St John the Baptist Anglican Church, Bulimba

St John the Baptist Anglican Church, Bulimba Welcome to St John's Anglican Church, Bulimba - a community of faith reaching out in loving service We warmly welcome you to St John’s.

Our prayer at St John's is that all ministry is centered and focused on God’s Will. Both Lay and Ordained ministry is equally valued and given thanks for. It is as varied as there are people within the church and as such is difficult to easily define. What is true is the prayer from the people, their gentle care, repect and encouragement of each other forms one of the marks of God’s Spirit which i

s crucial to a healthy community which is so evident here. Our Church is a vibrant Church, yet rich in tradition and history having served the people of Bulimba and surrounds since 1888. We welcome all people from all places!

9/11.On the morning of 11 September, 2001 (known as 9/11, as in the USA the month is dated first before the day), terror...
10/09/2026

9/11.

On the morning of 11 September, 2001 (known as 9/11, as in the USA the month is dated first before the day), terrorists from the radical group ‘Al Qaeda’ seized control of several commercial planes in the USA. Of the four seized two were flown into the twin towers of the World Trade Centre in New York, one was crashed into the Pentagon building and another crashed after passengers tried to regain control. That fourth plane is thought to have been headed towards Washington.

Over 3,000 people from all around the world lost their lives that day, including many from the emergency services who entered the burning buildings to respond to the crisis.

The action was horrific, an act of terror, claimed by some who had planned or supported the action as a response in retribution to the USA as the nation which had been most active in pursuing military action against several nations and peoples in the Middle East. As the terrorists, and the organisation which they represented, were all founded in radical expressions of Islam, this was interpreted by many as a ‘religious’ attack. Though the terrorists were all, it has been reported, citizens of Saudi Arabia, all of the peoples of that region and neighbouring counties have been held accountable for the actions of that day. That prejudice was then used to justify increased military actions against those places and peoples which had opposed USA policy and military actions in that region, including in Iran, Iraq, Afghanistan and other places.

The action in response also focussed on Osama bin Laden, the leader of Al Qaeda who was reported to have ordered the attack, along with those who planned and prepared for what was done. Several of those people were found, including bin Laden, and imprisoned or executed.

The response has significantly increased the suffering of the populations of the countries which were targeted and has increased resentment towards the USA, and its allies, in that region and in other predominantly Muslim nations around the world. Whether the form and degree of that response was justified, reasonable and effective will continue to be debated in the years ahead. In the USA the response has included hardening of attitudes towards immigration generally, towards followers of Islam who are citizens of the USA or any other country, and has increased and enabled a higher level of racism and xenophobia than was recognised before the event. Many of those trends continue to be seen today, 25 years later.

The event and response did bring an increase in patriotism and unity in the USA among those who were not associated in any way with the groups held responsible. The actions which followed did forge stronger bonds between the USA and its allies, bonds which have been strained under the policies and actions of the present USA government. The NATO charter allows any member nation to call upon assistance from other NATO members when attacked. The only time this has been enacted is by the USA in response to 9/11, and many NATO countries gave their support, and also entered into shared military actions.

The generosity and compassion of individuals and communities to the crisis is an important part of the story. Individual acts of care and generosity abounded for those who were caught up in the events, those who were wounded, those who were grieving, those in shock and distress. First responders revealed enormous courage and dedication. The small town of Gander in Canada welcomed and cared for thousands of stranded passengers when their planes were diverted and grounded there. The trauma for many people remains though and sensitivity is still needed as this day is remembered.

The ongoing changes to airline procedures and restrictions on air travel in many ways are continuing reminders that we live in a more fearful, less trusting, world, a place where people have, and still do, take advantage of opportunities to pursue their ideological agendas and to enact terror, justified by extremist and narrow perspectives. As we seek to listen to God, to follow Christ, to be examples of the good news, living signs of God’s compassion and love and hope, we are called to live from those values and aspirational qualities in all our engagement with the world and the people of the world around us.

Fear and anger in response to terror are understandable, natural reactions. Prejudice rises up so easily prompted by those emotions. Revenge may feel justifiable on that basis. Indiscriminate labelling of those whose religious expression, ethnicity, language and appearance is somehow associated with people who enacted terror can so easily become a way of segmenting humanity into opposing parcels.

