16th Sunday
Ordinary Time – A
Matthew 13:24-43
This Sunday’s Readings
First Reading
Wisdom 12:13,16-19
God has shown himself to be a God of justice and mercy.
Responsorial Psalm
Psalm 86:5-6,9-10,15-16
A prayer to God for mercy.
Second Reading
Romans 8:26-27
The Spirit intercedes for us with God.
Gospel Reading
Matthew 13:24-43 (shorter form: Matthew 13:24-30)
Jesus offers parables about the Kingdom of Heaven and explains them to his disciples.
Jesus put another parable before the crowds: ‘The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a man who sowed good seed in his field. While everybody was asleep his enemy came, sowed darnel all among the wheat, and made off…
He put another parable before them: ‘The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed which a man took and sowed in his field. It is the smallest of all the seeds, but when it has grown it is the biggest shrub of all and becomes a tree so that the birds of the air come and shelter in its branches.’
He told them another parable: ‘The kingdom of heaven is like the yeast a woman took and mixed in with three measures of flour till it was leavened all through.’…
Then, leaving the crowds, he went to the house; and his disciples came to him and said, ‘Explain the parable about the darnel in the field to us.’
Background on the Gospel Reading
In today’s Gospel, Jesus offers three parables to describe the Kingdom of Heaven. He also explains why he speaks to the crowds in parables and interprets the parable of the sower for the disciples. This reading is a continuation of Jesus’ discourse that we began reading last Sunday.
All three parables use commonplace experiences to describe aspects of the Kingdom of Heaven. The first parable is longer and more detailed than the next two, and it alerts us to the two-fold reality of the Kingdom of Heaven. The beginnings of the Kingdom of Heaven can be found in this world. The fruition of the Kingdom of Heaven, however, will not be realized until the final judgment. In the meantime, as Jesus’ explanation to the disciples cautions, any effort to judge the progress of the Kingdom of Heaven is premature. Only God, in the final judgment, will distinguish the fruit of the Kingdom of Heaven and offer its reward.
The second and third parables call to our attention the abundance that will result from the small beginnings of the Kingdom of Heaven. Just as a mustard seed—the smallest of all seeds—will become a large bush, so too God will bring his Kingdom to full bloom. As a small amount of yeast will leaven the entire batch of bread, so too God will bring about the expansion of his Kingdom. In each case the image is of the superabundance that God brings out of even the smallest of signs of the Kingdom.
Contained within these parables are words of caution as well as words of consolation. In the parable of the sower we are warned against judging others. To judge and uproot the “weeds” prematurely will harm the wheat; final judgment rests with God. In the parables of the mustard seed and the yeast, we are consoled by the message that God can work wonders and produce abundance from even the smallest beginnings of the Kingdom of Heaven.
God’s patience
Pope Francis
Today’s Gospel reading offers three parables through which Jesus speaks to the crowds about the Kingdom of God. I will focus on the first: that of the good wheat and the weeds, which illustrates the problem of evil in the world and highlights God’s patience (cf. Mt 13:24-30, 36-43). How much patience God has! Each one of us too can say this: “How much patience God has!”. The narrative takes place in a field with two antagonists. On one side is the master of the field, who represents God and who sows good seed; on the other is the enemy, who represents Satan and scatters weeds.
As time passes, the weeds grow among the wheat, and the master and his servants express different opinions regarding this fact. The servants would like to intervene and uproot the weeds; but the master, who is concerned above all with saving the wheat, is against this, saying: “No; lest in gathering the weeds you root up the wheat along with them” (v. 29). With this image, Jesus tells us that in this world good and evil are so intertwined that it is impossible to separate them and eradicate all evil. God alone can do this, and he will do so at the Last Judgment. With its ambiguities and its composite character, the present situation is the field of freedom, the field of Christian freedom, in which the difficult exercise of discernment is made between good and evil.
