We’ve all asked the question: “How does that song go?”  A friend responds, “Well, it goes something like this…” followed by the tune sung or la-la-la’ed hopefully in a recognizable manner.  It doesn’t sound like the artist who originally recorded it, but enough is there for us to say, “Oh, yes!”  We don’t demand absolute fidelity to the artist’s voice, style, and talent.  We can still identify the tune; our minds and enthusiasm for the piece make up for what is lacking in our friend’s rendition.

            Parables are Jesus’ way of reminding folks that life in God’s kingdom goes something like this.  The many parables recorded in the Gospels invariably are introduced in this manner: The kingdom of heaven may be compared to…, that is, “The kingdom of heaven goes something like this…”  For us to “get it,” it is vital that we keep in mind that what follows is a comparison, a likeness, a story about.  Parables are stories with a point, a punchline.  They are told with a specific purpose in mind.  Jesus is not describing life in all its complexity but telling us specific things because life is complex.  He looks his disciples in the eye, saying, “Now hear this!!!”  Even then, particularly in Matthew’s gospel, the disciples ask him to explain lest they miss the punchline.  They, and sadly we, are often slow on the uptake or misconstrue Jesus’ loving though bracing words to us.  Our distracted minds and inattentive lives make it difficult to make the connections to life and living that Jesus desires for us.  Yet Jesus’ parables don’t simply lay down rigid rules of behavior or belief.  They invite us into the art of discerning how best to live, given our situation and setting.

            We are people of divided hearts, the psalmist tells us [Ps 86:11], anticipating St. Paul’s comments we heard two weeks ago: I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. [Romans 7:15]  Parables are intended for folks like us.  They give us the opportunity to step back and consider specific challenges in our lives: the interwoven presence of good and bad, being prepared to act versus getting caught empty handed, recognizing the need for a firm footing in life versus getting swept along or even away for not having our feet on the ground, just to name a few parable-challenges.

            Sunday’s gospel [Matthew 13:24-30, 36-40] focuses on the good and the bad in this world.  Jesus’ parable likens this tension to good grain planted and then compromised by nasty weeds unleashed in the same plot.  The quick answer [not always the best!] would be to rip out the weeds, but Jesus’ parable CliffNotes© remind us that the weeds are tangled with the grain.  Pull up the weeds – you pull up the wheat with them.

            We’d love to have a life with no weeds, but the psalmist, Paul, and the Gospel writers all remind us that such a reality is not ours.  We are broken, suspicious, selfish, anxious, afraid, our minds clouded by suffering.  Our family, friends, and associates may feel like they get tangled in our weedy actions.  We experience this as well with others.  Our only choice is to cultivate a garden not entirely without weeds.  Like the farmer with a lazy fig tree, Jesus encourages us to be patient, not only with the plant, but ourselves.  Dandelions, crabgrass, bindweed, and the like are part of the life around us.  Were I to eradicate the “impervious clay subsoil” [official geographical term] in my yard I would be left with a large crater.  So, I learn to live with clay lurking.

            This hard-won patience helps us fathom that God in Christ is a God who is slow to anger and full of kindness and truth. [Psalm 86:15b]  While we might choose the vengeance and retribution behind Door A to solve our problems, God continues to nurture the recalcitrant fig, tends weed-infested grain with care, and rejoices in the T-tiniest glimmer of faith the size of a mustard seed.  God’s choice [and rightful place!] is to sort out the good from the problematic, winnowing, purifying, and giving this battered and abused creation the necessary spit-polish to present us and all God’s handiwork at the eternal banquet of grace.  We begin to discover the Spirit’s quiet presence, calling us, guiding us, and leading us out of the sufferings of the present age [Romans 8:18], which appear not all that important when we get a clearer glimpse of the loving work of Christ in our lives. The truth is, there simply is no other God than the one who so wondrously, patiently, graciously cares for us [Isaiah 44:6-8].  Or something like that…