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Rez is a community where Jesus welcomes, shapes, and sends disciples for the good of our neighborhood. No matter where you are in life, this is a place for you.
Life Together In The Goodness Of God
My abuelo, Tiffany, you're here, my cousin. She knows what I'm talking about. Patricio Lucero Tires, right? Ticho would call him. He was a farmer in El Paso, Texas, where all of our family is from, and I have very fond memories of visiting his house. He had a full head of white hair, which is really good news for me, right? I see a head. I see what's going on. I'm like, thank you, Ticho. And when we would come to his house, there was, I don't know if you have, I know you have memories like this. You can kind of, certain memories you can smell, you remember by smell. I have this, there's a smell of this farm that I can't get out of my head. And when we would arrive and eat, sometimes he would go to his backyard farm, which is massive, a huge piece of property, and he would pick a calabaza and sandia for us and bring it into the kitchen, cut it up, cook it, and we would have this family meal together. Again, those smells. Last week, I don't know if you even knew this, Tiffany, but we celebrated the 108th year of Patricio's life. He's not with us anymore, but he was truly a saint. And fun fact, and I'll talk about this later, and in fact, I have a picture. His wife, Mayuelita, was a nun. So we'll talk about that later. Who had 15 kids, no joke. Well, while we're remembering his life, his 108th year, my brother pulls up this video at my parents' house, and we're watching Ticho tend to his garden, his farm, and he's walking around like his typical sort of West Texas with his buckle and sort of hobbling around with his shovel and tending to the land, and he's got a farmhand with him, and he's moving dirt, and his farm looks totally flooded, but it's actually just being irrigated, and he's moving the dirt to move the water into the right channels and to feed to water his entire farm. He had a wisdom of tending to the land, as I noticed this, that I just have no idea what he's doing. And I noticed in the video, too, there was not only like corn stalk and vegetation and produce, but there were also weeds all over the place. It looked overgrown in places, and I thought, wow, this is like a thing. And this is the first thing that came to mind about this reading that we just heard from the Gospels. There's a certain kind of wisdom that farmers have about tending to the land that maybe, I know some of us have, but many of us do not have. Jesus told a story that we read in the Gospel about a farmer that had that same kind of wisdom looking at the crop. An enemy sows weeds among the wheat while the farmer sleeps. And when the wheat begins to grow, the weeds also grow with it, and the servants come to the farmer and ask, do you want us to pull them out, those weeds, so we can clear the land and just have the wheat? And the farmer says, no, because if you pull the weeds, you'll also uproot the wheat with it. Let them both grow together until the harvest. Now, the parable's first word to us is this. Don't sort the weeds and the wheat. Because, not because it doesn't matter, not because we want the weeds, no, it does matter. Don't sort, but because we are not equipped to tell the difference. And sometimes even in telling the difference that we think, we uproot way too much. We do damage to the crop. We'll pull up the wheat along with the weeds. Everybody tracking with me? This is like a pretty obvious parable, right? And the disciples wanted to get in there and clean things up, a temptation that I feel about so many things, right? Get in there, get my hands on it, take care of it. But the farmer says, you don't know what you're dealing with. So the disciples and us hearing this gospel reading need to step back a little bit and think, okay, what wisdom is at hand here that we're not aware of? And this is where Paul says something I think quite similar, maybe from a slightly different angle. We don't even know how to pray as we ought. But the spirit, the very spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words. In our own farm of our soul, right? It's not just that we can't tell the difference of weeds and wheat, or that when we try to uproot our own weeds, we can't even diagnose the problem. We can't even say what we actually need to the Lord oftentimes. We don't even know how to pray as we ought. This is what Romans 7 told us, that I am like trapped in this body of sin. You remember this reading from last week? Who will deliver me from this body of death? We can't tell the difference, and sometimes we can't even articulate what we need to God in prayer. We're not equipped to sort out ourselves because we can't even see ourselves clearly enough to know what to ask for oftentimes. And if we're honest, probably more often than we're comfortable with admitting. We don't even know what to ask for. One theologian I really love here reads between the lines here and interprets the wheat and the weeds as belief and unbelief, which is I think a helpful sort of simplification here for a couple of reasons. It's not just that there's belief in the church, maybe in us, and there's unbelief out in the world, but also there is belief and unbelief even in the church and even in us. I mean, at least for me, I believe, help my unbelief. Those things are so closely together in my life. That mix, it not only runs through me, but it runs through our community and through the world, I think, if we're honest. You check on us on Sunday mornings, and we've got the incense going, and the