We are called instead to love. Love does not simply wipe away all consequences for actions, but calls for honesty, responsibility, acknowledgement of life-denying sinful thoughts, words and actions and repentance. Where possible engagement in restorative justice, active engagement with reparations towards those harmed are to be sought. Inner transformation is the invitation, to redirect our lives from hatred and the limitations created by what is life-denying and towards love, towards God, towards hope.

May this day be a reminder of the worst of humanity, and the best, a reminder of the depths to which human beings can fall through hatred and violence, and the heights which can be found through compassion and love.

It may be asked, “Where was God on 9/11?” With Ellie Wiesel (in his novel about the Holocaust called ‘Night’) we may discern God’s presence among those who suffer, alongside them. I picture Christ that day in the heavy uniform of a first responder, running into one of the towers which had been attacked, giving assistance and hope and encouragement, laying down his life as so many of them did. I do not picture Christ with a weapon in hand exacting retribution, for warfare and violence are the resort of those who have given up on peace. This is not the place to argue whether war is ever justified (an argument which has rippled through the Church since at least Augustine of Hippo’s writings in the 4th century). Revenge is never a justification though and all discussions of ‘just war theory’ acknowledge that the manner of engagement matters, indiscriminate use of violence and obliteration of citizens are not justifiable. ‘Collateral damage’ is a sinful and morally vacuous description used to justify unjust actions in war.

Compassion for the vulnerable, the wounded, the grief stricken; for those whose lives were cut short by terror and by acts of retribution; for our world which has become a less secure, more fearful place; love as a way of being, to reach out to bring calm, peace and justice; and hope for a world in which, however much we may argue and disagree, each person is treated as a loved sister or brother, with respect. This is our call.

Paul Mitchell. 2026

23 August 2026. Pentecost 13. Stewardship Sermon  #3.  Mutually responsible and interdependent. I have a question for yo...
22/08/2026

23 August 2026. Pentecost 13. Stewardship Sermon #3.

Mutually responsible and interdependent.

I have a question for you. Take a moment to think about it then share your response with someone near you. (If you are reading this online please do that appropriately! You don’t want to get tossed off a bus or out of the cinema!!) The question is “Who do you say Jesus is?” This is not, first of all, a theological question looking for a doctrinally correct answer. It is personal. “Who is Jesus to YOU?”

You heard the gospel reading just now (Matthew 16:13-20). Jesus with his disciples at Caesarea Phillipi, Banias Spring, one of the places where the water which was snow on Mount Hermon in Lebanon, having melted and disappeared underground there, had resurfaced at one of the springs which became the source for the Jordan River and Lake Galilee. That place had shrines to many different Greek and Roman ‘gods’. In that context, in that scene, you can imagine Jesus pointing to all those different ways in which ‘the divine’ was displayed, even suggesting, ‘that is how other people see the divine’ ... “Who do people say the Son of Man is?”

The disciples, for all their confusion and the fact that they come across as thick many times (especially in Mark’s gospel), recognised immediately that Jesus was talking obliquely about the Messiah, the anointed one, the one who people expected God to send to sort out everything. So, Jesus then got more explicit, “Who do you say that I am?” Peter then got it right. It is called his ‘confession’. “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” Bingo. Exactly. Then Jesus draws a magnificent picture of the future unfolding of all that, but adds, ‘don’t say anything ... yet!’ Then Jesus tries to explain more of the picture and Peter goes from right on the button to way off the mark. Find your Bibles. Read on in chapter 16 to discover what I mean.

I have another question though. When Jesus asked, “Who do you say that I am?” why did he do that? Did Jesus want to know what they thought about him? Was it an answer TO him? I don’t think so. Jesus wasn’t trying to surround himself with people who would say great things about him. I could make a contrast with certain world leaders, but I will just leave that there. Jesus didn’t ask the question to hear great compliments. He didn’t even want just to know that his followers had been listening and got the point. The point is, when does that ‘saying’ happen? It was not ‘here and now, who are you saying I am’. This was a question for the rest of their lives.

Thinking of this in another way, when I was at school, and listening to other students, even at university, many seemed to treat what was being taught as something that needed regurgitating at the right moment, in an essay or exam, to show the teacher or examiner that the right information had been held, even fleetingly. To me that seems pointless, as if passing the subject or the degree was the point.

If we said, at Caesarea Phillipi Jesus gave the disciples an exam, which Peter was passing with flying colours, until, on the last page of the test, he said the wrong thing and failed miserably, how would that sound?

