Some of you might still remember from a few years back “Tad’s Tatties”, which were distributed from St Peter’s porch for a number of weeks. The tatties were a by-product of the rather noble enterprise of turning a strip of ground in the parish garden into a playground for the pupils of St Peter’s Primary School. First of all, that wild, overgrown and partially inaccessible strip had to be cleared. That was done manually by a gardener; it was a back-breaking job that took several weeks. The gardener’s advice to me was to plant tatties in order to clear the soil completely of any remaining weeds. My assumption was that the tatties, as they were growing, would eliminate surrounding plants by releasing specific chemicals or toxins – a bit like the yew tree, so poisonous and toxic that nothing else is able to grow at the foot of it. Only after I had planted the tatties did I learn that the soil is cleared of weeds incidentally, as potatoes have to have additional work done on them while they are growing. Left untended, the tatties would have become overgrown by weeds. Consequently, I had to work in the field over that summer, fighting a ferocious battle against seemingly unconquerable and indestructible foes: those weeds!
That memory came back to me as I was reading today’s gospel. Jesus used the parable when he was trying to explain the existence of evil in a good world created by the good God. This dramatic question wasn’t new at the time when Jesus told this parable. Literally every culture and religion under the sun has tried to find an explanation of the scandal of evil. The story of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden, as we know it from the Bible, is one of many such attempts. Despite all the answers and explanations put forward by religions, philosophies and cultures, the question regarding the presence of evil in the world remains valid, and is raised continually. Every tragic event, be it on an individual or multinational level, prompts people to ask the same question: ‘Why did that happen?’ Tragic events can lead people to religion as well as drive them away from it. What is common to both eventualities, and to all reactions in between, is the need to understand, to find any logic or explanation for the specific tragedy. Finding an explanation helps us to cope with it and eventually to find closure.
Wouldn’t it be great to weed evil out of this world! Realistically, though, we cannot do much about it: most of us have at best very little impact on the course of the world. But although we can do little to change the world for the better, that doesn’t mean we should sit back and do nothing. In fact, when Jesus told his parable, he addressed it to a group of individuals whose power to change the world was similar to ours. The field where the good God sowed good seed is your heart. It’s the same field where the unwelcome seed of evil finds a bed. And in the same field of your heart, both have the capacity to grow. Those familiar with gardening or farming can attest that weeds can grow effortlessly, while good plants require a lot attention and hard work. The field of your heart is no different. Without your personal effort and self-control, the shoots of evil can sprout effortlessly. Seemingly innocent gossip can turn into slander; seemingly innocent repossession of goods can lead to serious theft or embezzlement; the list of examples can go on forever. Every big crime starts out as a small, seemingly innocent thought or act. Most of the evil in the world, except for natural disasters, has been done by other people. No, that’s wrong… It’s just occurred to me – it’s always ‘others’ who do wrong, it’s never ‘me’ who does wrong. But that’s not true. You and I, each one of us, has the potential either to do good or to do evil. The problem is that when I ‘do evil’, it’s always for a good reason and it’s therefore justified in my mind. When someone does evil to me, though, it’s always evil, regardless of the intention of the person enacting it. In such a mental environment, the weed of evil can – and does – thrive. Only when I turn that ‘natural approach’ upside down, looking for evil in my own heart and looking for good in other people’s hearts, can things change for the better. Personally, I have adopted from St Ignatius of Loyola the attitude that can best be described as to ‘assume someone’s benevolence unless proven otherwise.’ Thanks to such an attitude, and with only a few exceptions to prove the rule, I have discovered that there are virtually no individuals who want to be perceived as bad. Perhaps you might wish to test out that rule for yourself.