Sermon on Matthew13:24-30, 36-43

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

This is an unsettling parable, with its “furnace of fire” and “weeping and gnashing of teeth.” It’s easy tosee only fire and brimstone in it.

To see “us, the wheat” vs. “them, the weeds.”

Or to worry: what if I’m a weed? Maybe I’m not good enough for the kingdom of heaven.

It’s easy to come to some troubling conclusions looking at this parable. Jesus’ explanation is a bit graphic, but let’s remember that it’s had two thousand years of people using that imagery to make people afraid and obedient. There can be other ways to read it and other things to get out of it.

This parable isn’t about making people fear Hell or to let “righteous” people feel satisfaction at “those evildoers” who are going to get punished.

Jesus was saying pretty much the opposite: stop worrying so much about sorting out “us versus them,” and instead trust God to sort it out in God’s time.We have a God full of grace—we can’t earn God’s love, and God loves us as we are, regardless of the ways we fall short.

So instead of fixating on the scary parts of this parable, let’s try to find what’s life-giving. I see three important things we can take from this parable.

The first is: don’t judge others.

“Let both of them grow together until the harvest,” says the landowner. Only at harvest time will everything be sorted out. We should focus on what’s happening now, not distressing ourselves over the future or judging and categorizing each other.

We shouldn’t presume to uproot the weeds—that’s the reapers’ job. And that job will only happen at the harvest—in God’s appointed time.

But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t hold each other and ourselves accountable for our actions. When people abuse each other or wreak violence on each other, they—we—need to be held accountable, especially when the wrongdoer has more power (either explicit or implicit power) over the person or people they’ve harmed.

But ultimately, God’s the one who will sort things out in God’s time. And if we try to sort things out ourselves in our time, there’ll be no one left. Because there are weeds and wheat in each of our lives, in each of our hearts. That’s human nature. As Martin Luther put it, we’re simultaneously saints and sinners. We can’t separate the weeds from the wheat. And thankfully, we don’t have to.

I’ve been thinking about this truth about human nature a lot lately. Between my trip to the DC area last month and Independence Day, I’ve been having the musical Hamilton stuck in my head. It illustrates the complicated nature of human beings really well.

It’s inspired by the life of founding father Alexander Hamilton, and it’s narrated in large part by Aaron Burr, who killed Hamilton in a duel.

It could very easily paint Hamilton as the untainted hero of the story and cast Burr as the villain, but it doesn’t. It gives Hamilton credit for starting with nothing and through hard work and talent accomplishing great things and shaping this nation’s finances and government.

It also shows Hamilton’s thirst for influence and power. It shows him having an affair with a married woman while his own wife was away on vacation without him. He was so driven by his work that he sacrificed his health and family for it. It shows him preparing his son for a duel that would kill him.

And it shows Burr as just as ambitious, but also cautious and calculating. He also has an affair with a married woman, but it also shows Burr as a devoted spouse and parent. Often, Burr comes across as wiser than Hamilton—not subject to Hamilton’s fiery temper and rashness. But ultimately, Burr succumbs to jealousy and wounded pride. He challenges Hamilton to a duel and kills him. Afterwards, Burr laments that “the world was wide enough for both Hamilton and me.”

A show that could easily label Hamilton wheat and Burr a weed portrays them both as more complicated than that. They’re brilliant, talented, and dedicated people who also have flaws and hurt others. They’re both weeds and wheat. They’re human. Just like us.

Our parable today reminds us that we each have weeds and wheat within us. So, don’t judge others. Let them be complicated human beings, just like you.

A second lesson we can take from this parable is that the kingdom of heaven is growing.

It’s easy to focus on the end of the parable and forget what’s happening between the planting and the harvesting. But if we take a closer look at some of the context of this chapter, a theme of growth becomes more obvious.

This reading is made up of two chunks, and we skipped reading the two parables that come in between those chunks, because it’s scheduled for next week’s reading. So, we get the parable of the wheat and the weeds and then we get the disciples asking Jesus for an explanation.

The two parables that come in between are:

1.    The parable of the mustard seed, which compares the kingdom of heaven to a tiny mustard seed that grows up to be big enough that birds seek shelter in it.

2.    And the parable of the yeast, which compares the kingdom of heaven to yeast that makes dough rise. On my rare attempts at breadmaking, I’m always amazed to see how the dough doubles or triples in size as the yeast does its work.

Both of these parables have to do with growth, specifically the growth of the kingdom of heaven.

Today’s reading bookends these two parables about growth. And the parable of the wheat and the weeds, indeed, has to do with growth: the wheat still grows, despite the weeds. The harvest still arrives. The weeds don’t choke the wheat. There’s growth until the appointed time.

