate ability to decide who’s right and who’s wrong, who is being honest and who is being disingenuous, who is in and who is out. I trust that will happen in good time, and with God’s amazing grace and perfect love, at the harvest. A harvest marked by transformation, a surprising transformation, by the one who is the alpha and the omega, the beginning and the end, - the one who will reconcile all things, the one who will bring all things to completion, the one who will bring all things together.  In the meantime, we are set free to simply trust in the goodness of God, to be hopeful, to be surprised by that wheat that once looked like a tare, to be - but gracious servants to all.  

Which brings me to my last thought.  As I ponder today’s scripture reading, I can’t help but wonder, or worry, “Am I ‘wheat’ or am I a ‘weed?’”  There are times when I feel like “wheat,” when I feel like I’m bearing fruit, the grain of the kingdom; and then there are times when I feel like I’m a “tare,” a “weed,” an imposter, - only hiding amongst the wheat, bearing no fruit, just taking up space.  I imagine that we all have that inner conversation from time to time.  I imagine that we all - not only judge others, but we also judge ourselves, and perhaps even more harshly than we judge others. 

Martin Luther reminded us in his teachings, "Simul justus et peccator,” that we are simultaneously both sinners and saints.  So it is that we are not the “wheat,” and we are not the “tares,” but rather, perhaps, in this parable we are more like “the field” itself, - a field that has some wheat and has some tares. 

We are a field that is in process, yet thankfully a field that is being cared for by a wise master.  One who is not going to tear us apart and trample over us in order to make us good. One who is not going to judge us too quickly, but rather one who will be gently and patiently working with us, one who will take all the time that is needed.  One who farms from a place of hope and love and not from a place of judgment and fear, gracefully tending to us, tilling the soil within us, and surely bringing us to that day when in the fullness of God’s kingdom; we are all finally made whole, made complete, healed, transformed, and brought into the harvest, the very fullness of God.  

Let those who have ears, hear!  Amen

Sermon on Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

I love a personality test.

Whether it’s the Myers-Briggs or the Enneagram or a ridiculous Buzzfeed quiz that tells you what Disney princess you are, sign me up!

So, it’s easy for me to look at the parable of the sower and ask, “which part of the parable am I?”

Am I like the seed that fell on the path? Does my lack of understanding allow the seed of faith to be snatched up by birds?

Am I rocky ground? Is my faith enthusiastic but lacking in depth?

Or am I full of the thorns of worry and greed that choke the life out of my faith?

Or am I good soil that bears fruit? And if so, am I bearing a yield of thirty, sixty, or a hundredfold?

As much as I normally like to puzzle over what personality type I am, this parable has caused me a lot of anxiety over the years. I’ve worried that my faith wasn’t genuine or deep or bearing enough fruit. It’s easy to use this parable as a litmus test to see if one’s faith measures up.

On the other hand, it’s also easy to try and type other people.

That person who just comes to church because their family does, maybe that person is like the seed on the path and just doesn’t get it.

Or maybe that other person who stopped coming to church after something difficult happened, maybe they’re like the rocky ground and expected things to be easy if they believed in God.

Or all of the so-called “nones,” people who report that they have no religious affiliation—maybe they’re like the seeds among the thorns, so caught up in worldly pursuits that they have no time for God.

And that person over there who attends every Bible study and never stops talking about God, that person must be good soil.

But, earlier in the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus reminds us, “Do not judge, so that you may not be judged.” Typing other people based on the parable of the sower might not be the best way to keep from judging other people.

Besides, the parable of the sower is not a personality test. It wasn’t a tool developed by psychologists or even internet content creators looking for more hits on their website. It’s a parable—a story that tells us something about God and the world we live in.

When trying to understand something in the Bible, it’s always good to look at the context, so let’s see what comes before and after this parable and what that tells us:

In Matthew chapter 12, Jesus has been butting heads with both the religious leaders and the crowds over doing things on the Sabbath and where Jesus’ authority comes from. Last week, we heard a frustrated Jesus scold the crowd for their contradictory attitudes toward John the Baptist and himself. Jesus essentially says, “There’s no pleasing you!” Then, he goes on to offer them instead the peace and rest that comes from following him and being part of the Beloved Community.

So, the parable of the sower could be an explanation of why different people are reacting to the good news of the Beloved Community differently. Some people are going to receive it gladly, some will receive it conditionally, and some won’t get it at all.

Then, if we look at what comes after this parable, we discover that it’s just the first in a long series of parables that Jesus tells in Matthew chapter 13, and they all touch on the Beloved Community. Most of them begin: “the kingdom of heaven is like…”, and we’ll be looking at more of them in the next few weeks.

This chapter is a collection of things Jesus has to say about the Beloved Community. And the Beloved Community is about, well, community. It’s about relationship and connection and generosity and support for one another. It’s not about whether individuals measure up to arbitrary standards. It’s not about dividing people between good soil and bad soil. All are invited. All are welcome. All are supported and celebrated.

In the parable, the sower doesn’t look at the path or the rocky ground or the thorns and say, “That’s not good soil—I’m not going to bother.” Instead, the sower throws seeds generously, abundantly, even foolishly.

There’s no sense of having to use the seeds sparingly—the sower throws the seeds all over and trusts that there will be fruit.

Jesus explains that the seeds are “the word of the kingdom.” Like the sower, Jesus is not worrying about who will hear it as good news and who will be resistant to it. He’s throwing invitations into the Beloved Community lavishly, without regard to who’s “worthy” or what “type” people might be. The invitation is as abundant as the Beloved Community itself.

If we emulate the sower, we don’t need to be concerned with what type of soil we are or others are.

When we’re worried about typing ourselves, our focus is inward. We’re riddled with anxiety about whether we’re bearing enough fruit and how deep our roots are. That’s a scarcity mindset that doesn’t leave room for the abundance of the Beloved Community.

And when we find ourselves typing others, our focus is outward, but in a way that judges others instead of embracing them. 

We’re looking at someone and deciding that they must only come to church because their family does, but we don’t know the faithful questions they’re struggling with on the inside. 

Or we notice that someone stopped going to church after a difficult situation in their life and we judge them instead of checking in to see if they need support.

Or we read about the “nones” with no religious affiliation or the “dones” who have walked away from institutional religion, and we make assumptions instead of listening to the deep hurt religion has caused them or people they love. Their integrity in taking a stand is something to be admired, not judged.

And when we’re focused on how others are measuring up, that’s usually a good sign that we’re insecure about some aspect of ourselves. A judging mindset doesn’t leave room for the generosity of the Beloved Community.

But when our focus is on the sower, we see the lavish Beloved Community at work, and we can lay down our sense of scarcity and judgment and take up a sense of abundance and generosity instead.

Not everyone is going to receive the message of the Beloved Community as good news, but the invitation is for everyone. And the sower doesn’t worry about “wasting” the invitation. There will be enough fruit for everyone.

So, let’s leave the personality tests to Buzzfeed, and let’s live abundantly and generously together in the Beloved Community.

That is good news.