Pulling Weeds- Thoughts on last week's gospel

The Gospel for last Sunday was the parable of the wheat and the tares. For intellectual honesty's sake, I also included the two parables of the kingdom which are recorded between the parable of the wheat and tares and Jesus' explanation of the same. Pastoral experience has taught me that attempting to "pull weeds" in an institutional setting, be it in the church, in the military, or in the schoolhouse, is extremely difficult and generally prone to failure. Institutional inertia and personalities and relationships are just too firmly entrenched. Efforts at "compulsary reform by removal" are just more trouble than they are worth as a general rule. The distract us from our true mission and create animosities that can last for years. At the end of the day, control of property, or people, or power is just not worth the effort. It is best that we leave the Lord's work to the Lord, and get about carrying out our own commission, namely to serve Him faithfully in such a way that others are drawn into this relationship which we know in Jesus Christ.

The ongoing hubub in global Anglicanism in general and in the Episcopal Church in particular is a wonderful example. As a traditionalist and a pietist, it sometimes seems very apparent that my "side" (if one may be permitted to use that term) has lost this game long ago. In my lifetime, the majority of the clergy and laity of the Episcopal Church will never employ the rule of thumb that Biblical injunctions ought to be taken literally and at face value unless there is overwhelming textual or traditional evidence to the contrary. For several years, I lost a lot of sleep over this situation. And it made not one bit of difference. It merely distracted me from fulfilling my mission to live as a Christian in a fallen world, and to live in such a way that people are drawn to a personal relationship with Jesus Christ.

All of which brings me to yesterday's garden chore. At the entrance to our farm is a rather longish bed planted with red creeping roses and backed by dwarf alberta spruce. With the recent rain and heat, the weeds had shall we say, triumphed. My task was to remove said weeds. The particular type of rose in question is noted not only for mounds of blooms all summer, but for innumerable short, razorlike thorns. Weed removal is a rather painful exercise in blood donation. From fingertips to elbows, red slashes, often with a slight hint of infection, cover my arms today. Creeping roses, unlike young wheat, are not bothered in the least by weed removal. Their roots are deep and well established. And as a result of my rather painful labours, the bed looks pretty nice, almost the way I had originally envisioned it. As I considered Jesus' admonition about letting the tares grow with the wheat, his admonition about taking care of the beam in my own eye before worrying about the speck in my neighbor's came to mind. I don't really know where my neighbor is spiritually. Perhaps he is well established like the rose, or perhaps he is fragile and delicate, like early wheat. I must respect him and trust God to work in his heart. But I know my own strengths and weaknesses, and the tares in my life, tares which if left unpulled, may well cost me my soul, must be removed if I am to prosper with God. And so, with His help and by His grace, I go about the hot, and difficult, and dirty, and sometimes painful work of weeding my own garden, that my life might be of encouragement to those around me as they enter into the same tasks.

To be a priest is to represent not only the people to God, but to represent God to the people. May our Saviour give me wisdom to constantly work on the weeds in my own life, and to lovingly and consistantly provide an example which will encourage others to do the same in their own.