Parables of the Kingdom: Matthew 25:14-30

THE PARABLE OF THE TALENTS:

A Story About Risk and Faith

 

There are a lot of risks in life. You can go to college, study hard, graduate with honors, and then find that your chosen field doesn’t have any openings. Or there may be openings, but there are many qualified applicants including one whose dad works at the company. You are more qualified, but you don’t have the connections. 

            Life is a risk. Ask our farmers this year. Rip open a bag of seed (that’s a risk) and plant a crop. You hope for a harvest. The risk is crop failure. There may be too much rain, or as is the case this year, not enough. 

            Life is full of risks. And we must decide if the risk is worth the bother. I took a risk in crossing the “friend zone” line and shared my growing love for Sharon. She was a really good friend, and I didn’t want to lose that friendship. But my heart was telling me to go for it – to risk the friendship for something more. 

            We must take risks, or we will never move forward in life. But it can be frustrating. You would think that if you plan carefully, work hard, and play by the rules, success should be guaranteed. But it’s not always. Sometimes we fail. We risk and we lose. Wouldn’t it be nice if we could just make decisions without risk and succeed every time? We can’t for two reasons: we are not all-powerful, and we are not all-knowing. In other words, we’re not God. 

            Risk, however, is at the heart of discipleship. Jesus said, “…whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it,” (Matt. 16:25). To follow Jesus is to risk losing reputation, safety, even your life.

            Jesus told a simple parable about a master who goes away on a trip and gives a lot of money to his servants. It’s one story in a series of three that Jesus uses to respond to a big question: How will we recognize the end of the world? (24:3). Jesus doesn’t answer the question. Instead, he tells his disciples how they can be ready for his return and for the end of the world. Spoiler alert: It involves taking a risk. 

            Follow along in Matthew 25:14-30 as we study the elements of this parable and what they mean.

 

The Master Risks Entrusting Money to Servants (14-15)

 

Jesus’ story opens with a man going on a journey and entrusting a great deal of money to his servants. 

            There are two details Bible readers get hung up on as they read this story. First, in our culture and language a talent is a skill, an aptitude, or a natural ability – like playing piano. So, we trip over that word and allow it to confuse the interpretation and application of the parable. A talent in the first century was NOT a skill, gift, or ability, but a weight or measure, usually of copper, silver, or gold. It was about 30 kg. A talent was money, a lot of money. 

            But surely it represents something like a gift? Yes, but I would say in advance that it represents FAITH. More on that later.

            The second detail that we trip over is that the master gives money “each according to his ability.” This is often interpreted as one Christian receiving more spiritual gifts than another or more responsibility than another. Don’t get hung up on that one phrase. It’s a story whose larger point is immensely more important than this detail. 

            One preacher I usually like to follow commented on this saying: “It’s the same with us. God gives to each of us according to our abilities. There’s a reason not all of us are rich and famous or in positions of power or authority. God knows what you can handle and what you cannot. Some of us are more limited in our abilities. Some of us can handle much more.” Do you agree with this?

             I don’t! This is simply not true. Many Christians have been gifted with power, authority, wealth, and other gifts, who have completely abused and mishandled these gifts. They have crashed and burned spiritually because the responsibility of these gifts was too much for them. Ravi Zacharias, Bruxey Cavey, Bill Hybels, and many more brothers have proven this interpretation to be false. 

            Let us simply say this: The master went away leaving a lot of money with his servants and it was a risky decision.

 

The Servants Risk Investing the Money (16-17, 19-23)

 

Do you want to know something funny about the servants? The master gave them money, but never told them what to do with it. 

            What we read is an immediate response. “He who had received the five talents went at once and traded with them, and he made five talents more,” (16). Either there was an understanding with the master that this was expected, or he took a risk to please his master. The second servant did the same thing. The trust was different, but the rate of return was the same: they doubled the master’s money. 

            What if the first servant had traded with the five talents and earned only three more talents? Would the master have been just as happy? You may think it doesn’t matter – it probably doesn’t. However, the point of the parable is that the two servants DID SOMETHING with what they were entrusted. 

            There was a definite risk involved in this venture. What if the servant had failed and lost all the money? Judging from what happened to the third servant, the consequences may have been severe. That’s not the point either. What we see instead in the first two servants is a model for enthusiastic discipleship. They were not going to waste their lives sitting in fear of the risks. They took what was given and did something.

            Check out the reward for their success. The master returns to settle accounts and is pleasantly surprised to find two productive servants. He commends them saying to both, “Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a little; I will set you over much. Enter into the joy of your master,” (21 & 23). 

            I have been impressed that the biblical word “good,” as in Genesis 1 when God created the world, does not mean “perfect” (though it can), but “useful.” These servants were useful to their master; they took what was given to them and worked with it. 