This field then, involves reconciling, with great trust in God and in his providence, two seemingly contradictory approaches: decision and patience. Decision is that of wanting to be good wheat — we all want this — with all our might, and thus keeping away from the evil one and his seduction. Patience means preferring a Church that acts as leaven in the dough, that is unafraid to sully her hands washing her children’s clothes, rather than a Church of “purists” who presume to judge ahead of time who will be in the Kingdom of God and who will not.
Today the Lord, who is Wisdom incarnate, helps us to understand that good and evil cannot be identified with neatly defined areas or specific human groups: “These are the good, those are the bad”. He tells us that the boundary line between good and evil passes through the heart of each person; it passes through the heart of each of us, that is: We are all sinners. I would like to ask you: “Whoever is not a sinner raise your hand”. No one! Because we are all sinners, all of us are. Jesus Christ, with his death on the Cross and his Resurrection, has freed us from the slavery of sin and given us the grace to journey in a new life; but along with Baptism he also gave us Confession, because we all need to be forgiven for our sins. Looking always and only at the evil that is outside of us means not wanting to recognize the sin that is also inside us.
Then Jesus teaches us a different way of looking at the field of the world, of observing reality. We are called to learn God’s time — which is not our time — and also God’s “gaze”: thanks to the beneficial influence of uneasy anticipation, what were weeds or seemed to be weeds can become a good product. It is the reality of conversion. It is the prospect of hope!
May the Virgin Mary help us to accept, in the reality that surrounds us, not only filth and evil, but also good and beauty; to unmask the work of Satan, but above all to trust in the action of God who fertilizes history.
Angelus 23/07/2017
THE IMPATIENT PERSON AND THE CALM GOD
Fernando Armellini
Introduction
The creative work began with the separation of light from darkness (Gen 1:4). The firmament was divided into separate waters above the sky and on earth (Gen 1:6-7); God said, “Let there be lights in the ceiling of the sky to separate day from night” (Gen 1:14). At the end of this separation, the sacred author says: “God saw all that he had made, and it was very good” (Gen 1:31).
From that day, the human being, perhaps, unconsciously feared that opposites could merge again, bring chaos, and return the disorder that made life impossible. He is instinctively induced to erect fences and establish a separation between good and evil, pureand impure, saints and wicked, God’s friends and his enemies. Some superficially interpreted texts of the Bible seem to approve of such discrimination: “You are to be holy for me as I am holy, Yahweh, your God, and I have set you apart from the nations to be mine” (Lev 20:26).
The world came from the hand of God in pure form. However, evil remains an enigma, a disturbing element that the human being cannot stand. He is as impatient as the servants in the parable. He asks himself: ‘Where did the weeds come from?’ A frenzy to immediately solve the tensions he experiences takes over him. He ends up resorting to remedies that are worse than the evil he seeks to overcome. He becomes intolerant and ruthless with himself and with others. He punishes cruelly, launches holy wars, and gets carried away by anger that “never fulfills the justice of God” (Jas 1:20).
In this way, he commits two errors. He does not accept serenely the reality of the world in which good and evil are destined to live together and confuses the growing season with the harvest.
First Reading: Wisdom 12:13,16-19
There is no god besides you who have the care of all, that you need show you have not unjustly condemned. For your might is the source of justice; your mastery over all things makes you lenient to all. For you show yourmight when the perfection of your power is disbelieved; and in those who know you, you rebuke temerity. But though you are master of might, you judge with clemency, and with much lenience you govern us; for power, whenever you will, attends you. And you taught your people, by these deeds, that those who are just must be kind; and you gave your children good ground for hope that you would permit repentance for their sins.
The Book of Wisdom was the last book of the Old Testament to be written. Its author—a Jew of Alexandria—was probably still alive when Jesus was born. For centuries, the majority of Jews lived scattered throughout the world. In every city of the Roman Empire, they formed a community apart. They had their synagogues, rabbis, courts, festivals, and traditions. They did not contract marriages with pagans and took every precaution to avoid being corrupted by the customs of others, not to be swayed by their morals and religious practices.
