Eighth Sunday after Pentecost
Psalm 86: 11-17
Romans 8:12-25
The Gospel of Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43
Preached at House of Hope Lutheran Church (New Hope, MN)
July 23, 2023
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Grace and peace to you, from God the Creator, Christ the Liberator, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
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The world is not simple. We know this. Times of great joy and possibility are entangled with loss and uncertainty. Our faith in God’s steadfast and unending love is woven together with our experiences of sin and harm in the world. The vast multitude of God’s creation, including each of us, cannot be neatly divided in two.
We know this in our bones. And yet, in both Paul’s letter to the Romans and our text from the Gospel of Matthew, harsh lines are being drawn. Flesh and Spirit. Weeds and wheat. Sinner and righteous. But given space to breathe, these dualities can guide us into an expansion of our experience of the world, instead of a narrowing.
When we hear flesh and Spirit from Paul, we might picture a division between our bodies and our spirits – that they are distinct and able to be separated. It seems to set up a false competition between our material reality and our connection to God. But what if flesh and Spirit, instead of being two parts that we can draw a line between, or two types of people, are two parts of us, entwined, and what matters is where we put our attention?
The Reverend Doctor Monya Stubbs, an elder in the African Methodist Episcopal Church and professor at Austin Seminary, writes about flesh and Spirit as two types of mindsets. She says: “These two mindsets are not parallel opposites. Functioning out of a flesh-centered mindset always promotes the ‘self’ at the expense or disregard of others. A mindset defined by mutual edification/indebted love [the Spirit], however, does not deny the ‘self’ and only considers others. Rather, a mindset defined by mutual edification/indebted love is one of radical reciprocity….[those who live this way] take into account their own gifts, talents, ideas, concerns, and needs in relation to others.”
A Spirit-mindset does not ask us to ignore our material reality – including our embodied experiences of class, race, gender, and ability. A Spirit-focus simply places our attention on God, with all of the wonder and questions that that holds. A flesh-mindset turns our attention away from God, and might turn us towards viewing empire as holy, towards exploiting others for our own gain, or towards a scarcity mindset. God came to us in a body, in the body of Christ – a body like ours, holy and human, weeping, hungering, thirsting. Our bodies are not our enemies. Our bodies are not enemies of the Spirit.
When we lean into the Spirit, into God, that is a space of mutuality, of interconnectedness, of interdependence. Of wheat fields growing into an abundant harvest.
What seeds are we planting? What world is being birthed?
In today’s parable from Matthew, there is a wealthy farm owner who sowed good seed in his field. In the middle of the night, an enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat. When the workers enslaved by the farm owner discover this, they ask if they should pull up the weeds. However, the roots of the two are so entwined that if they pull up the weeds, it will destroy the wheat harvest. When Jesus unpacks this parable with the disciples, he places God as the sower of good seed, and the one who will separate the wheat from the weeds in the Kingdom of God, throwing the weeds into the furnace.
An easy first reading of this parable would be to place people into two categories – you are either wheat (righteous) or a weed (a sinner). To tie this back to Paul, you are either flesh, or Spirit. While the passage makes it very clear that Jesus is the one to judge at the harvest, there is a human temptation for us to place ourselves as judge, categorizing others as good or bad, categorizing ourselves as good or bad. Which can lead to fearing God’s judgement if we make a mistake, or fearing God’s judgement if the world deems our identities weeds to be burned. Which can lead to a view that someone is either wheat or weed, unable to change, unable to grow into something other than who they were planted as, placed into categories that are not inherent – what some would call a weed others would call beautiful, or nourishment.
This passage also makes it clear that the roots and survival of both the wheat and the weeds in this field are bound up together. Which I read as saying – uprooting another human being or group of people will uproot you and us as well. We are embodied, yes, we are of the Spirit – interconnected, interdependent. We are bound together.
And. There are beliefs and ideologies that are harmful and sinful. That should be uprooted and thrown into the furnace. That cannot be allowed to take root and grow. Where the benefit of ripping them up outweighs the danger of letting them grow. Things like Christian nationalism. White supremacy. Systems of inequality where a few people hold so much wealth and power while the vast majority of Creation is hurting.