            Then when the master saw how “useful” the servants were to him, he gave them back the talents and implied “do it again.” The reward for reliability for the servant is not to be set free from responsibility but to be given more of it. That’s not a bad thing; that’s an honor. These servants were a delight to the master and earned his favor.

 

The One Servant Feared Failure and Took No Risk (18, 24-27)

 

The third servant took the one talent he had been given and buried it. He did not want to take a risk and fail. And it seems odd that he would be so honest with his master and telling him what a rotten person he is. No groveling. No wild excuses. He straight up says, “You’re a hard man…I was afraid…I hid your talent in the ground,” (25).

            There is no doubt that the parable focuses on the servant that risks nothing. Who does the “wicked and slothful servant” represent? In Matthew 23, Jesus blasted the scribes and pharisees for making it hard for people to find God. They added laws to laws and buried the truth under tradition. The useless servant buried his talent in the ground only to hand it back to the master exactly as it was. The goal of the scribes and pharisees was to keep the law exactly as it was – “to build a fence around the law.” Any new interpretation was condemned. 

            In this parable, Jesus taught that there can be no growth in faith without adventure, without risk. If you don’t risk failure, you guarantee failure. If you’re a student and are afraid to start writing an exam unless you’re absolutely certain you will get every answer correct, you’ll never start writing and you’ll fail. If you need a job but won’t apply anywhere for fear of being rejected, you will remain unemployed. If you want to get married but you are waiting until you know beyond a doubt that the marriage will be nothing but sweetness and light 24/7, you will remain single. And here’s the point of this parable: If you say you have faith in Jesus Christ, but do not take risks based on that faith, your faith is mere words. 

            The talent represents faith. I know this because if Madison doesn’t play the piano ever again, she’s not going to hell. But if you don’t act on your faith, the master will say, “What have you done with this gift of believing?”

            The Pharisees and scribes had everything they needed to build a vibrant faith. Paul wrote in Romans 9:1-5 (read). They had the scriptures, they had the prophets, they had the genetics linking them to Messiah, and they had Jesus himself. But they did not take a risk and work that faith out in life.

 

The Principle of Risk and Reward in the Kingdom (28-30)

 

Paul took the words of Jesus and identified a principle that the gospel teaches: sowing and reaping (2 Cor. 9:6; Gal. 6:7-8). Whatever you sow, that’s what you will reap. We find this in the parable as well. The good and faithful servants took what was given and made more of the same. Jesus said, “…to everyone who has will more be given, and he will have an abundance. But from the one who has not, even what he has will be taken away,” (29). 

            Jesus said this more than once, “…whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it,” (16:25; John 12:24-25). 

            Life is full of risks. The Bible even tells us that. When you don’t know what the future holds, it’s natural to feel anxious. But if you have a relationship with the one who knows the future, you see things differently, you can take risks. You have two choices: you can either sit in fear and keep your faith in a box, or you can take your faith and see what it looks like in the world at large. Take a risk. Try something. Feel free to fail. Leave the results in God’s hands. Life is an adventure full of challenges and risks, but faith helps us to take those risks. 

            The ultimate risk is trusting God for the hope of eternal life. Eternal life is found in trusting a God you can’t see, putting your faith in a Savior you can’t touch, and investing yourself in a future you can’t imagine. That’s faith in action. Faith means risking your life, betting everything on the power of Jesus Christ and his resurrection. 

 

I can’t say that I have taken risks every time I should have. I’m learning what faith means too. I haven’t got it figured out. 

            This week, Judy brought a man to see the table that Neil built and put in the meeting room. I noticed that this man’s left eye was seemingly damaged. Because of a book I’ve been reading about acting on faith, I thought about asking this man if he was blind in his left eye. If he said he was, I was going to ask if I could pray that the Lord would restore his sight. I know, crazy, right? 

            I’ve prayed for healing before without any dramatic results, so I hesitated. Would he think I was stupid? If he wasn’t healed would it wound his faith, if he had any? Would it turn him off from Christianity? But what if he was healed? Did I prevent him having the opportunity to see and to believe in the power of Jesus? Risky, isn’t it? 

            But I’m growing bolder. There is less to lose and much to gain. William Carey said, “Expect great things from God. Attempt great things for God.” 

            What is God asking you to do? What risks are you willing to take for the kingdom of God? 

            In conversation with a couple of people this week, I have discussed what it would look like to have the Holy Spirit fill this congregation. Different answers emerged: hunger for the Word, deeper prayer lives, love for the lost, openness to the Spirit’s moving in our midst. It is no secret I have prayed for a fresh filling of the Spirit in RFC. But are we open to such a movement? Are we willing to take the risk of what that means? What if we have to give something up? What if we have to move out of our comfort zones? 