Jesus wasn’t asking, “Who do you say that I am?” to him. He was asking really – ‘who do you tell others who I am to you? What I mean to you?’ Like I just asked you to do with each other. I did add in the written version, for those who are reading this online, please do that appropriately! You don’t want to get tossed off a bus or out of the cinema!! There is a trend at the moment of people jumping up on planes and in other places disrespectfully and entering into long rants about Jesus, and damnation and other things, inappropriately.

When Jesus asks, “Who do you say that I am?”, “What do I mean to you?” the invitation is to consider deeply, prayerfully, carefully, and to be prepared to share that with people who matter to you in your lives, within relationship, with trust and respect, in conversation and invitation. Jesus didn’t ask, “Who are you going to tell people that I MUST mean to them?” The question from Jesus, “What do I mean to you?” is the invitation to find ways to articulate the life you find in the relationship which you have with Jesus, in God. It is an invitation to be able to put that into words, for another person, for at least one other person, and at the right time for anyone about whom you care, whom you love.

Now I have been in places where I have touched on this sort of message before, and had a variety of reactions, including someone who put into words what I am sure lots of people were thinking. A person in a previous parish said to me, “That’s not my job. It is your job” they said, pointing at me. Ah, the finger of self-assured authority!! Their job, they said, was just to come to Church. As for talking with anyone about Jesus, that was what I was ‘paid to do’, or so that person suggested. That person has now passed to glory, so they can take up that conversation directly with Jesus themselves.

One of the themes throughout the stewardship information which has been shared over the past three weeks is that ‘we are in this together’. What we are ‘in together’ is a shared relationship with Jesus, and we are together in deciding how we invite others to value what we value, to contribute towards sustaining the community in which we gather, and the work we do together. We are in this together.

I am actually looking forward to hearing who Jesus is to you. Please share that, not only with me, but with others, and find the courage to share that as well with others outside these walls. We each have a relationship to share.

One of the pieces of study which I have been doing in recent years is focussed on a document which is about as old as I am. It has the convoluted name of “Mutual Responsibility and Interdependence in the Body of Christ”. That document is first of all about mission and how the Anglican Church across the world has engaged in mission. But even more it is about relationships, partnership, entering into relationships with each other in and as the Church, with respect. We all have something to offer each other. My theology degrees do not make me superior to any of you in being in relationship with Jesus. The love between you and Jesus is a glorious, special, unique and wonderful thing, valuable beyond any comparison. Own that and celebrate it. Share it by owning the place Jesus has in your life.

We all have our unique perspective on Jesus to share. And we are each unique in other ways, with the gifts, financial capacity, availability, character and opportunities which go to make up who we are. All different. We are all ‘in this together’, and the sum total of all those different pieces of who we each are is the whole of what we have to enjoy, share, use, contribute to God for the flourishing of the invitation of God here in this place. That is the heart of Stewardship.

As part of being good stewards of all that has been entrusted to us, Jesus says to you, to me, to all of us, “What do you say that I am?” What do you say?

Amen.

Paul Mitchell.

16 August 2026. Giving as sharing love. Audacious or entitled? Audacious is a delightful word. Thinking of Mary Poppins,...
15/08/2026

16 August 2026. Giving as sharing love. Audacious or entitled?

Audacious is a delightful word. Thinking of Mary Poppins, it sounds almost precocious! The online definitions given a variety of meanings: Mirriam-Webster suggests that if you are audacious you are “intrepidly daring : adventurous; recklessly bold : rash; contemptuous of law, religion, or decorum : insolent (really???); or marked by originality and verve.” Another definition suggests that if you are audacious you are “showing a willingness to take surprisingly bold risks.”

I am perplexed by that definition which suggests contempt for ‘law, religion, or decorum’ because two of our readings today suggest that audacity is a biblical virtue! Think about that story in Genesis of Joseph and his brothers. We read just a snippet today (Genesis 45:1-15) of a much longer, more complex story, a saga of family spats, jealousy, intrigue, miracles and mystery and the hand of God working in surprising ways. The part before the piece we just read is a scene set by a famine in Palestine. Jacob, known also as Israel, sends his sons to Egypt to plead for food. They bring money, but, when there is great need, even selling food to those who want it is a choice.

