Br. Lain Wilson

Matthew 13:36-43

Our Gospel passage this evening is a rare instance of Jesus explaining a parable. This is the parable of the wheat and weeds, which we heard two Sundays ago. As wheat and weeds grow together in a field, the householder orders that they be left until the harvest, when the weeds will be separated and burned, and the wheat brought into the barn. It’s a parable about patience in the face of the persistence of evil and suffering, and faith in God’s future judgment (Matthew 13:36–43).

Jesus clarifies the meaning of the parable to his disciples, and to us. But that clarity doesn’t mean it’s simple, and the urging of patience for the future doesn’t mean that we don’t have work to do in our present. If we can look toward the distant future of this world’s field, we are also directed to tend our own gardens.

We are called to survey our garden’s health, and we are called to be clear-eyed in that assessment. Where do we see weeds taking over? How have we neglected to attend to our garden?

Jesus came preaching repentance and turning back to God, not congratulating ourselves for being perfect. We all have failings. We are all burdened under the weight of sin. We will be called to take stock of our sins in the confession this evening. Don’t let yourself go on autopilot when you say these words. What failing today, what sin in this moment, weighs on your heart? Where is your garden languishing?

Part of this is about recognizing that the fates of what grows are intertwined. So as you survey your garden, learn the names of what grows there. Learn to recognize them, become familiar with them. What are your gifts that are cultivated there . . . and what are the shadows that they cast? Perhaps you have enormous capacity for work and productivity, and enormous impatience for those without. Perhaps you can have a conversation with anyone and everyone, but struggle when it comes time to listen.

Our brightest gifts cast the darkest shadows. When we can recognize them, name them, and become familiar with them, we can be more perceptive as to their impact on us and the world.

And all this – surveying our garden, recognizing what grows there – helps us to know how we may intervene. We can begin to experiment as gardeners. What happens when you water earlier in the day, or use compost?

Our Rule uses the word disciplines in this respect: the practices or habits or commitments that we can put into place, individually and collectively, to help us weather the challenges of vowed life in community. Water and sunlight are pretty high up on my own list (so I’m not all that different from a plant, really), but so too are movement and periods of solitude.

What about your own list? What factors are most important in how you show up to yourself, to God, and to the world? What disciplines – what interventions – might make your own garden healthier?

Confession, discernment, discipline: tending our gardens is hard work. But the good news is that we aren’t alone in this work. Jesus stands with us, giving us the courage to see and speak and do in the work of tending our gardens in the present, and the patience to wait with hope and faith upon the harvest of God’s future.

Amen.