            But what if we take a risk and get to experience a faith in Jesus Christ that moves mountains? Wouldn’t it be worth it? 

            A faith that is not tested is a faith that cannot be trusted. God is asking us to invest in our faith, to multiply it by trusting him and risking everything to follow Jesus. 

            Are you willing to take the risk with me?

 

                                                AMEN

 

 

Parables of the Kingdom: Matthew 22:1-14

“YOU’RE INVITED”

The Parable of the Wedding Feast

 

A wedding is probably the most happy and joyful event that people can attend. I’m not a big fan of weddings, yet I feel offended if I’m not invited to some. Though, I don’t enjoy them, I take it seriously to bear witness to the promises a couple makes to each other. It is an honor to be invited to such an important event and a joy to witness a couple begin their marriage. One does not say “no” easily to an invitation.

            Jesus tells a story about a wedding. It is outrageous. It is strange. It is a shocking parable. Here’s why:

·      A wedding reception is planned and none of the original guests who were invited attend. NONE!!

·      Reminders are sent out by messengers and the messengers are either ignored or killed. Imagine Lorie at Rosenort Post Office being lynched because she put a card in your mailbox about an upcoming wedding.

·      The father of the groom is so insulted that he kills the non-attenders and burns their town to the ground. 

·      When other guests are invited, one fellow is thrown out because he attends wearing shorts and a t-shirt. 

            A story like this is so unbelievable it’s hard to take literally. Yet Jesus wants us to take it seriously. Jesus says, “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who gave a wedding feast for his son…” Do we conclude then that God is an angry king who, if he doesn’t get his way, destroys his own people, burns their city, and throws guests in wrong clothing into utter darkness? That doesn’t fit with the God revealed by Jesus in his message of good news. 

            To be clear, this parable is about judgment, it just may not be judgment the way we think of judgment. What is this parable about? What are we supposed to learn? The short answer is: You’re invited to participate in the new kingdom Christ is establishing on earth – how will you respond to the invitation? How we respond is critical.

Two Kinds of Invitees (22:1-10)

 

Jesus compares the kingdom of heaven to a king who throws a wedding feast for his son. First, to be personally invited by the king to an event is in itself a great honor. Second, it’s a very special event, the wedding of his son. The twist in the story hits us immediately in the response of the guests. There are two kinds of invitees described in this parable.

Those who refuse to come – The king has a pre-arranged guest list. These people had been invited long before the feast was prepared since the king “sent his servants to call those who were invited,” (3a). They knew it was coming. They may not have known the date, but when the king calls, they were supposed to be ready. Yet in response to this first reminder, we are inexplicably told “they would not come,” (3b). 

            The king’s servants are not people to be ignored. Though they are slaves they are important people in the kingdom. So, to ignore them is a serious offense already. But the king demonstrates great patience and grace by calling the guests a second time. 

These guests of the king are no peasants; they are the elite of the kingdom, the people who are part of the inner circle and rule parts of the kingdom. We can assume this because Jesus told this parable to the chief priests and Pharisees who were questioning his authority. They were the people with the inside track on God; they were the ones who should have recognized the Messiah; they were the ones who God originally called into his kingdom. 

How do these privileged guests respond to the second summons? They have better things to do. It’s not important to me. I’m too busy. One has a farm; another has a business. In Luke’s version, a man has bought five yoke of oxen, and another married a wife. A literal translation of their refusal is “they wanted NOT to come.” These are passive reasons.

            There’s being passive (not caring); then there’s being Canadian or passive-aggressive (cursing someone behind their backs while smiling to their face). But these guests are downright aggressive – they kill the messengers! 

Those who do come – Following the bloody carnage that interrupts the wedding festivities, we find the king issuing new invitations. The king said, “The wedding feast is ready, but those who were invited were not worthy. Go therefore to the main roads and invite to the wedding feast as many as you find,” (8-9).

            Of the original guests, the king declares they were not worthy. There’s the judgment call. But it’s not based on what you would expect. If the chief priests and Pharisees (the pastors and college professors and college grads) are not worthy of the king’s invitation, who is?

            The servants go out and gather an indiscriminate collection of people from the streets, people with no special standing. They are the lowest social groups in society. As Jesus said earlier to the Pharisees, “…the tax collectors and the prostitutes go into the kingdom of God before you,” (21:31). There is a further jarring note in this ragtag group of new guests as the servants go out into the streets and bring “both bad and good” (10) into the wedding hall. 

