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Weeds, Wheat, and the Problem of Evil: Homily for 20 July, 16th Sunday, Cycle A
By Fr. Dennis | July 21, 2008
Now that I am ordained and busy with parish life, I spend several hours every week doing homily preparation, and so I don’t have much attention to give to blogging. However, gentle reader, if it does not displease, here is another homily. This was delivered this past weekend at Immaculate Conception Church in Union City, Tennessee. I covered all the weekend masses for the pastor, who was on vacation.
Readings for Sunday, July 20, 2008
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It is a well-known part of the mythology of the premier institutions of higher learning in this country, like Yale Law School, Harvard Medical School, the US Naval Academy, and other places that have very high standards of excellence… Even if you haven’t been to these places, you’ve seen it in the movies or on television… On the opening day of the new school year, the dean of students or some other worthy officer of the school will step up to the podium and address the incoming students with these words:
“Ladies and gentlemen, take a moment and look at the student to your left. Now, look at the student to your right. By the end of this year, one of you will be gone.”
It’s very dramatic, and it’s meant to put a little fear into the new students, to let them know that play time is over and it’s time to take things seriously.
Now, imagine what would happen if a priest were to say that from the pulpit in church, during mass. “Look at the Christian to your left. Look at the Christian to your right. At the end of time, when we stand before God in heaven to praise him forever, one of you won’t be there.”
Some of you are probably looking at each other right now thinking, “Well, I’ve been married to this character for some time now, and I can tell you right now which of us won’t be there.”
Now, I would never actually say that at mass. I’m not trying to scare anybody. I was only wondering how that would play. Probably not very well, because we don’t usually like hearing about the loss of heaven and the pains of hell. Priests who preach about that kind of thing too often get a reputation for being negative, trying to scare people into acting right.
But there is a sense in which we do really have something to think about. At the end of time, he’ll bring the harvest in, and he’ll separate the weeds from the wheat, and the weeds will be bundled up and tossed onto the fire.
The thing that’s difficult about being human is that we’re not just one thing. In each of us, there’s a mix. Inside my heart and inside each of yours, there’s both weeds and wheat, mixed in with each other, and growing up side by side. You know what your weaknesses and flaws are. At least some of them. And there may be others you can’t see.
And all of humanity is that way. We’re a mixture of good and evil. God made us good. God made us in his image and likeness, and we bear in our nature the mark of his goodness, and our nature is drawn toward the goodness of love that comes from God. But also, through our actions and the actions of our ancestors, we have an attraction to things that are bad for us. That’s part of the problem of human life. We want to be good and to do good, but sometimes we do bad, and when we do bad often enough, our hearts can be overrun with the weeds that were sown in the dark of night by the enemy. And everyone suffers for it.
One of the toughest questions to answer in the history of questions is this: How can God who is all-powerful, all-knowing, all-good, and all-loving allow evil? Or, as it’s more frequently asked, why does God let bad things happen to me in particular?
Many people, when they confront this problem, say, “Well, God may be all-loving and all-knowing, but he’s obviously not all-powerful because he is unable to prevent my suffering. Or, they’ll say, maybe God is all-powerful, but he simply doesn’t love me enough to give a flip about me one way or the other.
For the Christian, though, neither of these theories is satisfactory. For us, we know that God must be both.
This particular philosophical and religious problem is called “The Problem of Evil,” and humans have been wrestling with it for most of human history.
In the gospel, Jesus proposes to us an answer to the problem. The master in the story has the power to send his workers out to rip up the weeds. He could do it without hesitation, and since the entire harvest belongs to him, he would have the right to do it.
God is truly powerful. But God is so powerful that he can afford to be merciful. You may know from your own experience that the truly powerful rarely have to exercise their power. It is only the weak that must constantly prove themselves. But God has nothing to prove, and he best displays his power when he reveals his mercy.
It’s just as the author of the book of Wisdom tells us in the first reading. Addressing God, he says:
“But though you are the master of might, you judge with clemency, and with much lenience you govern us. And you taught your people, by these deeds, that those who are just must also be kind; and you gave your children good ground for hope that you would permit repentance for their sins.” (Wis 12:18-19)
God does not send his workers into the field to rip up the weeds because some of the wheat might be damaged by it. He forbears. He withholds his judgment. He reveals his power through the exercise of his mercy.
