How to look beyond the weeds

16th Sunday of Ordinary Time

“The kingdom of heaven may be likened to a man who sowed good seed in his field…” (Mt 13:24-43)

“What is the one thing in your life that keeps you awake at night?”

For some, it’s a difficult marriage. For others, a child who has wandered from the faith. A diagnosis. Politics. The future of the Church. We look at the field of our lives and see weeds everywhere. Our instinct is the same as the servants in today’s Gospel:
“Lord, do you want us to pull them up?”

Jesus answers with surprising words: “No… let them grow together until the harvest.”

If I could summarize today’s Gospel in one sentence, it would be this: Your job is to sow good seed. God’s job is to deal with the weeds.

Those are two very different responsibilities. Most of us spend far too much energy trying to do God’s job. We want to fix people. We want to control outcomes. We want to eliminate everything that frustrates us. We think that if God would only remove that difficult person, that painful circumstance, or that weakness inside ourselves, then everything would finally be peaceful.

But Jesus says, “Not yet.” There is a fascinating detail hidden in this parable. The weed Jesus names is probably bearded darnel. When it first grows, it looks almost exactly like wheat. By the time you can tell the difference, the roots have become intertwined. Pull up the weeds too early, and you’ll destroy the wheat along with them.

God sees what we cannot. God sees the roots. God is the one “who searches hearts”, and sees what is going on in the depths of our souls. God sees there might be a few weeds growing there too. But God is also patient and merciful. As the first reading says, “God judges with clemency and with much lenience.” Thank goodness!

Because if God immediately removed every weed, God might find a few growing inside of me. Instead, God gives us time to grow. That doesn’t mean we ignore evil. It means we overcome evil with good. We sow good seeds and put the weeds in God’s hands.

So if our job isn’t pulling weeds, what is it? Jesus answers that question with the next two parables. The Kingdom is like a mustard seed. The Kingdom is like yeast. Both are tiny. Both seem insignificant. Both quietly transform everything around them.

That is how Christians change the world. Not usually through dramatic gestures or major uprooting, but like a little leaven gently working to cause the bread to rise. That yeast could be one encouraging conversation. One act of forgiveness. One meal shared. One hour spent listening. One patient response instead of an angry one. One prayer offered for someone who doesn’t know you’re praying for him.

Those are seeds we are meant to sow.

Have you ever noticed how quickly a few careless words can change the atmosphere of an entire room. The opposite is also true. A kind word and peaceful disposition can not only change weather but change hearts.

I was reminded of this recently at the homeless shelter, where there are crazy days and calm days. I begin each morning making a simple request of the Lord: “Help me bring encouragement, hope, and peace to the people I meet. Help me sow good seeds. Some mornings it works beautifully. Others, not so much. Tempers flair, arguments break out. These are people who have a lot to be angry about. Yet I find the best way to diffuse a situation is to maintain my own inner calm, and radiate peace. Even before the arguments break out, I often know their names and their back stories. I want them to feel known and understood. These are the seeds I sow.

We often underestimate the power God has placed in our hands. Anthony de Mello tells the story of a woman who dreamed she entered a store where God stood behind the counter.
“What do you sell?” she asked. “Everything the heart desires,” God replied.
She said, “I’d like peace, joy, wisdom, freedom from fear… and not just for me, but for everyone.” God smiled and said, “I think you’ve misunderstood. We don’t sell fruit here. We sell seeds.”

That’s exactly how the Kingdom works. God places seeds into our hands. We decide whether we’ll plant them. The harvest belongs to Him.

Perhaps that’s why St. Paul tells us today that even when we don’t know how to pray, the Spirit is praying within us. God is already tending the field in ways we cannot see.

So this week, stop focusing so much on the weeds. Instead, ask yourself: Where can I sow seeds? Where can I plant one seed of kindness? One seed of hope? One seed of peace?

Leave the weeds to Jesus. He is a far better gardener than we are.