Jesus is giving the disciples and the crowds hope that God’s good news will spread, will grow. Beloved Community will continue to grow, despite the evil in the world and in our hearts.

Similarly, Hamilton and Burr’s legacieslive on despite their flaws and failings. Both Hamilton and Burr struggle to be remembered for their contributions. Both fall short of their ambitions: neither becomes president, Hamilton’s life is cut short, Burr is remembered for being the one who ended it. Still, each had a role in the development of this nation, and the good growth continued despite their shortcomings.

Legacy is one of the major themes in the show, and a recurring line is: “You have no control / who lives, who dies, who tells your story.” George Washington gives this advice to Hamilton as he sees Hamilton’s thirst to leave a mark on the world. Hamilton could do his best, but as he steps into the public eye, there are things outside his control that could affect his legacy.

That leads me to the third thing this parable tells us: we do know who tells our story.

God tells our story. And not only that, but God is in control of the story. And we know how the story ends—it’s going to be a happy ending.

Right now, we have both weeds and wheat within us. There’s evil in the world—it can be overwhelming. There’s evil in our own hearts. Sometimes it’s hard to find hope in the middle of all the weeds in this world.

But this parable promises that what’s evil and wrong in this world will no longer be. What’s right about the world and what’s right within us will shine like the sun. The Reign of God will be complete in God’s time.

Until then, we don’t need to divide ourselves into weeds and wheat—God will sort things out at the right time. For now, the world is wide enough for both weeds and wheat.

The Reign of God will continue to grow, and we get to be a part of it.

It’ll continue to grow until harvest time, when it’ll be complete.

And always, we rely on God’s grace. We’re saved by Christ’s death and resurrection, not by anything we do to make ourselves more like wheat and less like a weed. God’s got this—nothing can separate us from God.

If you ever feel like a weed or if the weeds of this world get you down, remember who tells your story. And know that the ending will shine like the sun.

Sermon on Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

Focus:Just as the sower sowed seeds all over the place, we can trust that good news can be found all around us and join in tending the soil.

Function:This sermon will encourage hearers to look for good news wherever they go.

By the time of our Gospel reading, it seems that Jesus was getting popular. So many people came to hear him speak that he got into a boat so he could address everyone on the beach.

It might seem like Jesus had arrived—if it were happening today, he would probably have paparazzi following him around.

But just as it tends to happen today, when someone gets a big enough audience, they also get a lot of pushback.

As we talked about last week, people who had been complaining that John the Baptist was a party pooper were now giving Jesus the side-eye for being a party animal.

Then, some religious leaders were upset because Jesus’ disciples picked themselves a snack on the Sabbath and then Jesus healed a man also on the Sabbath. And they weren’t just complaining about that behavior—they started to plot his downfall. They started spreading the idea that Jesus was acting through the power of demons.

Right before our reading, Jesus was talking to some crowds, and his family members were waiting outside to speak with him. He then asked the messenger, “’Who is my mother, and who are my brothers?’ And pointing to his disciples, he said, ‘Here are my mother and my brothers! For whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother.’”

We don’t know what his family wanted to talk to him about. Maybe they wanted him to stop saying things that would get him in trouble or reflect badly on them. Maybe they wanted special treatment. Maybe they just wanted to say hi. But it can’t have been easy for them to hear what Jesus said. Jesus wasn’t just making enemies of some religious leaders—he was saying things that were hard to hear even for his own loved ones.

Right after that, our reading begins with Jesus leaving the house and sitting by the sea, and then getting into a boat to address the huge crowds in parables.

Jesus was popular but also getting negative attention.

This parable of the sower was the first in a series of parables, which we’ll be looking at for the rest of July. The rest of them are explicitly about the “kingdom of heaven,” and this one is about how that message is received.

It’s like Jesus was explaining to everyone why he was receiving pushback:

·       Some people just wouldn’t understand,

·       some would give up at the first sign of trouble,

·       some would get distracted by the practicalities of daily life,

·       but some would embrace the kingdom of heaven

For the crowds, it was enough to know to expect these reactions—why they were so moved by Jesus’ teachings and others were hostile.

But then, Jesus went deeper with his closest disciples.They came to him asking about parables, and Jesus explained to them the parable of the sower.

Where the crowds could rest in the knowledge that Jesus’ message would be received differently, Jesus was inviting his disciples into a deeper message.

Yes, people would have different reactions, and also, Jesus’ disciples would bear fruit. This parable isn’t about sorting out the “chosen few” versus those who didn’t make the cut. It’s realistic that not everyone is going to be receptive, but those who aregrow into the ecosystem of the kingdom of heaven.