Some of these so-called Jews of the diaspora had found excellent accommodation abroad. They were pursuing profitable professions, but most lived in poverty and were also subject to discrimination. They asked themselves: why we, for being faithful to God’s law, are oppressed and humiliated while the idolaters thrive? Why did God tolerate the insults and injustices we suffer? Our father told us that, in the past, the Lord performed signs and wonders on behalf of his people. How come he now does not intervene anymore? Is his strength perhaps diminished?
In today’s passage, the author responds to these questions. He assures them that the strength of the Lord is always the same, endless, but he does not use it to punish. He uses it only for the good of the person. This is his righteousness: to use tolerance towards all. His dominion is universal; it covers the just and the wicked. He cannot love only some (v. 16). People use their power to instill fear and respect or subjugate the weak and force them to remain subdued. God, however, despite being the owner of power, does not use it to impose his sovereignty; he does not resort to punishment, retaliation, or revenge but, with all, even with the wicked, he shows mercy and indulgence (vv. 17-18).
The two moving reasons in the last verse (v. 19) explain the surprising behavior of God. First, he is patient because he wants to teach his people that the just must love people. Yes, there are despicable actions, vile works, but no one deserves contempt; everyone deserves love. The second reason: God does not intervene with retaliation and punishment because he does not want the death of the wicked, but “that he turns from his ways and live” (Ezl 18:23). That is why God always offers the possibility of repentance (v. 19). Those expecting a punitive intervention are simply projecting their vengeful instincts onto God.
Second Reading: Romans 8:26-27
Brothers and sisters: The Spirit comes to the aid of our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes with inexpressiblegroanings. And the one who searches hearts knows what is the intention of the Spirit, because he intercedes for the holy ones according to God’s will.
How do we pray? It is simple enough to repeat formulas. But Jesus told his disciples that their prayer is not of this kind. “When you pray, do not use a lot of words, as the pagans do; for they believe that the more they say, the more chance they have of being heard” (Mt 6:7).
In today’s reading, Paul acknowledges candidly: we do not know how to pray; we have no idea what to ask from God, and our prayer is often just an attempt to make him adhere to our plans. The Spirit comes to the aid of our weakness and suggests the words that we must address to the Father (v. 26). To pray to God is to open the mind and the heart to his light and open ourselves to accept his will in every moment of life. Who gives us the light of God and gives us the strength to follow it? The Spirit, “… who probes everything, even the depth of God” (1 Cor 2:10), makes us partakers of His mysteries. The thoughts of God are incomprehensible to those who hold onto the wisdom of this world (1 Corinthians 2:3-7), so Paul calls them “unspeakable groanings.”
The prayer that comes from the Spirit is always answered because it conforms with the desires of God. It is not trying to bend his will to ours, but at our conversion to him (v. 27).
Gospel: Matthew 13:24-43
With three other parables, Jesus gradually reveals the mystery of the kingdom of heaven. The first—that of the wheat and the tares (vv. 24-30)—gets an explanation (vv. 36-43) as that of the last Sunday’s sower. This is a preacher’s sermon at the time of Matthew. The two other parables—that of the mustard seed and the leaven (vv. 31-33)—are told to emphasize the irresistible force of good. The retake of vv. 34-35 was said in vv. 10-17 which clarifies the reason why Jesus speaks in parables. Let’s look at the main parts of the passage.
Where does the weed come from? (vv. 24-30).
The already existing evil—which humans have never been able to give a satisfying answer—is a distressing problem. In addition to this, Matthew’s Christian communities had to deal with a second one, no less serious. Fifty years had passed since the death and resurrection of Jesus. They looked around themselves and realized that evil was still present and continued to increase and flourish. Why is it that the kingdom of heaven, inaugurated by Jesus, never had a total and immediate success?
The question was embarrassing. Someone formulated it in ironic and provocative terms: “Since our fathers in faith died, everything still goes on, as it was from the beginning of the world” (2 Pt 3:4).
The enigma of the existence of evil demands an explanation. The evangelist gives it with a parable of Jesus.
