“That’s All I Need to See!”

Jesus told them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like someone who planted good seed in his field. While people were sleeping, an enemy came and planted weeds among the wheat and went away. When the stalks sprouted and bore grain, then the weeds also appeared.”

“The servants said to him, ‘Do you want us to go and gather them?'” [Matthew 13:24-26, 28b].

Jane sometimes says, “Tom has 4,012 stories and he tells them over and over again.” One of my absolute favorites occurred a bit more than three years ago. In March 2017, grandson Everett — son of Blair and Sarah — was to be baptized at Trinity Avenue Presbyterian Church in Durham. It was a special day for the Robinson clan. Not only would Everett receive the special watermark of our Faith, but Pastor Katie had invited me to lead our worship that day in order that I might assist her during Everett’s baptism.

The service would begin at 11:00 a.m., but I had determined to arrive a few minutes past 10. On my way into town, I decided I’d get one more cup of coffee and a little breakfast, so I pulled into a McDonalds located not too far from Carolina Arbors, where we were living at that time. I determined to save some time by moving through the drive-thru lane, noticing there were only three or four cars ahead of me. “Not too bad,” I thought to myself.

A minute later, still several car lengths from the microphone where I’d place my order, I lowered my window so that I’d be ready to shout my choice to the crew inside. I was suddenly bombarded by booming music emitted from the car ahead of me. In spite of the fact that there was a chill in the air — it was March, after all — the driver, a young man in his early 20s, had all four windows down, blasting out the decibels as if there was no tomorrow. I, of course, had been righteously listening to WCPE’s “Sacred Music” program; the young man’s “noise” now drowning out my Bach. I seethed. “How inconsiderate of that young man to inflict his music tastes upon me? I bet he isn’t going to church,” I thought to myself.

I determined to engage in a duel of sorts, so I pushed the bootie to lower my driver’s side window all the way and I turned up my sacred melody a bit, although it did nothing to cancel the vibes coming from the car ahead. Both his car and mine seemed to be throbbing to the beat of his music; the vehicles ignoring the lovely melody coming from the small speakers of my little Honda Fit.

I crassly gave my order to the gal on the other side of the microphone and line of cars inched forward and forward, until it was my turn to handle the transaction at the “pay” window. As you know, you often pay at one window and get your food at a second. Just then, as I stopped at the pay window, the the young lady slid the glass back and gave me a cheerful, “Hi!”

I think I probably sneered and rolled my eyes. Pointing to the vehicle in front of me, the young lady quickly said, “See the guy in front of you?”

I said, “Yeah,” thinking, of course, that not only had I “seen” him; I had “heard him” for several minutes and I was not at all pleased.

“Well, he got your breakfast. Have a great day.”

The boomerang of my judgment flew back and hit me squarely in the chest. I had made a snap assessment regarding the young man. Based upon his car, his appearance, and his music, I had told myself that I didn’t need to see more. And, thanks to the serendipity of the moment, sent my way most assuredly by our Lord, I realized just how wrong I had been.

I think one of the primary reasons Jesus gives us the Parable of the Weeds in Matthew 13 [see Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43, the Gospel reading for the Seventh Sunday after Pentecost, Year A] is to show us the dangers of passing judgment too quickly.

You remember the parable. The farmer plants a wheat crop, using good seed. An enemy planted weeds all throughout the farmer’s carefully planted field. The wheat and the weeds came up at the same time. The skilled eye of some of the servants noted the presence of the weeds. At a loss, they went to the landowner and said, “Didn’t you use good seed?” Figuring out what had happened, the landowner tells the servants that an enemy had sought to sabotage the harvest with the planting of the weeds.

“Should we pull up the weeds,” inquired the servants. And the response by the landowner is a curious one. “No, for if you gather the weeds, you may also pull up some of the good wheat. We’ll wait until harvest. Then you can gather the weeds first, bind them and burn them and then you’ll have the good wheat left.

What kind of farmer is this? Apparently, a similar kind of farmer that we saw in last week’s parable, where the sower didn’t carefully plant seed in areas where the harvest would be full and certain, he just threw seed everywhere, knowing that some of it — much of it — might be wasted. Here the landowner/farmer tells the servants to leave the weeds alone — something neither of my gardening grandmothers would have allowed. There will be time later to separate things out.

When Jesus had finished with His parable, the disciples were just as confused as they had been when he told them about the Sower and the four kinds of soil. They asked Him to explain and He gave the explanation that is recorded in the second part of this week’s lesson [see Matthew 13:36 et seq.]. And yet, I’m left thinking there is more to His parable than meets the eye.

Might this parable also be about patience, both the sort of patience that God exhibits toward us, and the patience that God would like to see us exhibit toward others? Jesus seems intent upon teaching us that snap judgments, decisions about people and ideas made with just a smidgeon of information, and not a full look, can be harmful both to us and to those whom we are judging. I looked at the guy in front of me in his car, playing his music and I said, “Weed.”

We see a young woman on the other side of the street. She has spiked hair. Perhaps we see a young man with tattoos and body piercings. “That’s all I need to see,” we might say or think. We see the smelly, sun-burned man on the busy street corner with the sign, “I’m homeless.” Again, “That’s all I need to see,” we might say. We see two young men showing affection for each other and we think, “They’re gay; that’s all I need to see.”

The list goes on: He’s Muslim; they’re Catholic; she’s Hispanic; he’s White. He drinks; she a party-girl; she’s divorced — twice; they don’t go to church.”That’s all I need to see.”

“Did you know that she watches Fox News?” I overheard him one day; I think he favors MSNBC.” It’s all we need to see.

Sometimes, if we examine just how quick we are to make snap judgments about others, we might wonder why God puts up with us the way God does? Can we see that the answer to that question is displayed quite well by Jesus in this parable? His parable illustrates just how patient God is with us.

I can’t speak for you, but if you’ll recall my last week’s meditation, I tried to point out that I am a mixture of “soils,” some bare and hard-packed like that found on the pathway, some soil that is mixed with hard, brittle stones, other soil offers some promise, but is surrounded by weeds (i.e., the temptations around me), and yes, some that is soil characterized by richness. Likewise, when I reflect upon this parable of our Lord, I recognize that I am a field within which there has been planted some good, strong, promise-filled wheat, and yet a field with not a small collection of harmful weeds.

Our Faith teaches that God doesn’t just see us in our present reality; God sees us in the glory that can be ours in Jesus Christ. I’m a mixture of Grace and sin, of Love and selfishness, of Kindness and meanness, Good and evil, yet our Lord Jesus Christ teaches you and me that God is patient with me; God is patient with you. Thanks be to God, for God gives us the chance to change; God gives us the chance to grow. God doesn’t look at the weeds in my life and declare, “That’s all I need to see.”

If God is that patient with us, shouldn’t we be patient with each other? The harvest isn’t today; thanks be to God. Yet God hasn’t given us an unlimited time to grow and prosper. The next time you and I are tempted to pass judgment on someone, might we remember that God hasn’t yet passed judgment on us.