The act of sending the sons to Egypt and of those men asking for assistance is audacious. It is a bold move. Certainly adventurous, not necessarily reckless, but there is plenty of verve. Unknown to the men who go, all brothers, sons of Jacob, is that the person who gets to make the decision about their request is their youngest brother, Joseph, who they sold off into slavery years before! Drama! That sets the scene.

If they had known who he was would they have still been prepared to go and ask for food? That would perhaps have been reckless. There is another piece in the story as well. This was their second visit. They came earlier, were quizzed by the man they thought was an Egyptian, and on their way home found that all the money they had paid had been stuffed in with the sacks of grain! Going back was risky because of that! Yet, in a time of need, they were audacious, went, and in what we read today discovered a plot line to their story none had imagined. That then sets the scene for much that follows in the story of the people of God.

The other piece of audacity is in today’s gospel reading, from Matthew 15:21-28. Jesus was wandering along with his mates, and this woman came up and made a fuss. They were on the very edge of, or even beyond, Jewish territory. The woman was a local, but she is described as if she were the foreigner. People in that part of the world kept to themselves a lot, didn’t mingle, particularly Jews who followed their religion very seriously, so interacting with a woman, a foreign woman, a brazen woman who flouted convention and wanted to be heard ... this was outrageous. Her audacity was there for everyone to see. How did Jesus respond? Their banter is often misunderstood, but feels more playful than insulting, as if they shared a private joke which others half heard and recorded.

Audacity can sometimes be misinterpreted as entitlement. I don’t see an attitude of entitlement in the group of brothers or on the Canaanite woman. Entitlement is the so-called influencer who insists on doing a podcast in a place where others are trying to go about their business or daily lives; or the travellers who go to another country and then insist on being served a meal with which they are familiar from home. These things happen. Entitlement comes with arrogance. Audacity, as we see it in those two stories, has confidence with humility. It is a request being made, a plea, an invitation for a response.

The brothers got the food they needed, and so much more. The woman got the healing for her daughter for which she pleaded, and so much more. In both situations the response to audacity was grace, a gift of love, a generosity which was beyond expectations.

We are all audacious at times. To love is an audacious act. To invite someone to love us is audacious. It can never be forced. Love, love shared, has all those elements of boldness and verve. The most recent wedding which I celebrated the couple chose that powerful passage from the Song of Songs (also known as the Song of Solomon), chapter 8, verses 6 and 7: “Close your heart to every love but mine; hold no one in your arms but me. Love is as powerful as death; passion is as strong as death itself. It bursts into flame and burns like a raging fire. Water cannot put it out; no flood can drown it. But if anyone tried to buy love with his wealth, contempt is all he would get.”

To love is to be vulnerable, to share yourself, to have the audacity to believe that what you offer will be accepted, welcomed, received, honoured, cherished, respected. Bold move! Love is an audacious act, and it is at the heart of so much of who we are and what we do here.

How do we show love? We are prepared to give, in response to needs we see, in response to requests, and over and above what is asked for or expected. As Joseph did in the story with his brother. As Jesus did in the story with the woman, whose name has sadly not been recorded.

There is audacity in stewardship programs, because there is hope mingled with confidence, infused with boldness, not recklessness but certainly willingness to place an invitation before a community to look deeply, to recognise a reality and opportunities, and to invite response. Stewardship programs are based in invitation, not entitlement. The needs are often clear, and they certainly are for us, resulting from the structure of our life as the community here, and the invitation to consider whether who we are, in the way that we are, should continue.

The invitation to give, of our time and commitment, our involvement and engagement, and to share our finances is not grounded in any requirement. When we each receive the financial documents during this week, and see the current financial projections and the draft of next year’s budget, that is not an invoice which must be paid. Most of us put on some hat of reluctance paying bills. Instead, it is an invitation to participate in sharing love, in the way we gather and celebrate and reach out as community here, in the ways in which we welcome, nurture and cherish life. The invitation to give is an invitation to share love. It is an audacious invitation. Loving is a journey of participation, of sharing, of hope.

What will be the fruit of this audacity? We will see. There may well be surprises. We will see. We can only be bold, and hopeful, for the story of the brothers, the story of Joseph, the story of the woman, the journey of Jesus, are all our stories and our journey too.

Amen.

Paul Mitchell.