            Judgment takes a strange turn. Those we deem worthy are not, and those who are homeless, jobless, and shiftless, are deemed worthy of being the king’s guests. Our idea of judgment probably rests on our assumption that God judges us in the same way we judge other people. Our judgment is one of exclusion. Who’s in and who’s out. Who makes the grade of spirituality and Christian piety in our estimation. What if God doesn’t look at it like that? What if Jesus’ story is supposed to shock us into seeing God’s judgment differently – a judgment of grace, acceptance, and invitation – a judgment of inclusion? 

What’s the difference between the first guests and the second batch? What makes the second group worthy? 

            Was the second group more deserving than the other? No, the first guests were the original recipients of the king’s invitation and favor. So were the second group of guests. They were all invited. They were all favored by the king, and none had done anything to deserve an invitation. 

            Did the king like the second group more than the first? No, if we examine the king’s motivation for throwing the feast, it’s that he just wanted people to come and share his joy for his son. He wants to throw a party and have people celebrate, be part of his kingdom, and rejoice in life. 

            Did it matter that the second group had good and bad folks in it? No, there is no distinction or judgment made on behavior, attitudes, or morals. The king sends his servants to find everyone and anyone. Invite them all. No exclusions. 

            There’s only one thing that separates the second group of guests from the first: Presence!! The second group showed up. They came to the feast! The first group “would not come” but the second group filled the wedding hall. 

            What does it mean to be present? It means making the king’s (God’s) invitation a priority. It means seeing God for who he is and not what we think he should be. It means opening our lives to receive the life he wants for us. It means giving up control of our lives to God and trusting his ways are for us. It means listening to God and really hearing him in Scripture and through the Spirit. It means letting go of our agendas and plans and believing that God’s plans are actually better. It means bringing all that we are and putting it before God such as it is. 

            If we are not truly present it is because we are going after our “businesses” and “farms” (see 22:5). We get caught up in the busy stuff and we are too tired, too distracted to be present before God. If we don’t earn it or work for it, we assume that it has no value. Grace is hard to receive then. That’s why the first group didn’t come to the banquet. 

            To just come and be a guest at the banquet is to be worthy before God. We just show up. It is in God’s presence that we discover what he thinks we are truly worth. Paul said it best, “…whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ…I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ…” (Phil. 3:7-8). He came with nothing because all his spiritual, theological, genetic, family lineage, works-based advantages were garbage compared to the riches of Christ Jesus. 

 

Breaking the Dress Code (22:11-13)

            

What about the guy who showed up without a wedding garment? 

            There are different interpretations on this matter. One interpretation implies that the king offered wedding clothes to all his guests and this guy preferred his t-shirt and shorts. In plain language, he came on his own merits and refused the gracious and righteous clothing of Christ. Another said that the guests were to go home and put on their best and come to the wedding. These are responding to the grace of Christ by working out their faith in deeds. Both have possibilities. 

            One thing that is peculiar is that the man in the wrong clothes is speechless. Why doesn’t he say anything? What if he had made his presence known to the king? What if he said:

·      I was hungry. I smelled the food. I trust you to feed me.

·      I was lonely. I saw the lights on. I trusted you to take me in.

·      I was thirsty. I knew there would be wine. I trusted you to give me a drink.

·      I was naked. I knew people would be well dressed. I trusted you to clothe me. 

·      I was sad and grieving. I heard music and laughter. I trusted you to share your joy.

·      I was empty. I saw abundance. I trusted you to fill me.

·      I was dying. I saw the door was open. I trusted you to give me life. 

             If he has said something, anything like this, it would have been enough. He would have shown up with all that he had and would have been present. Then the king would say, “My dear friend, I’m glad you got my invitation. Welcome here. You are worthy.” (Michael Marsh – An Open Invitation)

 

Jesus ends this story with a saying, “For many are called, but few are chosen,” (14). This phrase is both comforting and disturbing. It is comforting to believe that the only reason we are saved through faith in Christ is because God called us out of darkness. It is disturbing because we wonder why some are not chosen. All are invited, but some are not chosen. Why is it that some people who grew up in homes of faith rejected the seeds of the gospel? 

            If you want me to preach on the doctrine of election, I won’t. It is too mysterious a teaching to squeeze into a conclusion. At the same time, I think I have been talking about it this whole sermon long. 

            Jesus said, “No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him…” (John 6:44). It sounds as if those who do not believe were not chosen. 

            Charles Spurgeon said, “I believe in the doctrine of election, because I am quite certain that, if God had not chosen me, I should never have chosen him; and I am sure he chose me before I was born, or else he never would have chosen me afterwards; and he must have elected me for reasons unknown to me, for I never could find any reason in myself why he should have looked upon me with special love.” 

            My issue with teaching the doctrine of election is that some of you are sitting there wondering if you are worthy of God’s grace. You are wondering if you made it in. You are thinking of what you could do to be a better “wedding guest,” to be chosen. 

