Paul Harvey was a famous radio talk show host, who told stories of famous people in such a way that his listeners won’t be able to predict the subject of his story until the very end. Paul would describe a kid who failed Math class many times, only to reveal at the end of his story that he was speaking about Albert Einstein. Or, someone who found it tough to make it through college and eventually dropped out but turned out to be Bill Gates. Or an amorous youth who became St. Augustine. Doesn’t that reveal that the good seed might be hiding in the midst of tares? The first female president of America could be a crying baby in Church that some can’t stand. And the first American pope might be the raucous child who is running out of control right before you.
The parable of the tares among wheats wouldn’t sound strange to anyone who grew up in the farm. Such was Jesus’ audience; they were mostly farmers. They understood that some seeds might look like weeds when they sprout. Careful attention must be exercised to ensure that they are not uprooted by inexperienced and overzealous people. Hence, only adults could do the weeding; kids are barred. So, Jesus tells us in this parable to let the weeds grow along with the wheat; the difference will be clear at harvest time.
Here is the practical lesson for the spiritual life: Be patient, do not jump into hasty conclusions about what you see. It takes time for the true nature of things to be revealed. Things and humans don’t always turn out the way they seem at first. It is often impossible to know for sure who is what, since we judge by appearances. The scribes and the Pharisees of Jesus’ day appeared to be more religious than others. Yet, for Jesus, they were masked hypocrites.
Nothing is more hazardous than to pass judgment, especially regarding an individual’s relationship with God. Even in cases of fairly obvious wrongdoing, we cannot always know all the circumstances underlying every action or inaction. For example, if St. Joseph were like many of us, he would have reported our Blessed Mother Mary to the authorities when he found that she was pregnant, out of wedlock. Mary would have been stoned to death with her Divine Child. The mystery of the incarnation would have been exposed to ridicule. What seems at first bad might prove the exact opposite, vice versa.
But Jesus isn’t urging a negligence of a person’s primary behavior, rather, that the mysteries of the kingdom are often imperceptible; it may be present but not clearly evident. Its start may be unspectacular, like the mustard seed or the yeast that leavened the dough. The tiny mustard shouldn’t be despised. A child need not be from a royal family before it is treated with honor. Jesus was a tiny child born in a manger but turned out the largest bush on which many are sheltered today from the traps of the enemy. The leaven mixed with the dough might be relatively insignificant and disappears into the mix; yet, it doesn’t cease to work its magic of transforming the life of the dough with its intangible presence.
We’re to sow love, which is like a mustard seed, like the leaven, like the kingdom: not grandiose, but able to change everything. A problem child who frequented the principal’s office for extra admonitions was put with another teacher who moved her close to her desk. Rita reported to her mom, “She smiles at me.” Rita’s new teacher praised her artistic talents, found her dependable and would often send her on errands for her. Rita blossomed, and even helped other kids. The new teacher brought the kingdom of God right into her classroom, and the love multiplied. Rita herself turned out a celebrity teacher that every child wants to be in her class. She smiles at them and celebrates their accomplishments with high-fives. Like the leaven or mustard seed, once sown, love spreads out to more and more people. Sow love, not hate.
Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo