“Into the Weeds”
Original sermon given July 23, 2023, written and delivered by Pastor Jeffrey Leininger at First Saint Paul’s Lutheran Church
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“Into the Weeds”
Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43
Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43
In the name of the Living God and the Risen Christ.
There are some menial tasks your new pastor is quite good and… others, not so much. I’m great at washing dishes—I actually find it soothing, in a way. I’m really good with a toilet brush, or a plunger, if necessary. Mops and brooms? Definitely my friends.
But before you sign me up to come help at your place, keep in mind that I’m not great with weeds. Let me clarify: I’m happy to do the hard labor of digging, and pulling, and dragging the Menard’s bag to the curb, but the actual discernment between what’s a weed and what’s not, I need some help with. When I assist Rachel with the gardening, she has to be very specific with me.
“That’s a weed,” she’ll say.
“Are you sure,” I’ll ask.
“Yes.”
“But it looks pretty, and I’d hate to pull something up that’s supposed to be there.”
And then, as I’m digging and working, I’ll have second thoughts and need further consultation:
“Wait, these are the weeds, right?”
“Yes. I want all those gone. And make sure and pull them up from the roots.”
This is all to confirm what my dad once told me long ago: “There are some jobs, Jeff, where we just need a strong back and a weak mind.” That’s me in the garden, so keep that in mind for the Wunder’s work day coming up in August!
I would have had an especially had a difficult time discerning the weeds from the wheat in the parable Jesus tells from Matthew 13. And so would you, which is the whole point of the story. A farmer sows good seed, but as it grows, an enemy, or adversarial competitor, comes at night and sows weeds on top of the wheat. As they both sprout up, the servants ask the farmer if they should try and pull up the weeds. (These are the “strong backs, weak minds guys” like me).
Wisely, the Landowner tells them, “No, for you’ll pull up the roots of both, and then they’ll be no harvest at all.” Instead, both the weeds and the wheat are left to grow together, for a time, until at the final harvest they’ll be easily distinguished and separated.
Let’s get into the weeds with these weeds for a moment. There’s a pretty good chance we know the specific type of weeds Jesus references. Most scholars agree they’re what’s commonly known as “darnel: a weed related to rye grass which in the early stages of growth” looks an awful lot like wheat.[1] What’s more, its grains are poisonous if consumed, so this would be a truly diabolical way of ruining someone’s entire crop. Thankfully, when darnel matures, you can more easily distinguish it from the wheat. Thus at the close of the parable the reapers gather first the darnel to be burned, and then the wheat is garnered into the barn.
The parable is a straightforward story about the not very straightforward story of our world, the church, and our own sinful hearts. There’s so much we wish we could sort out right now—or that God would sort out for us. We rightly cry out for justice, but it seems never to come. We wonder why so much evil is allowed to continue seemingly unchecked. We lament that Christ’s Church seems at times dysfunctional and full of sinners. We grieve divisions among nations and even within families. Both good and evil, faithfulness and unfaithfulness, wheat and weeds grow intermingled in human history, and church history, and our own personal histories.
And if we’re honest enough to get into the weeds of our own hearts, we’ll find much is untidy there too. As St. Paul acknowledges from the Romans reading a couple of weeks ago (Romas 7:18):
“For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh. For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out. For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing.”
Note well that this is after his conversion, after he’s met the living Christ face to face! Even the great St. Paul finds both weeds and wheat in his heart. And this is the lamentable struggle of every Christian.
Jesus’ parable does a couple of things for us. 1) It confirms a truth we probably already know about our present struggles, and 2) gives us an ultimate warning about our ultimate destiny.
The truth we probably already know is that the world is a mixed bag mess. And the strongest backs paired with the strongest minds aren’t ultimately going to completely repair it. Good and evil remain intermixed in this world and will always be so until Christ returns. The poisonous weeds of hypocrisy grow even in within the Christian church. This is hard to acknowledge and can fill us with a sense of frustration, helplessness, or even anger at God.
But the Lord promises that one day it will all get sorted. And He says that until that final day his grace will have to be sufficient for us. We are called to persevere in faith until his return. This means keep working in the garden but know that the ultimate sorting will only come at the end.
Secondly, the warning here is that there is indeed a final judgement—a last reckoning where the children of darkness and the children of light will be separated. It’s a difficult thing to preach about, or even think about. But as clearly as Jesus speaks it here, we confess it weekly in the creed: “from thence he will come to judge the living and the dead.”
This warning about the final judgement drives us to our knees in both repentance and faith. Repentance, because we know the damning darnel, the constant presence of poison in our hearts and on our lips and in our lives. Surely, as in St. Paul’s words, we are the chief of sinners. Surely, any pretense that we’re wheat only, and not weeds would be the height of hypocrisy. Surely, if we truly got what we deserved, we too would be gathered for the furnace fire. In this way the Lord’s parable convicts all of us and calls us each to account: am I weed or wheat?
But here in this place, we have the joy of proclaiming the good news of God’s grace. Grace is undeserved mercy. Living in faith means trusting ultimately in God’s mercy…for sinners, for weeds, and for all those who live in this mixed bag, messed up, weed and wheat world. The blood of Jesus, messiah, cleanses us from all sin. He, the only truly righteous person ever, lived a perfect life on our behalf. He will be our covering on the final day of judgement. His bitter sufferings and death have reconciled us to God. His resurrection on the third day is described as “the first fruits.” That is, our resurrection will follow one day too—all who believe and are baptized into his saving name. This is how we stand at the final judgement: upon Christ’s gracious, powerful, saving work for us and over us.
From a beautiful garden to a beautiful garden we go. The Eden of paradise lost will one day be an eternal paradise restored. Between those two, we now work and live, struggle and love. It’s a tough tension to live in—knowing that we can’t discern all things or fix all things or know all things or judge all things. But with a hand at the plough and an eye towards heaven, we trust the good and gracious gardener will one day make all things right in the kingdom of light.
And, so we continue to pray, “Come soon, Lord Jesus.”
Amen.
[1] R. T. France, The Gospel of Matthew, p. 525