Living in the Field of Good and Evil

July 19, 2020 Pentecost 7, Year A The Rev. Mark Pendleton Christ Church, Exeter Living in the Field of Good and Evil Last week in her sermon on the parable of the Sower, Alanna Van Antwerpen shifted our focus from the seeds that were being scattered to the ground underneath our feet. She said: We're responsible for the ground; that's what's ours, the ground, the dirt, the soil. The question left with us: can we dig deeper? Can we ask God for help in making our hearts more fertile ground? Today we move to the next parable in Jesus' collection, the parable of the weeds among the wheat. Our agricultural plot thickens. The questions before us: what does this story tell us about God and the life that we live in God's creation? Who and what are the obstacles we face in living out our days in faith? What are we to do when we see evil take hold around us? Parables are conversation starters in that they have a wonderful way to keep the dialogue and the learning going. They are spiritual ice-breakers that get us thinking and talking about our faith. They are not so much puzzles to solve, rather, as someone once described them: "like clear glass window that Jesus wants us to look through to see the other side." So, let's take a look through this window. Good seed is planted. At night when everyone was sleeping and when no one was looking, the enemy comes and sows weeds. When the weeds are discovered, the servants naturally want to rip them out. But the master said no. Let them be. If you pull out the weeds you will pull out the good wheat as well. Let them grow, side by side and the weeds will be taken care of in the final harvest. We might say: Don't throw the baby out with the bath water. Later, Jesus explains what he meant: good and evil exist side by side. Children of the Kingdom are the good seed: children of the evil one is the weeds. When judgement comes, when angels are sent, there will be a sorting and a reckoning and the righteous will shine and the evildoers will burn. It is a vision of the world that requires choices to be made and a vision to see what is right. Heavy stuff. The parable, like many Jesus tells, is about the Kingdom of God - this 'already but not yet' thing God is doing. This Kingdom or Reign has come and is getting worked into the soil. We can see it, add to it, help in its making, and not fully know when it will fully emerge. It is continually being planted in a world that is far from perfect. Wheat and weeds flourish side by side all the time. Famines, poverty, earthquakes, hurricanes, mass shootings, corruption, cruelty and abuse can thrive at the same time that art, music, generosity, love, sacrifice, laughter and joy endures and inspires. When this parable takes its turn and names the enemy, the evil one, the devil, it is understandable that many who listen might easily convince themselves that they/we know who the evils ones are. It is catnip for our polarized society struggling through this pandemic when you're either on one side of the other. Should anyone be surprised, even though we are frustrated and disheartened, about the level of the finger-pointing and shaming that is raging? The example of the moment: masks. Those wearing masks are 'good.' Those choosing not to are 'bad.' Even if I agree with the science that mask wearing in this side of a vaccine is our best hope for right now, it is very easy to rage at those who on the other side. When I rage too hot and for too long, I lose sight of what motivates me to care in the first place. It is beyond frustrating how so many of us have been divided when we should be working together as a society. With this parable in my ear, I will try to resist for a moment in seeing the evil one lurking behind every decision I disagree with. I also wonder about the timing. The servants in the parable saw the weeds right away and they wanted to pull them out. It made perfectly good gardening sense. And then the Master puts on the brakes. Let them both grow together. Wait. It will get settled in the end. Back in 2015, Matt Ford of the The Atlantic Magazine published an article entitled: "The Ethics of Killing Baby Hitler." The article came about from a survey when the New York Time Magazine asked, "Dear Reader: Could you kill a baby Hitler?" 30% said no. 43% said yes. 28% were unsure. What lays behind such a provocative and strange ethical question? Essentially it is this: could taking one human life be justified in the hopes of saving millions of lives? It is not a new question. In the end, the author came down on the side of no. He would not kill baby Adolf because he doubted that Hitler's nonexistence would have prevented World War II or the Holocaust. Hitler, Ford writes, did not invent fascism, militarism, or anti-Semitism, although he proved to be remarkably adept at harnessing them for political power. Ford continues: Focusing on Hitler's direct responsibility for the Holocaust blinds us to more disturbing truths about the early 20th century. His absence from history would not remove the underlying political ideologies or social movements that fueled his ascendancy. Focusing on Hitler's central role in the Holocaust also risks ignoring the thousands of participants who helped carry it out, both within Germany and throughout occupied Europe, and on the social and political forces that preceded it. We know this truth through another route. In Psalm 139 we hear: v. 22 Search me out, O God, and know my heart; try me and know my restless thoughts. V. 23 Look well whether there be any wickedness in me and lead me in the way that is everlasting. The rather bizarre Baby Hitler question left the author with two feelings. The first: humility. "We can never know what a universe without Hitler would have looked like. But the implicit argument that his removal would improve history must also consider that his removal could make it worse." "The second is relief. Removing Hitler from history would gamble with one irrefutable truth: He lost." Humility is never a bad life style to bring to an ethic debate or a day in the life of you and me. We cannot know or fully understand what lays behind the decisions that others make. Even at an obscene and terrible human cost, Hitler lost. When embers of his cause start smoldering again in the shouts of grievance coming from crowds, our answer will always be: He lost. Love wins. Christ overcame evil and death on the cross and was raised in the Resurrection. A new life of light and abundance and joy is open to those who will follow in his Way and not get lost in ways that lead nowhere good. Lastly, author's conclusion is the backdrop of today's wheat and weeds parable. The weeds would not get pulled out even if they eventually grow into the most evil and terrible weed of them all. To focus on one person, even when that person is over-the-top evil, might end up blinding us to our role, our complicity, and the allure of evil - even for self-professed good people. Our fingerprints can find their way very easily on systems and decisions that hold people down and keep them from living a life of promotes the dignity of every human being. The sorting and the weeding is God's territory. God is the master gardener. Our God is gracious, and full of compassion, slow to anger, and full of kindness and truth. Knowing and believing this calls us to our work: becoming children of the kingdom. In the meantime, let's get back to the soil. Dig deeper and grow. 2