July 23, 2023 (Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time)

“To Weed or Not to Weed”

by Fr. Dominic DeLay, O.P.

[This is the text composed by the homilist prior to delivering the homily.]

I wish I paid more attention at Mass when I was a kid. Then, when my dad told us it was time to pull weeds, I could tell him Jesus told me not to.

In the culture of honor and shame that Jesus lived in, weeds in the wheat would be a visible, shameful thing for the landowner. He’s been bested by his enemies. Shouldn’t he get rid of the weeds before anyone notices? Shouldn’t he retaliate?

I did a little research. It seems clear that someone trying to grow something should get rid of weeds. Dad, you were right. But the landowner says that if the weeds are pulled up, the wheat might accidentally be pulled up as well. He trusts that his wheat can withstand the competition for nutrition and water.

But then Jesus isn’t really giving a farming lesson, is he? He’s telling us to let God judge what is bad and when and how to remove it. That’s really challenging, isn’t it? Are we supposed to refrain from doing something about evil in the world and wait for God’s judgment day, whenever that is? Or, if we’re supposed to act against injustice, how do we determine what God is telling us about what is bad and when and how to remove it?

We have to act against what’s bad, right? But we need to do it in a discerning and constructive way rather than panic and retaliate. Someone speaks ill of me. How do I respond in a way that doesn’t make things worse? There are so many people being treated unjustly in the world. How do we respond in a way that leads to true and lasting justice?

Now it turns out the word we often translate as weed is a very specific kind of weed, darnell. Darnell looks very much like wheat, especially early on. No wonder the landowner said to wait. Then, when the wheat is mature, everything can be cut and separated. So the parable is about patience, too.

And the weeds aren’t just outside of us. They’re inside too, aren’t they? God knows we’ve tried to uproot this sin and that sin from our lives. We furiously tear away but the same sins grow back before we even turn around. We need to step back, calmly observe, be patient for God’s lead, let God do most of the work.

Now that I think about it, I’m sure there were times when my dad told me to pull the weeds and I tried to convince him they weren’t weeds. Isn’t that a flower? If we let the weeds mature, we can make a better judgment. If I don’t rush to judgment, my weaknesses, what I want to uproot, might point me toward something better. When we brainstorm, we let the bad ideas lead us to good ones. Our practice of synodality, of listening to one another and walking together rather than judging each other, is a beautiful way to put today’s gospel into action. Besides, isn’t one person’s weed another person’s cilantro?

Today, Paul tells the Corinthians and us that “the Spirit comes to the aid of our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes with inexpressible groanings.” In our contemplative prayer class this summer, we practiced trusting God to work within us in a way that is beyond insight and good feelings. Carmelite nun Ruth Burrows writes about her prayer: “I see nothing of what is going on, of whether the inner garden is beautiful and blooming or not, and have given up all desire to see it because I want God to have it all. You see, that means I can never have any illusion that whatever has happened and is happening within me is my achievement.” Our harvest is God’s work; our prayer is God’s work. Trust. Patience and trust.

Taken with today’s other two parables, the weeds and wheat teach us that God is in charge and that, despite appearances to the contrary, God will bring about the kingdom. The endangered wheat will grow, the unimpressive mustard seed will flourish, the slimy, smelly yeast will permeate all and God’s kingdom will rise. God can’t and won’t be stopped.

Trusting in God means we don’t panic, we don’t presume we know what and when to uproot, and that we believe that God is merciful. As the person praying in today’s passage from the Book of Wisdom says to God, “Your mastery over all things makes you lenient to all…you gave your children good ground for hope that you would permit repentance for their sins.” God gives us good ground, good soil, for hope and trust. Today’s psalm sings, “You, O Lord, are good and forgiving, abounding in kindness to all who call upon you…All the nations you have made shall come and worship you…” God doesn’t rush to judgment with any of us, no matter how bad we think we are or someone else is.

It turns out that, when it’s time to harvest, the trusting landowner has a ready supply of fuel, all those weeds he let grow. What unexpected benefits might we experience when we allow God to be in charge of the harvest?

One more thing for those wondering what happened to the optional longer version of today’s gospel: like last week’s parable, Jesus goes on to allegorize today’s parable for his disciples, not the usual way to approach a parable. Were the disciples too lazy or too tired to puzzle over the parable? Jesus says the one who “sows good seed is the Son of Humanity, the field is the world, the good seed the children of the kingdom, etc.” A different approach to the parable, but the message is the same, if a little too neat: God is in charge.

God is in charge, which means the wheat will prevail and we will be fed with our daily bread, God’s very self.