First Sunday of Stewardship 2026. Remembering Mary Sumner. 9 August 2026.‘We have been blessed’.We are what we eat, so n...
08/08/2026

First Sunday of Stewardship 2026. Remembering Mary Sumner.
9 August 2026.
‘We have been blessed’.

We are what we eat, so nutritionists, dieticians, doctors and others may remind us. What we take into ourselves we become.
So, what has shaped you? For me, lots of curries, plenty of seafood, too many cakes and sweet things, chocolate beyond counting and, since drink and food are both necessary for life, water, orange juice, w**e, the occasional b**r, and lots of strong coffee! That is me. All bundled together with the air I have breathed and whatever else I have absorbed from the environment around me.

Some of what I have taken in, in that way, has been healthy and helped me to thrive. Some has had other effects on my body in the immediate or longer term. I happen to think lots of desserts, chocolate and particularly yummy things with plenty of sugar are delightful. My doctor and my cholesterol levels disagree. I enjoy a glass of w**e. As I have grown older, and perhaps wiser, I have realised that it is possible to have too much of a good thing in ways which make it no longer a good thing. I am who I am though, as a result of over 63 years of my diet and being immersed in this physical world.

That is not all that has shaped me, though. In John 15:1-8, as we read just now, when Jesus uses the image of the vine with branches and fruit, the growth which he describes, and longs to see, is not the nett sum of the water and nutrients dragged up from the soil by that vine, along with the oxygen and glucose sugar photosynthesised through its leaves. This is a metaphor being described which emphasises how important it is to remain connected to be able to grow.

People who stop eating, drinking and breathing cease to live. Branches which are cut off from the vine wither away. In the metaphor Jesus identifies the life-giving vine with himself, and calls for those who want to live to remain connected, to be nourished. Hunger strikes are a statement made at times by people who want to declare a particular belief, to show how strongly they support something or object to something else. It could be said that the branches which refuse to ‘abide’ which cut themselves off from the vine, take on a radical ‘hunger strike’. They refuse what is nourishing and life-giving because of some contrary belief or disruption to their attitude towards the source of life.

There may be many reasons why people feel God no longer connects for them. Painful grief, where meaning seems absent, can do that. The actions, and especially abuse, by those who claim to be part of the vine can do that as well. The metaphor speaks of ‘pruning’ but there are some branches of the Church which seem eager to prune off and exclude any part which does not look like they do, flower the same way, have exactly the same characteristics. That exclusion is not what Jesus is imagining. When we see branches doing the pruning like that it actually suggests that those branches have moved further and further away from the life-giving source. But many people in our world see that exclusionary practice and so don’t want anything to do with the vine.

The metaphor does mention fruit. Like the parables about the fig tree (Luke 13:6-9; Matthew 24:32ff) and the parable of the sower (Matthew 13:3-9), the longed-for result of being fed and nurtured is some fruitful result. The fruit, you could say, shows that the nutrient bearing sap got through, that the photosynthesis was effective, that what the vine exists for actually worked. That is what James was writing about, as we also just heard (James 2:14-17). Having faith without that being able to be seen would be like being a decorative vine, just there to look pretty, but without flowers, without fruit, perhaps even without any leaves. Not really very pretty! Bearing fruit, flowers, leaves, is what the branches are there for, and so they reveal that it is actually functioning. ‘Works’ is the way James describes those things. It is when what has flowed into and is held within the plant is revealed.

Personally, I recognise that decorative vines may have some limited place, but the vines which produce fruit, produce grapes, especially those which then get turned into w**e … that takes me back to the first list of those things which shape me! A plant without fruit may still be a plant with potential though. We don’t push metaphors too hard or they burst, but the image as Jesus placed it there for us does remind us that we are fed, and fruit will be a blessing.

Fruit in us is not only in what we do but also in who we are, though they are deeply interconnected. The passage from Micah, which is as well known as it is confronting still, is a call from God for us all, throughout the ages, to ‘act justly, love mercy, walk humbly’ (Micah 6:6-8). Who we are, who we grow to be, flows into what we think and speak and do. It flows into our words and actions, our commitments and connections. The sap which encourages us to live in love, to work together for justice, to be merciful, to embrace humility, seeps into us. We become what we eat. We become what we allow and invite to feed us. We think and are shaped by what and who we listen to and honour and support. Those are all choices, and the invitation here, and throughout the good news, is to be fed by the one who has and will give us life.

