The Eternal Divorce
Sermon
No Post-Easter Slump
Gospel Sermons for Sundays after Pentecost (First Third)
Object:
What's your first image when you hear these parables describing the kingdom of God in Matthew 13? Remember that the kingdom of God defines the reign of God; that is, wherever God reigns, there is the kingdom. Our danger, of course, is to know what the parables say before reading them, either because the stories are too familiar; or, we quote bits and pieces out of context; or, we forget that they represent only a part of the good news.
Unlike some of us, Jesus was no cynic. Not once during his misunderstood, misjudged life did he throw up his hands, and cry out, "What's the use? I can do nothing for the highest creation. They insist on going to hell; so let them go. Everyone's going to the dogs. Let them go!" No, Jesus, despite his horrible death, refused to look at, relate to, the world through pessimistic eyes.
Jesus, also, was no blind, giddy, utopian optimist either. No biblical author records anywhere that Jesus saw an easy way out of the human condition. No one put these shallow words into Jesus' mouth: "People and events are getting better and better. With a little more education, enlightenment, people will create their own heaven." No indeed, Jesus never looked at us humans through rose-colored glasses.
Indeed, this carpenter-savior knew precisely what is in us. His look could penetrate every social smile to unmask the real person. And because of his insight and awareness, he could bring together a healthy relationship between pessimism, which leads to despair, and optimism, which leads to illusion. In the parable of the wheat and the weeds, he shows us how.
I
Jesus begins the story on a vigorous note. "The kingdom of heaven is like a person who sowed good seed in his field." Jesus wasted no words. Then, just as quickly, as with many of Jesus' parables, it took a sudden reverse turn. He offers no explanation as to why. "While the farm hands were sleeping, the farmer's enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat." What a rotten trick, even more rotten than it appears on the surface. The midnight gardener picked a weed which the farmer could not distinguish immediately from the wheat. Not until the wheat blossomed did the farmer discover that his enemy had sprinkled the field with the subtle weed. What should he do? The farm hands insisted, "Pull the weeds out! Now!" However, while pulling out the darnel, they would also pull out much of the wheat. So, the farmer, in his wisdom, decided to let them grow together.
Now, even though we find the parable interesting, what exactly did Jesus want the disciples and us to know? Simply this. The good and evil live and grow together, within the same community, same world. For God makes the sun rise on the evil and good, and sends rain on the just and unjust. God provides both the same atmosphere; breathing the same air, polluted or pure; feeling warmth from the same sun; sharing the same bus; residing in the same neighborhood. The just and unjust live side by side, sometimes under the same roof. The farmer refused to succumb to the demands of the hired hands. "Let's pull out the weeds!" Those farm hands had no zeal for tolerating the mixture, no desire for coexistence.
Isn't this our usual approach? Isn't this how we prefer to handle the difficult situation, the intolerable person? Years ago, when only the United States owned the atomic bomb, some people, inside and outside of the church, urged our leaders, "Blast the Soviets while we still have the chance!" We disagree with the teacher or pastor; so, either we try to remove the person, or if we can't do that, we remove ourselves and our children. We make certain assumptions about certain people, so we eliminate them from our communities by establishing laws which keep them out.
II
We see that neither the farmer nor Jesus handled matters that way at all. Let them grow together. Of course, it's dangerous. Maybe evil, at least temporarily, maybe for centuries, will overpower the truth. The opposite also may work. The good may have, often does have, a powerful life-changing influence on the evil. We see that happen among husbands and wives, between parents and children. We have learned the absolute necessity of coexistence or no-existence.
Again, we may experience this truth in our home. A husband and wife may find themselves at opposite poles intellectually or spiritually. (How did they ever get together in the first place? If we've ever been married, we know.) How will they deal with their crisis? Pull out? Run away? Get divorced? Not if this parable means what it says, corroborated in 1 Corinthians 7. "A man who has a non-Christian wife who is willing to live with him should not divorce her. A wife, in a similar position, should not divorce her husband. For the unbelieving husband is in a sense 'consecrated' by being joined to his wife; the unbelieving wife is similarly 'consecrated' by the Christian husband she has married ... And, after all, how can you, who are a wife, know whether you will be able to save your husband or not? And the same applies to you who are a husband." "Let them grow together," insist Jesus and Paul. We have no idea how one will influence the other. Obviously, this is dangerous living. The good may give in to the evil. Evil attitudes and influences may swamp the good, at least temporarily, often permanently.