The first character in the scene is the owner. He represents God. He is the one who sows or in any event, the one responsible for the quality of the seed, defined as “good” (v. 24). This is not a mundane adjective. It explicitly recalls the refrain that is repeated ten times in the first chapter of Genesis: “And God saw that it was good.” Everything that God has done was good: not in the sense that cataclysms and natural disasters did not happen, that there was no pain, sickness, and death, but it was all good because it perfectly suited to fulfill the plans of the Lord.
Creation is good as the seed of the word announced by Jesus is good.
The second character is the enemy. He represents the logic of this world, the anti-evangelical mentality. He comes at night and, while everyone is asleep, sowing tares, a kind of weed very similar to grain. It grows to a height of 60 cm and produces an ear containing blackish grains; its roots are intertwined with those of the wheat and are impossible to eradicate without tearing that too.
It is when the minds are numbed from sleep when vigilance is loosened when one abandons oneself to dissipation and frivolity that the enemy finds a way to hack into the field to sow evil. An oversight is enough, and one ends up adapting to current morality. The principles of this world are assimilated. It is not easy, at first, to become aware of what happened. Evil, in fact, often disguises itself as “an angel of light” (2 Cor 11:14). Later on, when one looks at the results, he becomes aware of the germ of death that penetrated into the minds and hearts. That’s why Paul advises: “You know what hour it is. This is the time to awake for our salvation is now, nearer than when we first believed. The night is almost over and the day is at hand” (Rom 13:11-12).
The third characters are the servants. We find them amiable because they represent us. Their reaction—a mixture of astonishment and bewilderment in finding the presence of the darnel—is what we experience when we realize the existence of evil in the world, in the Christian community, in every person. The exciting dialogue with the master is moving. It shows their interest in the field, their commitment to production. They do not seem strangers but family members.
It is at this point that the central message of the parable is inserted: their passion for the cause of good involves them to the point of proposing a reckless action. They are taken by impatience, the anxiety of immediately getting rid of the darnel. They have no hesitation; they want an immediate and strong intervention.
The owner does not lose control; he keeps calm. He is not surprised about the incident. He is not moved and does not share their restlessness. The perspective of God is represented in his answer (which occupies more than a third of the story). In this world, good and evil are not separated. They are destined to grow together until the end.
Why can’t the times be speeded up? If God is almighty why does he not immediately eliminate every trace of evil?
Perhaps, he is not as omnipotent as we imagine. The Bible never gives him this title. It calls him powerful (Lk 1:49) or Pantokrator (Rev 1:8), which does not mean “one who can do what he wants,” but “the one to whom nothing gets out of hand.” The human being is free and God wanted to start “a love story” with him from which he could also come out defeated. His project contemplates the presence of evil, which must be serenely accepted, as a component of life. Believing that he is Pantokrator means feeding the belief that he will cleverly lead this “love story” with every person and that the last, decisive and winning word, however, will be his.
The presence of weeds in us than in others enormously irks. It costs us to admit that “there is no righteous man on earth who always does good and never sins” (Ecl 7:20). We would like to lull ourselves in the illusion of being perfect. We would like to have a confirmation of the high image that we have made of ourselves. Evil is not to be justified, of course, but Jesus urges us to consider it with the calm and patient eyes of God.
The amazing growth of the kingdom of heaven (vv. 31-35).
In the parable of the wheat and the weeds, other two short ones follow. They are called “twins” because they contain the same message: the disproportion between the small beginning and the unexpected, an amazing final result. A grain of mustard seed, almost invisible, gives rise to a shrub that can reach four feet in height; a few grams of yeast makes fifty pounds of flour rise. The contrast is enormous.
It’s not the invited who enjoys the present prestige and foretastes the future triumphs of the Church, which began with a group of unskilled fishermen who themselves were impure and sinful people. In time, it became a prevailing structure which is respected, feared, appreciated, and noticed. It’s not even an announcement of the progressive and relentless Christianization of the whole world.
As the preceding parable urged for patience and trust, these two are an invitation for optimism arising from the certainty that in the Spirit and the Word of Christ—although insignificant in the eyes of the world—the irresistible force of God is present.