The careful distinction here is teasing apart ideology, belief, actions, from the person, from the sense of self. We are not static beings. We each have the capacity, at any point in our life, to grow, and change, and turn towards God, again and again. Towards the Spirit. Towards each other. And away from systems and beliefs that harm each other. At the end of the day, we are not the judge. It is not our place in the Kingdom of God to discard each other, to throw each other into the fire. We are of the Spirit. Of each other. Our roots and survival are bound up together.
What seeds are we planting? What world is being birthed?
The image of Jesus and God judging the harvest is a harsh one. Sorting out weeds from wheat, and throwing the weeds, the sinners, into the furnace of fire. This is a frightening, and violent, image of God. Especially if we consider ourselves and others static beings. Especially if the world is telling you that you are a weed, that you should be uprooted and destroyed. Yes, our actions have consequences. Yes, we might need to enter into processes of repentance and reconciliation. Yes, parts of us might need to die for new life to blossom.
And. This is one of many facets of God. In just the texts this week we receive many images of God. God as judge. God as merciful and gracious. God as a being of steadfast love.
In our own Lutheran theology, God is also grace. We are saved through the love of God, adopted into the Spirit of God through baptism, and freed through the grace and love of God. Specifically, God frees us from worrying about whether we are wheat or weeds. We are beloved by God, as we are, and as who we are becoming in response to God. We don’t have to worry about whether we are wheat or a weed, saint or sinner, because we’re both at the same time. And beloved. Always beloved. This is liberating. We are freed from worrying about our salvation, and therefore freed to respond to the glorious, steadfast love of God through sharing that some love with our neighbors. We are freed to do good in the world, to love each other and God, fiercely. We don’t need to cling to the fear that God as judge might bring up for us. In response to our fear, God reveals Godself and says – be with me, as I am with you. Be enfolded into, adopted into, my love for you, and for all of Creation. Do not be afraid, but be freed to dwell in Me. God is for our liberation. Liberation into radical mutuality. Liberation for a redeemed world – a redeemed Creation. The Kingdom of God.
And dreaming towards this kingdom? This redemptive love of God for all of Creation? It is risky. Dreaming of liberation is risky, because failure is possible. When we hope towards a world freed through God’s love, the Spirit, and our relationships, there is so much room for disappointment when we still experience a world that is structured around the flesh mindset – structured around competition and scarcity. All of Creation is in the midst of labor pains. The future is unknown. In his writing Paul is asking us to engage in tenderhearted, vulnerable work – the work of hope, and is assuring us that we do that work with God, and with each other.
Asking us to stay connected and grounded enough that we can dream of liberation.
Asking us to let go of distorted fear, and the comfort of despair, knowing it is much more challenging to hope.
Asking us to acknowledge that this work of hope and liberation involves labor pains, and patience, for the unfolding of the Kingdom.
Matthew and Paul were writing to and about communities who held the belief that the Kingdom of God was not generations off, but was hours, or weeks away. There’s an urgency. Even as both texts ask us to be patient. Wait for the harvest. Wait for what we are hoping for. Patience, endurance, is the duality of holding onto hope that things will change in our lifetimes, that we need to be ready for when the fuse ignites, and knowing that God’s transformative work requires labor pains, and spans generations.
Even as we might be exhausted, or afraid of how rapidly things are changing, or overwhelmed with the realities and suffering of the pandemic, systemic racism, and climate change, if you are on the verge of, or past the point of, burning out, these passages are asking and challenging you and us to trust that God is being revealed in the world, always. God, as they enfold us in love and support, calls us to dwell in the risk of hoping for a freedom that is still becoming, still growing, still being birthed. Roots entangling, the harvest is not here yet. We are co-creators, strengthened and guided by God in this work of risky, liberative hope of the Kingdom. We are bound together in community, even as God releases us from bindings and structures that harm. We are brought into a spirit of adoption by God, into the collective, creative, messy, project of liberation for all of Creation.
What seeds are we planting? What world is being birthed?
Reed Fowler 