They embody the vision in Isaiah of “shalom,” God’s peace that goes far beyond lack of war.Humanity and creation will be in harmony—everything will dance with joy, what is prickly will become lush, and everything will be fruitful and nourishing.

Jesus gave the disciples the understanding they asked for so that they could not only recognize the different reactions to Jesus’ words but help create richer soil.

By living out the kingdom of heaven here on earth, they would participate in showing glimpses of what its fulfillment will look like. By following Jesus’ example and feeding the hungry, having compassion on the suffering, and creating a community of love, they would make earth a little more as it is in heaven. They would cocreate with God richer soil for the seeds to land on.

Without that invitation to discipleship, it’s easy to look at this parable and try to type ourselves.

Maybe weread it and pat ourselves on the back for showing up at church on Sundays.Maybe we even find ourselves judging “Christmas and Easter Christians” as one of the other soils.

We can find ourselves longing for the packed Sunday school rooms of the past and feeling some distress about the young families in our lives who don’t belong to a church.

It’s understandable to feel that grief and concern for people and congregations we love.

Or maybe we read the parable and judge ourselves harshly, wondering if we have truly weathered difficult circumstances or would wither if greater hardship came our way. Or we think of how much time we spend worrying about money and wonder if our faith is being choked by “the cares of this age and the lure of wealth.”

Now I love a good personality test, but the parable of the sowerisn’t about telling us where we were sown or what kind of soil we are.

If anything, I think we have the potential for any or all of these reactions to Jesus’ message throughout our lives.

Who among us hasn’t been perplexed by something in Scripture and felt like we’re just not getting it, as if we almost figured out something profound only to have it snatched away?

Who among us hasn’t heard an inspiring speaker or been caught up in the emotion of a beautiful hymn or worship song and felt like we would be different from now on, only to wake up the next morning and go about our business as usual?

Who among us hasn’t ever gotten caught up in the cares of this world or worried about money?

And finally, who among us hasn’t ever noticed God at work—whether something truly miraculous or simply being moved by a sunset or a tender act of friendship.

We have the potential for all of it on any given week.The point isn’t to categorize ourselves or others.

Since Jesus called it “the parable of the sower” in his explanation to his disciples, let’s remember that the sower sowed seed all over the place. He didn’t reserve the seeds only for the good soil. He threw handfuls everywhere.

We have a God of abundance and a Savior who wanted his message spread far and wide. The Good News is everywhere: that God loves this world God created, that God created each and every human being (including you!) in God’s image, that God is on the side of the suffering, powerless, and marginalized, that God loved us enough to become human and experience the fullness of the human experience, and that God will reconcile all things, bringing God’s shalom to the world.

When the conditions are right, these truths will root and grow. God’s word will not return empty but will water and nourish the earth.

We followers of Jesus get to notice that happening, and maybe God will use us to increase the good soil around us. Thanks be to God, we don’t have to be perfect—just do our best with the Holy Spirit’s help to be kind and generous and loving and honest, including about where we need God’s grace.

It may not make us popular, and it will likely bring about some pushback, but just as Jesus was dedicated to spreading his message of God’s shalom far and wide, we can help bring glimpses of that peace.

God’s peace be with you, wherever you go.

Sermon on Matthew 10:24-39

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

In the movie, Life of Brian, by the British comedy group Monty Python, a man named Brian who was born the same night as Jesus keeps getting mistaken for the Messiah.

There’s a scene where he’s walking through a busy town, and there’s a line of people asking, “Alms for a leper!” And then, he passes a man who says, “Alms for an ex-leper!” and he does a double take.

It turns out this man had been cured by Jesus, but he’s upset because “One minute [he’s] a leper with a trade, next minute [his] livelihood's gone.”

After he follows the perplexed and irritated Brian for quite some way and goes at length into his story, saying he didn’t want to be a leper again but maybe“if [Jesus] could make [him] a bit lame in one leg during the middle of the week. You know, something beggable, but not leprosy,” Brian finally gives him a coin in hopes he will go away.

The man exclaims, “Half a denary for me bloody life story?”

Brian shakes his head and says, “There's no pleasing some people.”

The man responds, “That's just what Jesus said, sir!”

Indeed, there’s just no pleasing some people. That pretty much sums up the opening of our Gospel reading today.

Right before it, John the Baptist sent some of his disciples to see if Jesus was the real deal, because he was in prison and couldn’t go himself. After telling those disciples to share with John about all of the healing and new life theywitnessed, Jesus started talking to the crowds about John.

He confirmed that John was the one who was to prepare the way—the Elijah figure who would announce the coming Messiah.Jesus insisted, “Let anyone with ears listen!”

