Sunday, July 23, 2023

The Foolishness of Love--July 24, 2023




The Foolishness of Love--July 24, 2023

[Jesus] put before [the crowds] another parable: “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to someone who sowed good seed in his field; but while everybody was asleep, an enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat, and then went away. So when the plants came up and bore grain, then the weeds appeared as well. And the slaves of the householder came and said to him, ‘Master, did you not sow good seed in your field? Where, then, did these weeds come from?’ He answered, ‘An enemy has done this.’ The slaves said to him, ‘Then do you want us to go and gather them?’ But he replied, ‘No; for in gathering the weeds you would uproot the wheat along with them...." [Matthew 13:24-29]

Love that isn't willing to look foolish for the sake of the beloved is just pretending.  If it's real love, it's willing to put up with coming across as silly, weak, and feeble to anybody watching.  That's part of how love bears.

And as Jesus makes it clear from this story many of us heard this Sunday in worship, that is how God loves.  God is always more committed to preserving what is precious to God than managing the divine reputation.  In other words, God is more deeply invested in saving you than in saving face, and God doesn't have some need to look "strong" or "tough" or "like a winner."  You are more important to God than God's ego.  Wow.

That really is what this story is about.  The premise is simple enough: a farmer plants good seed on his field, and expects wheat to grow up.  But when an enemy comes along and plants weeds (sometimes called "tares" or "bearded darnels," based on the word Matthew uses in the Greek) in the field too, just to be rotten, the farmer is left with his wheat harvest growing alongside these tares.  Now there's a dilemma: what to do with a wheat field that is also full of a bumper crop of weeds?  The farm hands all want to pull out the weeds, because, well, they're weeds, right?  If they let the weeds stay in the field, the farmer (and his staff) will look ridiculous!  It will send the message that the enemy has won!  He'll be cackling off in his lair somewhere, gloating in the belief that he's bested this farmer.  And meanwhile everyone else in town will be laughing themselves to tears over the farmer who (they think) is wasting water, time, and fertilizer on a mixed bag of good wheat and useless tares.  

The farm hands are worried that their boss will be a laughingstock, and so their advice is to take the "tough guy" approach. They need to project strength.  They need to make the boss look like a winner, and they certainly can't let that no-good enemy get away with thinking he's one-upped their employer.  So they propose pulling out the weeds--that way the enemy will know he hasn't won--what the villain did in the dark of night, they'll undo in the daylight, just to show him that he's not victorious... right?  Well, the trouble is, the farmer himself knows that the wheat and the tares are intertwined at the root--you can't pull one up with out risking damage to the other.   And so, the real choice is whether the farmer wants to keep his ego intact at the risk of damaging his harvest, or keeping the crops safe even if it means looking like a loser.  Will the farmer insist on burnishing his reputation or preserving what he considers precious?  And is his ego so needy that he must look like a "winner" at all times, or can he play the waiting game for the sake of saving the wheat?

Well, you know the answer: in Jesus' story, the farmer is more committed to saving his wheat harvest than in sticking it to his enemy. He's willing to bear whatever mockery, whatever criticism, and whatever damage to his reputation might come with the choice not to uproot any of his wheat, even though that means leaving the weeds where they are for now, and worse still, letting the enemy think he's wont.  The farmer is more interested in the welfare of the wheat than in what anybody else thinks of him, even the old enemy himself.  That's what genuine love does--it bears with risk of looking foolish or weak, because it is more interested in the well-being of the beloved.  That's true whether it's a lone individual, a field full of wheat, or a world full of people.  God's love means God is willing to look like a loser in the eyes of the world for the sake of saving us.  Ultimately that's what the cross means, too--that God chooses to redeem the world, not through conquering angel armies who could destroy all opposition and show glory and power, but through the weakness and foolishness that are the cross.  God is willing to risk that the very world God loves is mocking the one nailed to a Roman death stake. God is willing to bear that the powers of evil will think they've won because God hasn't immediately uprooted their dastardly plans.  God is willing to put up with all of that, because that's what love does.

My goodness, it is an amazing thought to realize that God loves you more than God's own ego.  But it's true.  And when you realize that, maybe you also find yourself starting to let go of the old egotistical need always to look "right" or "smart" or "tough" or like a "winner."  Maybe we don't need to impress anybody else in all creation--after all, God is done with needing to impress, too.

Lord Jesus, thank you for the lengths you have gone to for the love of us.  Let the truth of that love hit home.


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