The evangelist concludes the three parables with a reflection on the goal which Jesus wanted to achieve: to unveil God’s project for the world since the moment of creation (vv. 34-35).
The serene acceptance of evil does not mean disengagement (vv. 36-43).
The scene changes. Jesus is no longer on the boat, but at home. He does not turn to the crowd, but to the small group of disciples. It is the evangelist’s way of introducing the application of the parable.
Reading these verses one can notice that the situation it refers to is completely changed: the characters are no longer the same; the parable becomes an allegory; the seed is not the logic of the kingdom, and the tares the opposite, but they seem to be the good and bad individuals; the field is not the world, but the reign of the Son of man; the message, above all, is not the same: first the master invited servants to accept with serenity the existence of evil next to the good. Then he scolded the servants’ intolerance. Now he seems to let himself be taken up by the frenzy of “putting hands to the fire” (v. 42).
This is—as we revealed—a catechesis addressed to the community of Matthew at the end of the first century. Probably, after the first few decades of great fervor, the Christians were a bit more relaxed and did not take seriously the commitments of their baptism. What must be done? The evangelist felt the need to shake them, to recall them to the seriousness of life. He did so, using the language of the preachers of his time. He was a Jew, spoke to the Jews, and to make himself understood he could only resort to images comprehensible to his people, such as fire, the fiery furnaces, weeping, gnashing of teeth, the harvest, the angels, the devils. These awesome metaphors, commonly used by the rabbis, cannot be repeated today without adding any necessary explanations.
It’s not correct to extract from them conclusions regarding the end of the world and the judgment of God. Matthew was not giving information. He did not intend to describe what will happen to sinners in the future but was addressing an urgent, heartfelt call to his Christians.
One thing is certain: whoever does evil, ruins his life. As for the future, more than making the allegories (where clearly the eastern fertile imagination took over) absolute, it is better to dwell on what the Holy Scripture explicitly says that God is father “who wants all to be saved” (1Tim 2:4). “He did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but through him, the world is to be saved” (Jn 3:17).
And what about the fire? God knows a single fire: his Spirit descended on the disciples at Pentecost (Acts 2:3), handed over by the Risen Lord on Easter Sunday as a destructive force of sin (Jn 20:22-23). It is the fire alluded to by Jesus: “I have come to bring fire upon the earth and how I wish it were already kindled” (Lk 12:49). It is the unstoppable flame that will burn—this is the good news—all traces of weeds in the heart of every person, leaving only the good grain, the only one that will be admitted in the future world.
At the time of harvest “all the scandals and operators of iniquity” will be collected and thrown into the fiery furnace. It’s not a threat of punishment, but a good announcement: the fire of God, his Spirit will one day wipe out all forms of evil. In the kingdom of heaven, now in its completion, there will not be anyone doing iniquity.
READ: Our God is a god of mercy, strength, justice, prudence, and patience. In our moments of wordless grief, the Spirit of God within us intercedes for us. Jesus captures the various perfections of God through the parables of the Kingdom.
REFLECT: We are often embarrassed and distraught by the evil we find within ourselves. The good and the bad seem to co-exist within us and we despair. We then try to annihilate it. Perhaps we need to be compassionate to ourselves: let us accept ourselves with the good and the bad within us. It will help us open ourselves without reservation of shame before God whose grace will work like yeast and transform us in the fullness of time. It will also help us be compassionate and less judgmental towards others.
PRAY: Let us embrace both the good and bad in us and others so that we can truly be people of reconciliation.
ACT: Try to overcome the human tendency to be afraid or even hate those who are not like us. Refuse to worry. God is in charge.