            In a moment we will celebrate the Lord’s Supper, a preview of the wedding feast of the Lamb and his Bride, the church. Do you have to do something to be worthy? Do you have to feel something mystical? No! Just show up! 

                                                            AMEN

Parables of the Kingdom: Matthew 18:10-14

HOPE FOR THOSE WHO STRAY

 

In the day-to-day rituals of life, it is easy to take God’s presence for granted. The discipline of prayer and seeking God amid routines can become another task to do. And as we feel our relationship with Jesus fading, we find it all too easy to fall into bad habits, sin. Before you know it, you have strayed, wandered from the God who loves you. Do you feel this? 

            Do you think you are the only one who strays from God?  I feel like I am sometimes.

            I am drawn to the words of Robert Robinson in his hymn, “Come thou fount of every blessing.” He wrote, “Let thy goodness, like a fetter, bind my wandering heart to thee. Prone to wander, Lord I feel it, prone to leave the God I love. Here’s my heart, O take and seal it; seal it for thy courts above.” 

            Acknowledging that the human heart is fickle and easily distracted, Robinson asks the Lord to chain his heart to the goodness of God so that he doesn’t forget how much God loves him. Robinson would say we are like Doug in the movie “Up,” a dog who could talk, but was always distracted by squirrels. We too are distracted by the activities that demand our attention. We are like sheep going astray by following our noses to greener grass unaware of how far we wander. 

            How does God react when you stray? Do you wonder if he still loves you? Do you question if he wants you back? Does he abandon you as you have abandoned him?

            Jesus answers these questions in the telling of the parable of the shepherd who leaves the 99 to seek the lost sheep. We all have days where we stray from the shepherd, but there is hope for those who stray. 

 

Who are “these little ones”? (10)

 

Jesus begins our text saying, “See that you do not despise one of these little ones…” (10a). To despise someone is the opposite of welcome in the broad sense. But in a more common sense, to despise these “little ones” is to not take them seriously, to consider them not worth your time and effort. But who are these little ones?

            When we read Scripture and try to find its meaning, we must turn first to context. Context is king in interpretation. Jesus first refers to “little ones” at the beginning of this chapter where we find the disciples arguing over which one of them is the greatest disciple. They did this a lot. Jesus responds by calling a little child to himself and puts the child in the center of the discussion. Then he says, “Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven,” (18:3-4). 

            Jesus physically sets this child in their view in hopes that the disciples would understand that his “little ones” are like this child who came when Jesus called. But the child also represents the attitude of anyone who comes to him in humble faith, like a child, not boasting of his goodness, capabilities, or status, not insisting on rights and privileges. When the child was called, he came because Jesus invited him. 

            Who is great in the kingdom of heaven? Not the people who are obvious and grab our attention. No, the people who are quiet, unnoticed, but humbly attentive to God. Don’t ignore these “little ones,” Jesus says, and don’t lead them into sin (5-6). Look after them and nurture their spiritual walk. 
[10b speaks of guardian angels – brief explanation]

[What happened to verse 11? Attend my class in fall]

 

God’s care for the wanderer (12-13)

 

Jesus illustrates God’s care for these “little ones” with a story about a shepherd. He begins by asking, “What do you think?” This is an invitation to reflect on the story and ask, “Is this true?” And the answer is a resounding “yes.” “If a man has a hundred sheep, and one of them has gone astray, does he not leave the ninety-nine on the mountains and go in search of the one that went astray?” (12). 

            We know what Jesus is driving at: the prophets used shepherd stories in the OT to illustrate God’s care for Israel, especially when they strayed. Jesus builds on that image applying it to his own disciples now. Because God loves us, he will risk everything to search us out and bring us back. 

            One question I have always pondered about the shepherd is this: Isn’t it irresponsible to leave 99 sheep unattended to go and find one lamb? 

            When the communists came to power in China in 1948, Dr. Andrew Roy was serving as a professor under the Presbyterian Church. Dr. Roy chose to stay in China, but he was soon placed under house arrest. He was interrogated for two years. His communist inquisitors kept trying to convince Dr. Roy that the teachings of Jesus were vastly inferior to those of Karl Marx and Mao Zedong. Jesus’ parable of the good shepherd was prominent in those interrogations. The communists insisted that to leave the ninety-nine in order to go after the one was irresponsible because the individual only had value as he or she contributed to the people. Jesus left the herd exposed to danger and failed in his primary task.

            Roy responded that by going after the one, Jesus gave the herd boundless security in that each of them knew “If I get lost, he will come after me.” A failure to go after the one would leave those same ninety-nine with the ultimate insecurity of realizing “If I get lost, he will leave me to die.” Risky? Yes! But the costly love given to the one assured the many. 