Jesus takes this risk with us when he permits the good and evil to live side-by-side. Because of our mixed-existence, Jesus' keynote address to us highlights the words "patience" and "perseverance." These words fall on deaf ears to many Americans, many Christians. "Patience, perseverance accomplish nothing. Waiting takes too much time. I want what I want now!" Think of young marrieds, with or without parental help, who buy, through credit cards, everything the first year of their marriage, which took their parents fifteen or twenty years to accumulate. And so, as lemmings rushing headlong into the sea, we rush headlong into financial, then emotional, then spiritual oblivion. Nels Ferr‚ correctly warns, "The less we are willing to wait, the less we believe in God." "Root out the evil now, at least the evil in others," we insist. "Patience, perseverance, let the two grow together," Jesus insists. Certainly, Jesus hates evil. He wants it rooted out more than we, not through foolhardy impatience, but through loving patience.
III
The parable does end on a note of judgment. The farmer, at harvest time, must separate the wheat for the hayloft, and toss the darnel into the fire. The farmer knew, if he wanted to harvest a usable crop, he would need to wait until threshing time.
According to the parable, we are no different. As tasteless as the final judgment is to us, still, we will face it as victors or victims. On the last day, or our last day, Christ will separate the evil, or perhaps, the evil will separate itself, from all of society, from all godly influences, not necessarily to a fiery furnace, but to a state or place from which all influences of God exist. The righteous, that is, the ones who have accepted the righteousness of God for their lives, take up eternal residence in God's kingdom. The unrighteous, those who say "No" to God, are delivered to eternal punishment or separation. Sounds cruel, doesn't it, especially with a loving God, to think that some live forever apart from God, while others "enjoy God forever." When we grasp the significance of life, of eternity with or apart from God, we begin to understand the terror and horror of hell, apart from all that is holy, just, pure. "It's not fair!" some plead. "No loving God would ever do this to anyone, no matter how evil; surely, we must have a second chance after we die," others hope. No wonder that many of us, for all practical purposes, believe in no hell, or only hell on earth, or hell only for those whom we hate and despise.
We can blame God all we want. We can insist that life isn't fair. The fact remains, however, that we choose. Each day, we decide to live as God's person or our own. We judge ourselves by our lives, by the fruits of our decisions. Still, we may protest, "If people really had an honest chance to see and explore the kingdom, they would choose nothing less than the kingdom." Really? Do we not often choose exactly the opposite of what will do us, and those around us, the most good? We know precisely what we need to do for healthy relationships, and then, turn around and act as though we never hear our inner voice. We know the results of our destructive actions; yet we go right on doing those behaviors that get us into trouble anyway. If we have ever had an extramarital affair, study the process. Where did we get the idea that the beginning of eternity transforms our entire personality from evil to good in a flash? It seems logical to believe that evil people continue their evil pursuits, while good persons, more than ever, choose to please God.
Still, some insist, "I have a neighbor (or relative) who does not believe in the Christ. He's such a good man. Surely, God wouldn't have the heart to keep him out of the kingdom." Check out your assumptions. Ask that person if he wants to spend eternity with God. If he says, "Yes," ask him how much time he spends with God now. If he spends little or no time with God now, why should he want to spend eternity with God? God gives us the freedom to decide to be in hell, to go to hell. That's how much God loves us.
According to this parable, final separation occurs. Divorce is an ugly sight, any way we look at it. Eternal divorce from God horrifies the sensitive, and not so sensitive, mind. Perhaps some of us have no great concern about our, or another's, eternal destiny. Perhaps we believe that God will welcome all of us into the pearly gates. We can play games around God and eternity all we want, pretending we are in when we are not. Now however, during the light, now is the hour to decide. Jesus gives us plenty of warning. "The way is narrow that leads to eternal life, and few there are who shall find it."