Then, he turned to the crowds following him and basically said, “There’s no pleasing some people!”

People complained that John was a party pooper.

Then, they complained that Jesus was a party animal.

They were too busy judging John and Jesus to see God at work right in front of them.

There’s just no pleasing some people.

That’s a good summary of modern life too, isn’t it?

Whether it’s politics, celebrity culture, or just someone posting an opinion online, someone’s going to be upset. There’ll probably be some name-calling. Someone might get canceled. Someone else will probably make a profit.

There’s a sense of outrage in the ethos. Often it seems overblown. Sometimes it seems justified, especially if it’s outrage on behalf of vulnerable or marginalized neighbors.

But either way, there’s just no pleasing some people. And sometimes “some people” is us.

Why? Because we’re fallible human beings, full of hurt and ego and limited understanding and bias—and everyone else is too.

Paul gives us what I think is one of the most accurate depictions of human nature in his letter to the Romans:

“I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.”

How very human.

How often do I resolve to do better—to be better—and fail the very next moment?

How often do I lose my temper or say the thing I know will hurt someone I love or lack the courage to tell the truth that needs to be said?

How often do I fail to live up to the ideals I aspire to?

Every day. Every hour. All the time.

There’s just no pleasing some people. Me, especially.

How about you? Do you fail to do what you want and do the very thing you hate?

How very human of us.

Fortunately, our Savior, who’s 100% human as well as 100% divine, knows this about us. He didn’t say, “There’s just no pleasing some people,” and storm off in a huff, giving up on humanity entirely. Thank God.

Instead, he turned from his frustration with the crowds to prayer. Maybe not a bad strategy when we feel that there’s just no pleasing some people. Jesus prayed, thanking God for hiding divine mysteries from the smart people and revealing them to the childlike. Maybe those of us who are so hard to please are the ones who think we’ve grown out ofwonder, awe, joy, and delight.

Maybe it’s hard to please people who think they have it all figured out.

It’s a lot easier to please people who are open to new ideas and experiences, who expect that the world might surprise them still.

Our Buddhist siblings talk about “beginner’s mind” in meditation: the technique of trying to come to each sitting as if it were the first time—open, curious, without comparison with the last time, without expectation of any particular results. There’s spiritual wisdom there that I have a hard time putting into words, but what would it be like if more people approached the world with beginner’s mind?

Maybe we’d be easier to please.

Maybe that’s part of what Jesus meant at the end of our reading when he invited all who are weary to come to him and rest.

Maybe the world feels lighter when we lay down our expectations, our disappointments, and whatever makes us difficult to please.

Jesus could have become jaded and cynical because of people’s double standard with him and John the Baptist. But he didn’t.

He held onto his ideals and stayed true to his mission.

He continued to proclaim the Beloved Community despite his detractors.

When he was faced with the might of the Roman Empire, he didn’t enter Jerusalem riding a warhorse and commanding an army. Instead, as Zechariah put it, he was “humble and riding on a donkey” followed by a small band of confused fisherman and tax collectors.

Instead of dominating and amassing earthly power, he came to spread God’s inclusion, peace, justice, and love.

Jesus held onto his ideals, and so should we.

On this Independence Day weekend with its especially significant 250th anniversary, I’ve been thinking about this country’s ideals and where they match or at least rhyme with Jesus’ ideals.

Our Zechariah reading with a king riding on a donkey reminded me of George Washington’s reputed humility. He set the precedent for being referred to as “Mr. President” instead of a more grandiose title, and he had the wisdom to not run for re-election after two terms, opening the way for new leadership.

The founders set up beautiful ideals like “freedom of religion,” which keeps us from having a state sponsored religion and allows us and all of our neighbors to express our gloriously diverse faith traditions.

The Statue of Liberty has Emma Lazarus’s poem “The New Colossus” inscribed on its pedestal, reminding us that we are an eclectic country that says to the world, “Give me your tired, your poor, / Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.” It doesn’t sound dissimilar to Jesus saying, “Come to me, all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.”

It’s important to note that the US doesn’t always live up to its ideals, just as Christianity often doesn’t live up to Jesus’ ideals, because we’re humans, and “[we] do not do what [we] want, but[we] do the very thing [we] hate.”

It’s why we need each other to keep us accountable to upholding the ideals of our country and continue the American Experiment.

It’s why we as Christians need God to teach us and to offer us grace each and every time we fail.

And with the power of the Holy Spirit, each and every time we fail, we can try again to live out the ideals of God’s Beloved Communitythat Jesus worked for, despite his detractors.

There may be no pleasing some people, but that won’t stop us from following Jesus’ example and trying to live out God’s inclusion, peace, justice, and love.