            Jesus goes looking for the one. In the Greek, the impression is that he goes on looking till he finds the sheep. It’s a picture that grabs you as to God’s love and compassion for you. The psalmist says, “God does not treat us as our sins deserve or repay us according to our iniquities,” (103:10). 

            Another question is: If the sheep is still wandering, does he or she really want to be found? I have often thought that it is a lamb that is tired from wandering, caught in a thicket, and fearful of the encroaching darkness of night, that finally cries out wanting to be found. Otherwise, the shepherd is looking for a moving target. Another psalmist wrote, “I have wandered away like a lost sheep; come and find me…” (119:176). 

            Andrew Bonar tells of how in the Highlands of Scotland, a sheep would often wander off into the rocks and get into places they can’t escape. A sheep may jump down to a ledge to get at some grass, but then find it cannot jump back up again. The shepherd hears them bleating but waits until they become faint and can’t stand. Why? Because if the sheep is spooked, they may jump off the ledge and be killed to get away from the rescue rope. 

            Like the sheep, we won’t go back to God until we have lost everything. If you are wandering, the shepherd will bring you back the moment you stop trying to save yourself and let him save you. And when you let him find you “he rejoices over” you exceedingly (13).

 

Sharing God’s concern for wanderers (14)

 

Jesus had one purpose in telling this parable. We can presume from it that God cares for the wanderer, the person who strays because of life’s struggles or the temptations of “greener grass.” God will bring them back if they wander and realize how lost they are. Jesus said, “It is not the will of my Father who is in heaven that one of these little ones should perish,” (14). 

            But the real reason Jesus shares this story is to teach his disciples to join him in caring for the least of these, the “little ones” and pay attention to them. You and I are commissioned in this story to notice when the fellow sheep in our congregation goes missing.

            There are hurting people in our midst who quietly suffer with doubts of faith. We don’t know what their questions are or what they are hurting over. Maybe they don’t talk much or share their hearts, but we can be present with them and let them know they are not invisible. At the right time, we need to ask each other, “How are you and Jesus?” Make sure you have time for the answer.

 

God cares for the wanderer. He cares for you when you stray and will come and look for you. He’s looking for you now. 

            Have you heard the story of Shrek, the sheep that evaded capture and shearing for six years? Carol Palmer relates the story of how this sheep in New Zealand refused to go to the shearing shed and went off and found a cave to live in. Did anyone miss Shrek? He was part of a flock of 17, 000 sheep. So, no. After six years, the shepherd who found him didn’t recognize that Shrek was actually a sheep. His wool was so long it covered most of his face and legs. He could barely see to walk. 

            The shepherd took Shrek back to the shearing shed and gave him his first haircut in six years. What they cut off weighed 60 lbs, enough wool to make twenty men’s suits. 

            We are so much like Shrek’s story, for “we all like sheep have gone astray,” (Isaiah 53:6). You would think that the straying would stop after being rescued by the good shepherd. But we find ourselves straying from time to time. Don’t think that he won’t come looking again. He will. It is in the nature of our shepherd to keep coming after us when we get lost in our desires and distractions. He has made a way for us to come back again, to be forgiven again, “(Christ) himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness. By his wounds you have been healed. For you were straying like sheep but have now returned to the Shepherd and Overseer of your souls,” (1 Peter 2:24-25).

 

                                                            AMEN

            

Parables of the Kingdom: Matthew 13: 24-30; 36-43

THERE’R WEEDS IN THE WHEAT!!!

 

When you have a field more riddled with weeds than with wheat, what do you do? Do you spray herbicide over the whole thing and reseed the field? 

            In 1942, Britain was being threatened by Nazi attacks and the threat of invasion. To strike back, the Brits came up with an idea for weaponizing anthrax and using it against German agriculture. The plan would have killed in such an indiscriminate manner that it would have lived up to its name: Operation Vegetarian. 

            Anthrax is an infectious disease that kills at a high rate. The British planned to drop anthrax-infested cattle cakes from bombers onto grazing cattle. The cows would eat the cakes and die while spreading the disease. This plan would wipe out the German food supply, kill many people, and starve the rest. Germans would be too scared to eat meat, thus the name “Operation Vegetarian.” How demoralizing! 

            The problem with this indiscriminate poisoning is that, yes it would kill Nazis, but it would also kill women, children, Christians, the elderly, and any number of non-Nazis. It was a desperate plan. It was a horrible plan. Even the island that the military tested this weapon on remained infected until 1990. Fortunately, Winston Churchill decided not to use the weapon.

            The question is: How do you respond to evil people?

            The Parable of the Weeds is a story Jesus told to illustrate how people who love God coexist with people who love the world. Many of us wonder how we are to respond to evil in our midst. We also want to know what God is doing about the wickedness of our generation. 