The wheat and weeds grow together. The day comes, sooner than we want or expect, when they, and we, are separated and treated differently. "And that's the truth," as Lily Tomlin insists.
Unlike some of us, Jesus was no cynic. Not once during his misunderstood, misjudged life did he throw up his hands, and cry out, "What's the use? I can do nothing for the highest creation. They insist on going to hell; so let them go. Everyone's going to the dogs. Let them go!" No, Jesus, despite his horrible death, refused to look at, relate to, the world through pessimistic eyes.
Jesus, also, was no blind, giddy, utopian optimist either. No biblical author records anywhere that Jesus saw an easy way out of the human condition. No one put these shallow words into Jesus' mouth: "People and events are getting better and better. With a little more education, enlightenment, people will create their own heaven." No indeed, Jesus never looked at us humans through rose-colored glasses.
Indeed, this carpenter-savior knew precisely what is in us. His look could penetrate every social smile to unmask the real person. And because of his insight and awareness, he could bring together a healthy relationship between pessimism, which leads to despair, and optimism, which leads to illusion. In the parable of the wheat and the weeds, he shows us how.
I
Jesus begins the story on a vigorous note. "The kingdom of heaven is like a person who sowed good seed in his field." Jesus wasted no words. Then, just as quickly, as with many of Jesus' parables, it took a sudden reverse turn. He offers no explanation as to why. "While the farm hands were sleeping, the farmer's enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat." What a rotten trick, even more rotten than it appears on the surface. The midnight gardener picked a weed which the farmer could not distinguish immediately from the wheat. Not until the wheat blossomed did the farmer discover that his enemy had sprinkled the field with the subtle weed. What should he do? The farm hands insisted, "Pull the weeds out! Now!" However, while pulling out the darnel, they would also pull out much of the wheat. So, the farmer, in his wisdom, decided to let them grow together.
Now, even though we find the parable interesting, what exactly did Jesus want the disciples and us to know? Simply this. The good and evil live and grow together, within the same community, same world. For God makes the sun rise on the evil and good, and sends rain on the just and unjust. God provides both the same atmosphere; breathing the same air, polluted or pure; feeling warmth from the same sun; sharing the same bus; residing in the same neighborhood. The just and unjust live side by side, sometimes under the same roof. The farmer refused to succumb to the demands of the hired hands. "Let's pull out the weeds!" Those farm hands had no zeal for tolerating the mixture, no desire for coexistence.
Isn't this our usual approach? Isn't this how we prefer to handle the difficult situation, the intolerable person? Years ago, when only the United States owned the atomic bomb, some people, inside and outside of the church, urged our leaders, "Blast the Soviets while we still have the chance!" We disagree with the teacher or pastor; so, either we try to remove the person, or if we can't do that, we remove ourselves and our children. We make certain assumptions about certain people, so we eliminate them from our communities by establishing laws which keep them out.
II
We see that neither the farmer nor Jesus handled matters that way at all. Let them grow together. Of course, it's dangerous. Maybe evil, at least temporarily, maybe for centuries, will overpower the truth. The opposite also may work. The good may have, often does have, a powerful life-changing influence on the evil. We see that happen among husbands and wives, between parents and children. We have learned the absolute necessity of coexistence or no-existence.
Again, we may experience this truth in our home. A husband and wife may find themselves at opposite poles intellectually or spiritually. (How did they ever get together in the first place? If we've ever been married, we know.) How will they deal with their crisis? Pull out? Run away? Get divorced? Not if this parable means what it says, corroborated in 1 Corinthians 7. "A man who has a non-Christian wife who is willing to live with him should not divorce her. A wife, in a similar position, should not divorce her husband. For the unbelieving husband is in a sense 'consecrated' by being joined to his wife; the unbelieving wife is similarly 'consecrated' by the Christian husband she has married ... And, after all, how can you, who are a wife, know whether you will be able to save your husband or not? And the same applies to you who are a husband." "Let them grow together," insist Jesus and Paul. We have no idea how one will influence the other. Obviously, this is dangerous living. The good may give in to the evil. Evil attitudes and influences may swamp the good, at least temporarily, often permanently.