Fernando Armellini
Italian missionary and biblical scholar
https://sundaycommentaries.wordpress.com
It’s the wheat that wins – in the end
Romeo Ballan, MCCJ
It is forbidden to raise barriers separating the good from the bad, and the holy from the wicked! Why is there evil in the world? Where do the weeds come from anyway? This Sunday Jesus teaches us about things such as these. The three parables in today’s Gospel, (the weeds, the mustard seed and the yeast) remind us of last Sunday’s parable of the sower: the apparently insignificant littleness of the seed compared with the power it carries within, ready to burst forth; the farmer scattering good seed in the field, while the enemy sows weeds; the vengeful impatience of the servants and the tolerant patience of the landowner… (v. 25:28-29). In the end, when harvest comes, there will be time enough to draw up the final balance-sheet: the results will be weighed, and reward or punishment duly assigned (v. 30). Here again, Jesus helps us understand his parable, now applied to the life and history of the Church, which is called to live immersed in a world of violence and injustice, but always buoyed up by hope and the patience of God. In every time and place the missionary Church “must continue her pilgrimage amidst the persecutions of the world and the consolations of God” (St Augustine, De civitate Dei).
In one of his last books, and referring explicitly to today’s parable, Blessed Pope John Paul II left us an authoritative commentary on the mysterium iniquitatis ever present in the world and history, and on the way good and evil live side by side, a clear reference to the parable of today: “The way evil grows and develops in the healthy soil provided by all that is good – this is truly a mystery. Yet there is another mystery – the good that evil has not been able to destroy, and that continues to spread in spite of evil, advancing indeed in the very same soil. We cannot help but think of the Gospel parable about the good seed and the weeds… In fact, this parable can help us read the whole history of humankind. In the various historical periods and in different ways, the wheat grows alongside the weeds, and the weeds grow together with the wheat. The history of humankind is the stage where good and evil act side by side. What does this mean? That though evil certainly exists alongside good, good nevertheless also perseveres alongside evil and grows, so to say, in the same soil, the soil of human nature” (cf. Memory and Identity, p. 14).
It is immediately obvious how relevant this message is for mission. When missionaries or educators find themselves faced with evil or rejection or wickedness, they may well be tempted to follow the example of the servants in the parable, more than willing to pull the weeds up straightaway (v. 28). They may want to act in a way which excludes – either/or. Jesus, on the other hand, the divine sower of good seed, calls us to be patient and merciful, respecting the times established by God, the only judge who truly knows what is in the human heart. Even though mission bears within itself the unstoppable power of the Gospel (v. 31-32), it nevertheless nearly always begins in a situation of small numbers and weak people – when compared to the apparent power and energy of the evil one. Missionaries are certainly bearers of a leaven capable of renewing the whole world from within (v. 33), but this can take a long time, and will often need to walk the way of patience, of momentary defeat, and of tolerance. The Book of Wisdom had foreseen all this (1st reading): O God, “your sovereignty over all makes you lenient to all” (v. 16). In a way very different from the powerful of this earth, who are often tempted to exceed and abuse their power, God who “disposes of such strength” governs us “with great lenience”, exercising his power when and where he wishes (v. 18). Indeed, the omnipotence of the Christian God is manifested above all in forgiveness and mercy. In fact, he offers his children “the good hope” that, after sin, he “will grant repentance” (v. 19). That is the way Jesus behaves, and his disciples and missionaries commit themselves to live and act in the same way. (*)
Every human being is a field where weeds and wheat are mixed; every human being knows the power of the evil one and the temptation of hasty intolerance. As the song goes, “inside everyone there’s good and there’s bad; but at the bottom of every heart something is happening”. We need the Spirit (2nd reading) to come to our aid in our weakness (v. 26), sustaining us through the times when evil and good live side by side in our hearts, encouraging us to hope, and teaching us to live by the thoughts of God’s merciful heart (v. 27).
(*) “It is not power, but love that redeems us! This is God’s sign: he himself is love. How often we wish that God would make show himself stronger, that he would strike decisively, defeating evil and creating a better world. All ideologies of power justify themselves in exactly this way, they justify the destruction of whatever would stand in the way of progress and the liberation of humanity. We suffer on account of God’s patience. And yet, we need his patience. God, who became a lamb, tells us that the world is saved by the Crucified One, not by those who crucified him. The world is redeemed by the patience of God and destroyed by the impatience of man”.
Benedict XVI
Homily at the Mass for the inauguration of the Pontificate, Rome, 24 April 2005
