Saturday, July 18, 2026

Heavenly Minded and Earthly Good: A Reflection on Matthew 13.24-30, 36-43

Weeding out Judgment - A Sermon on Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43; Parable of the  Wheat and Weeds - Interrupting the Silence

RCL Proper 16A

19 July 2026

 

Saint Helen’s Anglican Church

Vancouver BC

 

Tending the garden given to us

         I have a confession to make.  Although I admire and sometimes even envy those folks whose homes are surrounded with gorgeous gardens and well-manicured lawns, I am not one of those people.  I try my best to keep things under some control, but no one would ever put my home on the cover of Better Homes and Gardens except as a cautionary tale. 

 

         For many years I have borne a light burden of guilt, but recently I have been given a reason to lay that burden aside – at least for some of the time.  You may know that we are facing a crisis – there is a serious decline in bee populations with a potentially disastrous effect on our food production and those very gardens I envy.  The causes are manifold and some are linked to global climate change as well as environmental pollution.  But there is one small thing we can do:  let your dandelions blossom.

 

         I have often seen dandelions as a metaphor for the kingdom of God.  They are resilient and they spread their seeds far and wide.  They will spring up in places that no other plant will.  Despite all the best efforts of gardeners throughout the world, dandelions continue to blossom.  But there is something else about them.  Dandelions are among the first plants to flower in the spring.  As the bees awake from hibernation, dandelions often provide them with their first meal.  By allowing our dandelions to blossom in the early spring, we are doing our bees great service.  

 

You have heard said, but I say to you.

         One of the things that we frequently hear Jesus say in the Gospels is this:  ‘You have heard said, but I say to you . . . .’  Well, today I am going to offer a reflection that may seem to diverge somewhat from what Jesus says about the parable of the wheat and the weeds.

 

         You have heard Jesus say that the good seed are the children of God and the bad seed the children of the evil one.  And so we have believed and taught for many generations. But the dandelions have taught me that there might be another way of looking at this parable, one that does not have such an either/or interpretation.

 

         Discerning what is the good seed is not difficult.  Whenever we see someone who is practicing a Christ-like life, whose love of God reveals itself in self-giving love of neighbour, who builds bridges rather than walls, who respects the dignity of every human being, then we know that we are witnessing the good seed of the kingdom.

 

         I dare say that discerning what is the bad seed is also not so difficult.  When leaders care more about self-interest and less about the common good, when the powerful use any means to secure their power at the expense of others, when communities embrace division rather than unity, then we know we are witnessing the bad seed that only denies God’s sovereignty and human dignity.

 

         But there are moments when we are less certain.  Rather than rush into judgement about what is the good seed and what is the bad seed, might the parable also be counselling us to practice patient discernment.  There is wisdom in the householder’s words:  ‘Let both of them grow together until the harvest, and at harvest time I will tell the reapers, Collect the weeds first . . . ‘  When the time is right, we might discover that some of what might have, at first glance, been thought weeds, when they might actually be dandelions, providing an unexpected source of grace.

 

         I love Paul’s words in the 8th chapter of Romans:  “I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory about to be revealed to us.  For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the children of God . . . . But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.” (Romans 8.18-19, 25)  We wait eagerly and yet patiently for what will emerge from the soil of our lives.

 

         Soon Sebastian will arrive and take up his role as a member of the leadership of this Parish.  Just like the householder, the lay and ordained leaders of this Parish will wait to see what emerges from the variety of seeds that have been sown in our midst.  In some cases, we will be able to discern quickly what is life-giving and what is not.  In others, we will have to wait patiently to discern what fruit they will bear.  But led by the Spirit, we can wait and trust that God is working the divine purpose in us, through us and for us.

  

O God of unchangeable power and eternal light,

look favourably on your whole Church,

that wonderful and sacred mystery.

By the effectual working of your providence,

carry out in tranquillity the plan of salvation.

Let the whole world see and know

that things which were cast down are being raised up,

and things which had grown old are being made new,

and that all things are being brought to their perfection

by him through whom all things were made,

your Son Jesus Christ our Lord.  Amen.

 



[i] Genesis 28.10-19a; Psalm 139.1-11, 22-23 (BAS); Romans 8.12-25 ; Matthew 13.24-30, 36-43.


Saturday, July 4, 2026

Whose Service Is Perfect Freedom: Reflections for the 6th Sunday after Pentecost

 

RCL Proper 14A [i]

5 July 2026

 

Saint Helen’s Anglican Church

Vancouver BC

 

Editing matters.

            For most of my career I have been an editor of theological journals, liturgical texts and graduate students’ papers.  Most readers of books and essays are unaware of the importance of editors.  We read the printed word differently with an eye to clarity of expression so that the reader has the best possible experience.            