            Jesus came proclaiming the kingdom of God and announced that it had arrived in his very person. God’s kingdom has invaded this world and begun to move. But if the kingdom has already come, and Jesus is at the right hand of the Father reigning as king, why is there so much evil in the world? Why is evil allowed to exist? What is God’s plan for this world? That’s what the Parable of the Weeds seeks to answer.

 

What do we do with the weeds? (13:24-30)

 

Jesus tells a story about wheat and weeds. It’s very simple. A farmer goes out to sow seeds in his field and later that night his enemy sows weeds in the same field. Wheat and weeds grow up together. It takes a while to notice and when the servants do, it’s too late. If the servants pull the weeds, they will tear out the wheat as well. Leave them both, the farmer says.

            Notice how Jesus tells the story. “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a man…” Hold on! You have to be careful in reading parables. Is the kingdom of heaven like a man? No, we read on, “…a man who sowed good seed…”But don’t stop there! It’s not just a man sowing seed in his field; there’s an enemy who comes and sows weeds in the field. Then there are servants who discuss the problem with the farmer/owner of the field. So, when Jesus says, “The kingdom of heaven is like…” he means: the whole story I’m about to tell you. You must hear and understand the whole story. What Jesus is saying is: the kingdom of heaven is like two sowers, one who sows good seed in his field, and an enemy who comes along and sows weeds in the field. 

            By the way, this is a rotten thing to do, isn’t it? Sowing weeds in your neighbor’s wheatfield? 

            In Palestine, it actually happened. If you made an enemy of someone, one way they could make your life miserable is to sow weeds in your field. Roman law criminalized this practice, it was so common. 

            Weeds are a pain. At least we can identify dandelions; some weeds are sneaky and don’t look like weeds. These weeds in the parable were likely bearded darnel (like foxtail) and looked like wheat in its early stages. It grows at the same speed. It reaches the same height. If harvested together, it spoils the crop, making the harvest inedible. Only when it matures can you tell the difference. But by that point the roots of the good plants and the weeds have become intertwined. To pull one out is to pull the other. 

            This is why Jesus’ farmer tells his servants, “Let both grow together until the harvest, and at harvest time I will tell the reapers, ‘Gather the weeds first and bind them in bundles to be burned, but gather the wheat into my barn,’”(30). Jesus is not concerned with proper agricultural practices; he is making a point. Just so you know, his audience would have been shocked at his instruction to let wheat and weeds grow together. But now he’s got their attention.

            What do we do with the weeds? Let them grow! 

 

Why it’s too soon to use Roundup (36-39)

 

Have you ever told someone a joke that the other person didn’t get? I was visiting with a group of low-German speaking youth in Paraguay who were laughing hysterically. I could tell it had something to do with cheese. I didn’t care. But one my teammates decided to translate the conversation for me. There were twenty sets of eyes staring at me waiting for my reaction. I gave a half-hearted chuckle and tried to disappear. 

            Jesus didn’t explain his parable to the large crowd. Try reading it without the explanation. If you read the explanation, you may to be tempted to forget the main point and focus on how those weedy people are going to get theirs on the day of judgment. We wonder less about what it means to be wheat among the weeds and more about that day when the roll is called up yonder and the weeds are finally burned. 

            When they left the crowds behind, the disciples asked Jesus to explain the parable to them (13:36). “Tell us the punchline of the joke.” There are seven elements in the parable:

The sower of the good seed is the Son of Man (Jesus). In the parable of the four soils, the sower is not identified. But now we know that these parables are about people’s responses to Jesus’ proclamation of the kingdom of heaven. 

The field is the world. Not the church. We can safely say that there are weeds in the church, but the seeds are sown throughout the world. Spoiler: the seed is the gospel, and the gospel is for everyone, not just the people who get it. 

The good seed represents the children of the kingdom (sons and daughters). In the Parable of the Sower the seed was the Word of God, and it is powerful enough to change the world. Yet it is also oddly vulnerable in that it can be snatched away by birds, burned by the sun, and choked by thorns. Still, the kingdom is the single most powerful and important reality in the world. It is not flashy or always obvious. Apparently, God would rather work behind the scenes. He changes hearts in a quiet, gracious way rather than forcefully. The growth of this kingdom will extend throughout the world, but it will not exist in a pure state. The weeds will always be there.

The weeds are children of the evil one. And the enemy is the devil, a spiteful being who tries to spoil the good work of the Master and ruin his harvest. He is a spoiler. He is never constructive, but always destructive in his activities.   

The harvest is the end of the age, and the reapers are angels who will do the work of sorting out the wheat and the weeds. 