Jesus takes this risk with us when he permits the good and evil to live side-by-side. Because of our mixed-existence, Jesus' keynote address to us highlights the words "patience" and "perseverance." These words fall on deaf ears to many Americans, many Christians. "Patience, perseverance accomplish nothing. Waiting takes too much time. I want what I want now!" Think of young marrieds, with or without parental help, who buy, through credit cards, everything the first year of their marriage, which took their parents fifteen or twenty years to accumulate. And so, as lemmings rushing headlong into the sea, we rush headlong into financial, then emotional, then spiritual oblivion. Nels Ferr‚ correctly warns, "The less we are willing to wait, the less we believe in God." "Root out the evil now, at least the evil in others," we insist. "Patience, perseverance, let the two grow together," Jesus insists. Certainly, Jesus hates evil. He wants it rooted out more than we, not through foolhardy impatience, but through loving patience.
III
The parable does end on a note of judgment. The farmer, at harvest time, must separate the wheat for the hayloft, and toss the darnel into the fire. The farmer knew, if he wanted to harvest a usable crop, he would need to wait until threshing time.
According to the parable, we are no different. As tasteless as the final judgment is to us, still, we will face it as victors or victims. On the last day, or our last day, Christ will separate the evil, or perhaps, the evil will separate itself, from all of society, from all godly influences, not necessarily to a fiery furnace, but to a state or place from which all influences of God exist. The righteous, that is, the ones who have accepted the righteousness of God for their lives, take up eternal residence in God's kingdom. The unrighteous, those who say "No" to God, are delivered to eternal punishment or separation. Sounds cruel, doesn't it, especially with a loving God, to think that some live forever apart from God, while others "enjoy God forever." When we grasp the significance of life, of eternity with or apart from God, we begin to understand the terror and horror of hell, apart from all that is holy, just, pure. "It's not fair!" some plead. "No loving God would ever do this to anyone, no matter how evil; surely, we must have a second chance after we die," others hope. No wonder that many of us, for all practical purposes, believe in no hell, or only hell on earth, or hell only for those whom we hate and despise.
We can blame God all we want. We can insist that life isn't fair. The fact remains, however, that we choose. Each day, we decide to live as God's person or our own. We judge ourselves by our lives, by the fruits of our decisions. Still, we may protest, "If people really had an honest chance to see and explore the kingdom, they would choose nothing less than the kingdom." Really? Do we not often choose exactly the opposite of what will do us, and those around us, the most good? We know precisely what we need to do for healthy relationships, and then, turn around and act as though we never hear our inner voice. We know the results of our destructive actions; yet we go right on doing those behaviors that get us into trouble anyway. If we have ever had an extramarital affair, study the process. Where did we get the idea that the beginning of eternity transforms our entire personality from evil to good in a flash? It seems logical to believe that evil people continue their evil pursuits, while good persons, more than ever, choose to please God.
Still, some insist, "I have a neighbor (or relative) who does not believe in the Christ. He's such a good man. Surely, God wouldn't have the heart to keep him out of the kingdom." Check out your assumptions. Ask that person if he wants to spend eternity with God. If he says, "Yes," ask him how much time he spends with God now. If he spends little or no time with God now, why should he want to spend eternity with God? God gives us the freedom to decide to be in hell, to go to hell. That's how much God loves us.
According to this parable, final separation occurs. Divorce is an ugly sight, any way we look at it. Eternal divorce from God horrifies the sensitive, and not so sensitive, mind. Perhaps some of us have no great concern about our, or another's, eternal destiny. Perhaps we believe that God will welcome all of us into the pearly gates. We can play games around God and eternity all we want, pretending we are in when we are not. Now however, during the light, now is the hour to decide. Jesus gives us plenty of warning. "The way is narrow that leads to eternal life, and few there are who shall find it."
The wheat and weeds grow together. The day comes, sooner than we want or expect, when they, and we, are separated and treated differently. "And that's the truth," as Lily Tomlin insists.