vestments, and everybody's like, yeah, Jesus. And then Tuesday, we've got weeds springing up in our lives. We're running down the freeway, giving people the bird. I don't know what you guys do. You know what I'm talking about? I mean, I never do that. Just saying it, I've heard it happens. And the parable speaks really plainly and clearly to us about this. When we have the wheat and the weeds in our lives, don't sort it out. Don't sort it out in others either. That's really where I think it's a little bit tricky for us. Why? Paul says you can't even sort it out yourself, let alone sort it out in others. We know it's not to say that something's not wrong. We know something's wrong. Something needs to be pulled out in our lives, uprooted in our lives. Yeah, we need that change. But we are actually not equipped to make that change for ourselves. This is not our work to do, nor is it anyone's work to do, but the Lord's. And friends, I think you would immediately hear this as refreshing and good news if you have been trying to uproot weeds in your life for too long, and you feel stuck, you feel desperate, and you feel frustrated. To find out that there is a God, a farmer God, who can tell the difference, who can pull those weeds in ways that you never could, who knows what God's actually dealing with. That's good news, right? That's liberation for us. But even knowing that, sometimes we keep trying. We take another hack at it, we keep trying anyway. The world, we look in the world and we see this happening readily. The world sorts out its own weeds and wheat. State violence is one of the most prominent instruments of sorting in the world. People who have documentation, people who do not have documentation. And enforcing that sorting with all kinds of ungodly force and judgments that do real damage to us and to our neighbors. I don't even want to go there, but we should talk about this. The continued murder of our neighbors by ICE agents, again and again. I get concerned that I see this too much and I'm sort of thinking, okay, well, another one, as if it's a normal thing. It's not a normal thing. This sort of mentality, this logic that we see in the world in that example, really clearly, it presumes a verdict about people and then delivers a judgment. And often with violence. And the damage, the evil that that does in the world is unacceptable. And it's not just out there. The church has done this too. We're actually known for this. I don't know if you know this. I hope you don't, but like, we're known for this. We're really good at this. Pitting ourselves against the world, judging others in God's name even. Now I'm starting to meddle, huh? This is uncomfortable, my goodness. Who's a weed and who's wheat? If you're gay or straight, well, that helps us tell. That's been a big one for us in the church. If you're male or female, all the ladies are like, yeah, right? Tell the truth. If you're black or brown or white, if you're righteous in the way we know righteousness or unrighteous in the way that we determine, if you're pure or impure, rich or poor, we're really good at sorting people, aren't we? And the parable is a loud, resounding revelation to us. It should be. This isn't your job. You don't know what you're dealing with. And a little bit of like, hey, you know what? Have you looked at yourself? You're a mess. Human beings, society at large, we fabricate these lines as instruments of power. And I think Jesus is putting the finger on the wound here in this parable by saying, this isn't just like general power. This is an instrument of the evil one. This is what makes people children of the devil, these kinds of sorting and instruments and violence. The good news is that God actually knows what God is doing. God sees clearly. We think we do. We think very highly of ourselves. Well, I'll say I think very highly of myself when I come to like judging the world and myself. I'm like, no, I got this on lock, right? But God actually sees so much more clearly than I could ever see. We pray. You just prayed. To you, all hearts are open. All desires known. Listen to this part. Do you know this part? And from you, no secrets are hid. Did you hear that? When you prayed it, does it ever sting a little bit? Like, oh, but it's good news. The good news is that we don't have to hide anything. In fact, we we can't hide anything. And God knows us better than we know ourselves. God knows this world better than we know the world. And the good news gets better when we learn exactly what kind of God this is that knows all and sees all to whom no secrets are hid. What kind of God is this? The news keeps getting better. It's not an oppressive God. Do you have that view of God? The sort of like angry parent, oppressive view, always disappointed in you sort of view of God. That's not God. That's not God. God's really kind, actually. God's really good. God is trustworthy. God is true. God is love. And it's that kind of God that sees us clearly. We feel that take a deep breath, everybody. That's that's good news. And this is the God who sees us clearly and doesn't shame us and turn us away and cast us into darkness, but calls us home. Calls us home with God. It is the same God that is also determined to not let evil run unchecked in this world. That same gracious and kind and loving God seeks justice, sets things right. And those who perpetrate evil should be afraid of the judgment of God. The Lord will tend to the gardens and the farms of wheat and weeds that run through our lives and in the world. And we can trust that this God will do this really well. It again reminds me of my well, Ticho, kind of like that, tending to things, moving