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Ninth Sunday of Pentecost

July 20, 2008

Genesis 28:10-19a

Romans 8:12-25

Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43

 

Edwin Muir, and English poet who lived from 1887 – 1959, wrote a poem that was based on the parable of the Wheat and the Tares that we heard read from the Gospel of Matthew.  Here are a few lines taken from that poem:

 

One foot in Eden still I stand,

And look across the other land.

The world’s great day is growing late,

Yet strange these fields that we have planted

So long with crops of love and hate.

 

Nothing now can separate

The corn and the tares compactly grown.

 

But famished field and blackened tree

Bear flowers in Eden never known.

Blossoms of grief and charity

Bloom in these darkened fields alone.

What had Eden ever to say

Of hope and faith and pity and love?

 

Strange blessings never in Paradise

Fell from these beclouded skies.

 

Muir was writing at the end of the Second World War.  The beclouded skies, the famished fields and blackened trees of his poem evoke the landscapes and cityscapes of Europe after the Great War.  Muir’s Christian faith led him to write a poem that would in some way compare the futility and the waste of that War with the extraordinary acts of bravery and charity that it had occasioned.  He did not want to give us an explanation or a justification of evil; he simply wished to observe its effects on the human spirit.

 

We see something of the same thing in today’s parable.  As an explanation of the origin of evil, it is unsatisfactory.  Firstly, who is the enemy who comes in the night?  Why is he allowed to get away with his sabotage unpunished?  We know neither where the enemy is from, nor the reason why he is feuding with the farmer.  Secondly, why does the farmer allow the weeds to grow alongside the wheat?  Why can’t something be done immediately to separate the two?

 

It is clear that the parable was not written in order to address such question.  It was not written to explain the origin of evil.  Jesus simply accepts that evil is present in the world, and attempts to reassure us that the world in which we live is under God’s control.  The words, “An enemy has done this!” remind us that God is not ultimately responsible for the evil in the world.  They remind us that there is an ongoing conflict between God and the evil that mars the world we live in.  The parable tells us that God is not the author of evil, and that He alone can distinguish the good from the bad.  The final decision is not to be made here and now, but at some future time at which the results of our decisions and our actions will be made clear.

 

You will note that the farm laborers in the parable want to go out and get rid of the weeds as quickly as possible.  The farmer stops them, because he is aware of two crucial facts.  Firstly, when wheat and tares begin to grow, their leaves are undistinguishable to the eye.  It is easy to mistake one for the other.  Secondly, even if one were to be able to tell them apart, it would be dangerous to try to pull up the tares because their roots are so deeply entwined with the roots of the wheat.  If you remove the one, the other will also die.  The farmer knows that the two must grow together, but a time will come when the difference between the two will be abundantly clear.  One will bear fruit, and the other will not.  A good crop will be harvested, and nothing that is good will be lost.

 

Jesus is certainly not telling us that evil is present in the world to “Teach us a Lesson” or to improve our Moral Character.  Evil is the work of the Enemy.  Prejudice, disease, starvation, war and poverty have no positive value whatsoever.  And yet, we are growing in the midst of them.  Our roots are intertwined with theirs.  For the time being, we cannot be separated.  “Nothing now can separate the corn and the tares compactly grown.”  Muir’s poem is so moving because it reveals for us a haunting fact.  We are not growing in some perfect Eden, with temperatures and rainfall ideally suited to the nourishment of our souls.  We are growing in the famished and darkened fields, and the fruits we bear are all the more strange and beautiful for that.  Hope, faith, pity and love take root in these difficult soils.  And God, the Great Gardener, knows that such strange fruits need strange nourishment.  He knows in what conditions we are growing, and sends the help we need.  His last lines are perhaps intended to make us think of the Fruit of the Tree of Calvary:  “Strange blessings never in Paradise, / Fell from these beclouded skies.”                      NJM