            Some years ago, when I was in the midst of a particularly difficult editing task, a colleague suggested that I read Lynne Truss’ book, Eats, Shoots and Leaves:  The Zero Tolerance Approach to Punctuation.  Her book begins with a joke:  ‘A panda walks into a bar, eats some peanuts, pulls out a gun and shots into the air.  Then he leaves.  The bartender, quite rightly disturbed by this, chases the panda, stops him and says, “What was that all about?”  The panda pulls a copy of an encyclopedia article out of his shoulder bag and reads the following:  “A panda eats, shoots and leaves” ’.  The presence of a misplaced comma between ‘eats’ and ‘shoots’ explains the panda’s behaviour.  Remove the comma and you have a gentler description:  What do pandas eat?  They eat shoots and leaves.

            Over the past several weeks, we’ve been listening to Paul’s wrestling with a question that has theological significance:  What makes a Christian a Christian?  And grammar matters.

 

Faith before works

            Paul has been writing to a community that he has never visited and that is being wracked by disputes about the relationship between Jewish law and practice and the influx of non-Jewish believers in Christ.  Some people seem to be saying this:  If you behave in such and such a way including following Jewish law and practice, then you are a Christian.  Paul sees this as an impediment to the inclusion of non-Jewish believers.  Paul turns the sentence around and says this:  If you believe in what God has done in Jesus of Nazareth, then you will follow in the ways taught and embodied in Jesus.  

            Paul understands that how we live our lives has greater integrity when it is rooted in what we believe, what has become beloved to us.  Actions do matter to Paul, but actions that are not fuelled by our choice to be disciples of Jesus can lead us towards judgementalism and self-righteousness rather than love of neighbour. 

            We find this understanding of the life of discipleship in the baptismal covenant we proclaim and re-affirm at every baptism and confirmation.  It is a covenant that reminds us of the danger of separating our love of Christ from our actions that arise from that love.  It is a covenant that seeks to empower us to keep judgementalism and self-righteousness at bay.

 

·      We persevere in resisting evil because we know that often fall into sin and need to repent and return to the Lord.

·      We love our neighbours as ourselves because Christ comes to us in them.

·      We strive for justice and peace because we recognize how we so often fail to respect the dignity of every human being.

·      We strive to safeguard the integrity of God’s creation because this fragile earth is our island home and failure to care is a form of self-harm.

 

But it is not by doing these things that we become Christians.  It is because we are Christians that we do these things.  The wellspring of discipleship is the image of God found in each one of us.

 

An easy yoke and a light burden

            It is this way of reading Paul that helps me understand what may be behind one of Jesus’ sayings that I have always struggled to understand.  Last week you heard me preach on the centrality of love of neighbour in our walk of faith and how difficult that love is, especially in our highly partisan and siloed world.  So it is that I have always struggled to interpret these words of Jesus:  “Come to me, all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.   Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” [ii] 

            If I look at this passage from the perspective of Paul’s opponents in Rome, then there is no easy yoke nor light burden.  Trying to love my neighbour, to be forgiving, to work for peace and justice, to care for the earth become a to-do list that becomes overwhelming.  I remember when a classmate of mine was bemoaning all that he had to do in the coming months.  Another classmate told him to remember that God never gives us more than we can bear.  My friend responded, ‘Well, God has seriously over-estimated my ability!’ 

            But if I look at this passage from Paul’s perspective, then the yoke does seem easier and the burden lighter.  It is not the list of my accomplishments that matters, but how my love of Christ and choice to be a disciple fuels whatever efforts I make to manifest the life of the Spirit in my everyday affairs.  The yoke is easy because I am yoked to Christ and to all who believe in Christ.  The burden is light because I do not carry it alone; With Christ and with you we carry a burden of compassion, joy and open-handedness rather than an onerous burden of unending drudgery.

            Chesley Harmon, a pastor of the Christian Reformed Church in Langley, writes, “In our cultural moment, judgementalism is being sold to us as good judgement. . . . As we become so entrenched against one another, . . . we become more and more judgemental without actual information.  I wonder how many of us are aware of how wearying it is to carry such a way of being in the world.  Jesus’ way of compassion and curiosity may seem hard to follow, but it turns out to be much lighter a load.” [iii]

 

Trusting the editor

            My friends, editing does matter.  How we word our faith and then write it in the daily conduct of our lives matters.  What gives me hope and confidence is that there is an Editor at work whose wisdom exceeds my own.  Sometimes all we can do is recite the alphabet of faith and trust that the Spirit will fashion the Word from the letters.  At that seems to me to be an easy yoke and a light burden to bear.



[i] Genesis 24.34-38, 42-49, 58-67; Psalm 45.11-18 (BAS); Romans 7.15-25a; Matthew 11.16-19, 25-30.

 

[ii] Matthew 11.28-30 (NRSVue).