dirt around, leaving weeds, all kinds of wisdom that I just look at and admire and think this is amazing. This is that kind of God, unhurried, directing those streams of water into the dry parts of our soul and our life and this world and tending to those things that need tending to most. Even things we're not aware of or don't want to be tended to sometimes. But God is good, patient, trustworthy for this work. And that means, friends, our invitation and response is that we can entrust ourselves to this good God. He cares for us. Between now with our weeds and our wheat and all the things that are in our lives, between now and the harvest, we are not asked to sort. That's a strange thought, isn't it? We're not asked to sort. We are called to seed, to participate with the watering, with the tending, with the growing. And this looks like acts of love, not judgment, mercy, not exclusion, solidarity, generosity. This is what it looks like, friends, in these very humble and meager signs that we often write off as like not doing much. This is the farmer tending to the world, cultivating the kingdom of God, breaking in to our lives in this real world. And it takes some faith. It takes a decision, actually, I think, to say, I believe that is true. Because it doesn't come naturally, at least not to me. I have to intend myself to say, I believe that my acts of love, even when unseen, are actually cultivating the kingdom of God in my life, in my neighbors' lives, and in this world. These are good acts, and these are the things we're called to do. And compare that, this tending to the garden and the farm in our lives, compare that to policing the boundary of everyone else's life. You see the difference? One sounds so much better, honestly. Not only for you, but for other people. Like, get out of my business, you know? How many times have you heard that? Tend to the garden in your own life with the Lord, who cares for you. And trust that God will tend to the garden in other people's lives, because God cares for them way more than you do. Jesus ends his parable with, the righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their father. The righteous. He's not talking about people who sorted themselves out. I know somebody needs, I needed to hear this. When Jesus talks about the righteous, he's not talking about perfect people. He's talking about sinners, who have entrusted themselves to be sorted out by God. Who have submitted their lives to the care of God. And said, yes, Lord. He's not talking about people who have pulled themselves up by their spiritual bootstraps. And sorted out their own business before they came to the Lord's care. The righteous are those who entrust themselves to our Lord. Who open themselves intentionally. And that takes trust and faith. It does. It's risky. Because you're not in control of God. Opening yourselves and entrusting yourself to the one who alone can do this work. Of not only sorting, but cultivating, watering, bringing life. Some of us here need to hear this, I think. Be kind to yourself. Man, you have taken like a machete to your soul, trying to clear out the brush. And probably done some damage. You may be trying to pull weeds in yourself and in others with maybe even like so-called good intentions, I'm sure. But you're not as good as you hoped, huh? And the result can be things like shame. Isolation and secrecy. Damage. Feeling like this isn't going to go anywhere. Others need to hear this. The weeds in your life that feel like you're, that are taking over things, that are overgrowing your soul, that are taking up way too much space in your life. God sees those and cares about those more than you do. Do you know that even in your suffering and in your struggle, God grieves about that more than you do? The pain that you experience. The frustration. Yeah, God knows about that too. And with us, with that solidarity, we can then trust that the God who walks with us and knows our pains and knows that frustration will also tend to our lives and liberate us and bring the harvest. And this work, friends, has already begun in Jesus Christ, the one who is raised from the dead, who lives and reigns now. And his kingdom is breaking in. Where, let me ask, if I can leave you with these questions, where have you been sorting someone else when that work belongs to God? What would it look like to offer yourself and them to God's tending rather than trying to fix and control only what God can do? Where have you been trying to sort out and solve your own stuff without the help of God? Being harsh on yourself and not even maybe realizing that you just can't do that stuff without God. Maybe the invitation to you looks like entrusting even your own soul to the care of God more. And by the way, friends, that also looks like entrusting yourself to one another, to each other's care. This, friends, is actually the very unsexy, very boring, mundane work of repentance. This is what repentance really looks like, realizing our frailty, our brokenness, our weeds, and then doing something about that that's not self-centered or vain or honestly just like useless. Instead, trusting and trusting ourselves and our lives to the one who reigns, the one who knows what they're doing, the one God who sees clearly even when we can't, the one who still lives with us and is present to us. This morning, I hope I could provoke all of us just a little bit. Let yourselves be open to God and invite his tending into your life. Sit with these questions for just a brief moment of silence as we're about to take and listen and submit yourself to the care of the God who cares for you. Amen? Let's take a moment of silence.