Thoughts on Weeds

A couple of thoughts from the sermon on “Weeds”…

It was a good reminder of the dangers of worshipping “wheat.” Of putting any mentor or Bible teacher or missionary or similar seeming spiritual giant on a pedestal, thoughtlessly taking their word for gospel truth and mindlessly imitating their example. Even in the field of faith the tares are growing, and we need to be discerning. It’s not good enough to pick a good person and fashion our lives after him or her. There’s only One worthy of our unquestioning loyalty and veneration.

It was also a good reminder that “we have a yard, not a lawn.” That’s the oft-repeated saying of my brother-in-law, also our neighbor. People in subdivisions and city neighborhoods have lawns, Dan says, but we who live in the country and mow several acres of grass have yards. We don’t even plan to pull out all the dandelions and other assorted weeds - not if we want to get anything else done in the short Erie summer! Same for this ole earth, and for our individual lives. We’ve been planted in a yard, not a lawn. God has no intentions of weeding out all the tares – He’s letting us all grow together. I’m pretty sure the enemy is always pointing out the bad grass to Him, how well is it growing, how it is crowding out the good stuff and making a good showing… but the summer is short, says Jesus’ parable. The harvest is coming, the Day of Distinction, when His yard will become a lawn, perfect in beauty, without the tiniest sprout of a weed. Til then, bloom in His yard, by His grace, without insisting on perfect surroundings.

In my college days, a couple of us students were hired by a lawyer who had a fondness for gardening, and given a number of flower beds to weed. But neither of us knew much about flowers, and on what was not a Day of Distinction, my co-worker pulled out what was to the lawyer a very uncommon and prized plant. It hadn’t looked all that special, but it was, and suddenly my co-worker’s services were no longer needed.

That event reminds me that as for this world we live in, there’s nobody qualified to weed here, either. We unable to distinguish weeds from wheat. Even if we could, that prickly thornbush we long to grab by the throat and throttle with pleasure may be to the Gardener a prize in the making, just awaiting His transforming touch…

Therefore let us live by the Rule of Saint Benedict, and welcome everyone who enters our lives as if they were Christ Himself. As if they were tall, golden wheat growing on the perfect lawn of Heaven. For one day they just might be.