            Now if you take these elements “as” is you may miss the essence of the parable: let the wheat and weeds grow together. It requires discernment in this present age to weed out evil and this is not what Jesus called us to do. That’s why it’s too soon to pull out the Roundup and spray some weeds.

 

Lessons about “Roundup” and the Kingdom (40-43)

 

You may have guessed by now that the theme of this parable is judgment. A day of the Lord is coming when the children of the devil (those who chose to live for themselves and not for God) will be judged. What Jesus is telling us is that the task of judging does not belong to us.

            We may assume that we are more than qualified to start sorting out the weeds from the wheat. We know a weed when we see one. When we are in the presence of certain people, we can tell the good ones from the bad ones. We can tell who’s trying and we can tell when some are in outright rebellion before God. We judge by our customs, by our tradition, by our interpretation of Scripture…But Jesus is pleading with us, “I am asking you not to do this. You will never get it right. Leave the harvest to God.” 

            Our first lesson then is that it is hard for you and me to distinguish between those who are in the kingdom and those who are not. Would you have discerned that the woman at the well, a woman with five ex-husbands and a live-in lover was a candidate for the kingdom? Would you have guessed that a religious zealot who relished killing Christians would end up being an apostle to the Gentiles? Would you have ever imagined that a KKK white-supremacist and murderer (Thomas Tarrants) would one day pastor a multiracial church in Washington DC? Can you tell me who’s in and who’s out?

            We are taught then not to be quick with judgments. If the servants had their way, they would have torn out the weeds and probably damaged the wheat as well. Judgment has to wait for the day of the harvest. A woman may make a terrible decision, and then redeem herself by the grace of God by making the rest of her life a lovely offering to God. A man may live a seemingly devout Christian life and then throw it all away in sin. Who can see the big picture of a life but God? 

            The lesson is incomplete, however, if we fail to recognize that a day of judgment is coming. “Just as the weeds are gathered and burned with fire, so will it be at the end of the age. The Son of Man will send his angels, and they will gather out of his kingdom all causes of sin and all lawbreakers,” (40-41). We asked, “Why doesn’t God do something about evil the world?” He will do something. But the Lord is patient, as Peter said, “not wishing that any should perish,” but repent and believe in Jesus (2 Peter 3:9). 

            Judgment will come. We read about judgment in part in the book of Revelation where John records that, “…the city has no need of the sun or moon to shine on it, for the glory of the Lord gives it light, and it’s lamp is the Lamb…But nothing unclean will ever enter it, nor anyone who does what is detestable or false, but only those who are written in the Lamb’s book of life,” (Rev. 21:23-27). The city is a metaphor for the community of followers of Jesus who will live forever in the presence of God. This is the wheat. But there are no weeds. Men and women who reject Jesus as King of their lives and instead live in the passions of their sins will not live. They are the weeds that are burned up. 

            No one really wants to talk about the judgment. The unchurched don’t want to hear about it. Believers are uncomfortable bringing it up. It’s not a pleasant topic. I, for one, do not want to use it “scare the hell out of people” and into the kingdom, as was the practice of 20^th century crusades. We must focus on the love of God in Christ for men and women. But the truth is, people need to know there is judgment coming for living a life of hell. How we tell them is critical. Is it with vengeance or with sadness? 

            We also want to share with them the hope that we have. I believe that Jesus, in verse 43, took his cue from the book of Daniel where a beautiful picture of resurrection is expressed. Daniel wrote, “And many of those who sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake, some to everlasting life, and some to shame and everlasting contempt. And those who are wise shall shine like the brightness of the sky above; and those who turn to righteousness, like the stars forever and ever,” (12:2-3). 

 

As we read the Parable of the Weeds, we need to remember what Jesus intended for his audience. The parable is not about having all the wrongs that we have experienced paid for in swift justice. It’s not hoping for the Day of the Lord so that our enemies will get what’s coming to them. The parable is about “TODAY.” It’s about how we react and respond to the presence of weeds in our world. 

            If we consider the farmer in the parable, he seems to believe that the weeds won’t threaten the wheat as the two grow together. The real threat is how the wheat reacts to the weeds. The danger is not being in the presence of sin, but trying to root out all the sin we see. There are enough stories of churches excommunicating people to know that spiritual abuse comes easy to the so-called righteous. 

            The challenge of the parable of the weeds, the challenge to the church, is to resist reacting to sin in a manner that harms someone who is close to the kingdom. No, we do not turn a blind eye to sin. But neither should we respond with anger and rejection. 

            As Robert Farrar Capon points out, in verse 30 the master tells the servants just to “let things be” the Greek word used in this expression is the same word in the Lord’s Prayer for “forgiveness.” 

            Hmmm…forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us? That’s how we respond to weeds.

 

                                                AMEN