The Bible (opened)
Sermon - Year A

16th Sunday in Ordinary Time

This a perennial question and one of – if not the most often – raised by human beings. It has been pondered over by great thinkers, philosophers and theologians, as well as by common folk afflicted by its subject. These days this question is often used to lash out at Christians by those who reject the notion of a benevolent God. The question I’m referring to is the omnipresent existence of evil and – consequently – of suffering. It was this issue that Jesus addressed in today’s gospel.

The parable of wheat and darnel wasn’t Jesus’ theoretical reflection on the nature of good and evil. Instead of producing a theological treatise, he approached the challenging reality of evil’s existence in a more practical way. We can find those pieces of advice when we look closely at the parable.

The man who sowed good seeds reflects the benevolent God. It’s like recalling the biblical story of creation with the phrase which summarised each symbolic day: “And God saw that it was good.” (Genesis 1:18) But then such perfect goodness was spoiled by actions of “his enemy”“satan” in Hebrew. The parable symbolically shows that good and evil coexist. It is true about each and every one. These days there’s quite a widespread so-called “progressive” belief that people are good by default and would never take advantage of someone or something. About half a year ago, the Scottish Government pushed through the Scottish Parliament a highly controversial and divisive bill based on such a premise. Barely had the bill been approved when reality hit and did so hard when a court case showed precisely how manipulative and cunning individuals could exploit and abuse the law. Whether we like it or not, reality always wins, and the reality is that each one of us is equally capable of good and evil.

Back to the parable. When both wheat and darnel had grown, the servants quickly spotted the weed and asked the perennial question, where did it come from? Then they offered a simple solution: “Do you want us to go and weed it out?” It’s a natural and commendable reaction in the face of evil to get rid of it eagerly. So, the negative answer by the owner of the contaminated field seemed to be odd: “No, because when you weed out the darnel, you might pull up the wheat with it.” The problem wasn’t the servants’ inability to discern the wheat from the darnel; they were more than capable of doing so. The problem was the entangled roots of both plants; pulling the darnel could result in collateral damage to the wheat – something the owner was unwilling to accept. It reflects the overarching attitude of our benevolent God, beautifully lauded in today’s first reading: “There is no god, other than you, who cares for every thing. […] By acting thus, you have taught a lesson to your people.” There are people out there who are very radical in fighting evil, paradoxically hell-bent on creating morally pure communities or societies, unblemished and untarnished by even a hint or shadow of imperfection. Usually, such radicalism is directed at others and often causes a lot of pain and collateral damage. Years ago, I got to know a couple of divorced and remarried people, looking after the woman’s then wee girl. They came to church each Sunday despite disapproval by some in the local community. They believed the couple should have split up and ended their sinful relationship. Yet they persevered for the sake of the girl. A few years later, her mother died, and the care of the girl relied solely on the man. Thanks to his devotion, she grew into a fine young lady.

Yes, we must eagerly fight against evil – in our hearts. Our radicalism makes sense only when it’s directed inwardly. The owner of the contaminated field of wheat was ready to wait patiently until the time of harvest. Then the weed would be pulled out and collected as fuel, while wheat accidentally pulled alongside because of the entangled roots could be put aside, ready for threshing with the rest of the crop. In such a way, nothing good is lost as collateral damage. Here we can move beyond the obvious limitation of the parable. In nature, darnel cannot turn into wheat. But in God’s field, such a symbolic change is possible. We can, and we do change in the course of our lives. Some of those changes come naturally with age; others are caused by external factors beyond our control. But there are a great deal of things we can change by reflecting on and discerning our attitudes and actions; we can learn from our mistakes so that we don’t repeat them. Our benevolent God can be reflected in us: “You have given your sons the good hope that after sin, you will grant repentance.”