And that’s actually good news for each of us! Because while any one of us might at one time or another wish that God would yank up this particular weed or that particular annoying person, there’s probably somebody out there who’s thinking that about us from time to time. It’s a good thing we’re not in charge of God’s crop because there might not be anything left at harvest time.
But God is wiser than we are. God knows that a sinner may yet repent. He knows that even in his Holy Church, the one Body of Christ, founded by Jesus Christ on the Rock of Peter and against whom the gates of hell will never prevail, is not the perfectly beautiful Bride of Christ that she is meant to be. For while the Church is an divine institution, founded by Christ himself, she is also and institution made up of humans.
Here is what the Catechism of the Catholic Church says about it. If you want to look it up later, it’s number 827:
“Christ, ‘holy, innocent, and undefiled,’ knew nothing of sin, but came only to expiate the sins of the people. The Church, however, clasping sinners to her bosom, at once holy and always in need of purification, follows constantly the path of penance and renewal.” All members of the Church, including her ministers, must acknowledge that they are sinners. In everyone, the weeds of sin will still be mixed with the good wheat of the Gospel until the end of time.”
That’s the state of things. God will sort things out in the end, and he let’s us keep growing because of his love for us. He has power to bring justice to bear upon us, but in his love and mercy he forbears, he stays his hand, he withholds his judgment for a time.
So what does he do to show us his mercy? How does he show us he loves us? God so loves the world that he sends us his only Son, so that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life (John 3:16).
The one who lives and loves perfectly, because he is God himself, pours himself out to take on our frail nature, and offers himself to us. Out of love for us, he gives us his very flesh to eat. Out of love for us he gives us his very blood to drink. Out of love for us he died on the cross. Out of love for us he offers us a share in his resurrection. In this life we receive his body and blood at this altar, and it strengthens us to become who God made us to be.
As we go through our daily lives this week, let’s ask God to help us become who he made us to be, that the love he pours out into our hearts may overflow into the actions we take towards those around it, so that it may spill over into their hearts as well, so that all the world will know that God is both all-powerful and all-loving, and that his love and mercy endure forever.
Topics: Homilies, Parish Life |
July 21st, 2008 at 5:45 pm
Very good even though it was a tad immoderate here and there.
July 21st, 2008 at 6:26 pm
Good homily just as the others you have posted.
I know it is a tad late, but congratulations on your ordination! You’ve been in my thoughts and prayers although life has been so hectic I have not had a chance to comment on your blog.
Take good care of yourself and your parishioners.
July 22nd, 2008 at 1:41 am
Courageous! So, did you say it at Mass? (You said in the middle of it that you would never do so, so I was just curious…)
I think these things need to be said once in awhile–no one seems to realize anymore that it is possible to lose your soul. [Everybody knows that everybody goes to heaven...right?]
Recently, my aunt died of cancer. She was a good person, pleasant to be with, a wonderful teacher, and a good wife and mother. She never practiced any faith, however, and was annoyed with anyone who attempted to encourage her in this regard. A few months before she died, she let me pray with her for healing, and for awhile she seemed to rally, but then took a turn for the worse. As she was dying, she mentioned her expectation of going to God. I am hopeful that this turns out to be true–I certainly prayed for it. But I worry sometimes that things may not have turned out as she thought.
Some years earlier, one of my uncles was killed in an accident. He likewise was a good person, a good father and husband, and good company; he likewise never practiced any faith, and wasn’t really open to talking about it. Those in the family who did have faith were casting about for evidence that he had secretly shared their faith…but as far as we know, the truth was, he didn’t.
So what happens to people when they die? We don’t know how God judges each situation, only he knows the whole picture–that’s true for those of us who do practice as well. If such talk disturbs people, perhaps it should. We don’t want to make them paranoid, or have an unhealthy fear of God that eclipses his love and mercy. But we do want people to take ’saving souls’ seriously.
July 23rd, 2008 at 4:00 pm
I did actually say it in mass. I said it to them as a hypothetical, which gets them to think the question without sounding like I think they’re all going to hell. The text here is the actual text I preached.