That is what we see in the lives of people who we remember as the saints of the Church, the holy ones, the ones through whom the love and presence and delight and giving of God are seen. Like Mary Sumner, caring for young women in particular who were isolated and ground down into obscurity and drudgery by their workplaces and circumstances. From its very beginning the Mothers’ Union was a radical organisation promoting justice and mercy, acting to raise up the vulnerable and downtrodden. That is how it began, and how it operates still in many places. I have seen the Mothers’ Union in Africa still engaged in the same work, bearing that same fruit, showing by their works the faith which sustains and inspires them. Actually, it has often been said that the Mothers’ Union is the heart of the Anglican Church in Africa. Through MU faith is shown in grounded, committed, self-giving, practical ways. Like James described. Like Jesus called for. Like Micah declared.

From the beginning of our lives, from the moment we began to be, we have been loved, nurtured, blessed, as Psalm 139 so beautifully declares. We are blessed. We are nurtured and fed. Everything begins with love being poured into our lives, sap seeping into our branches. We are blessed.

What will we do with that blessing? That is the question and invitation which comes from focussing on stewardship, as we will do over the next few weeks. Remember, though, that everything that will be placed before us here begins with blessing, of us, by God, and the invitation not only to remain connected but to let what shapes who we are flow through, be seen, be revealed in fruit, in works, in signs of love.

Amen.

Paul Mitchell.

Pentecost 8. 19 July 2026. Patience. Matthew 13: w**ds and wheat. This year Playschool celebrates 60 years, and one of t...
19/07/2026

Pentecost 8. 19 July 2026. Patience. Matthew 13: w**ds and wheat.

This year Playschool celebrates 60 years, and one of the pieces they included was Bill and Ben – originally from the UK. Who remembers them saying “Hello little w**d!” Which of you is a w**d, and which of you is wheat? How do you tell, in the Church and in the world? Jesus told a difficult parable (Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43), which I just read. There are and have been across the past 2000 years many very different interpretations of its meaning.

What is the key part of this story? Is it that those who are evil will get punished? Is it that everything bad in the Church and the world is the work of the devil/Satan/an opponent of God? Is it that every person is what they will always be – good or evil, and in the end that will be revealed? Is it that the heart of the gospel is judgement and punishment?

All of those interpretations miss the point, and are projections into the story. They are all projections which have been made though, and this story has been used to justify exclusion or ex*****on of people deemed heretics in certain times by parts of the Church. It has been used to oppose, vigorously, anything around in the world which did not fit into a particular perspective on who God calls us to be.

I take as my guides Snodgrass and McGowan. That sounds like a fancy name for a firm of lawyers! ‘Snodgrass and McGowan, attorneys at law’. Actually, they are both theologians, writing separately, both bringing substantial study and scholarship to interpret the Bible. Klyne Snodgrass served as a professor of Biblical literature in the USA for over 40 years. Andrew McGowan is a scholar of early Christianity, an Australian Anglican priest who recently completed 12 years as Dean of Yale Divinity School. Both recognise that this is an extremely difficult parable to interpret, that it has been used in many odd ways across the years since it was first recorded, and that most uses miss the point.

How can you tell w**ds from what is supposed to be growing, in fields or in your garden? Sometimes that might be obvious. In my gardens it often seems that it is the w**ds that seem to shoot up and even look a lot healthier! In this parable there is a particular word used for the w**ds. Some versions will translate that as ‘tares’, ‘darnel’, or ‘rye-grass’. The word is originally Persian: ‘zizania’ (Lolium tementulum). It means ‘false wheat’. The point is that for much of the growth cycle it looks almost identical to wheat, just a small difference in the width of the leaves on the plant.

So, in this story the ‘good’ wheat is sown. That doesn’t mean that it is pure without any w**ds. It means that it doesn’t have a lot of w**ds, usually. Some w**ds were unavoidable. Then, as the crop begins to grow, there appear what seem to be irregularities, suggesting a large number of w**ds, and the blame game starts, with the call for purity, culling out anything, anyone, which shows difference or potential corruption. In the ancient world the actual w**ds, actual zizania, did ruin the flour if everything was just harvested together, but that is part of the implication of the explanation which may not have been originally in Jesus’ version of this story.

An important point is that at the time when the questions are being asked it was really hard to tell the wheat from the w**ds. There is an important parallel here with the story in Matthew 25 of separating sheep from goats. What seems simple and comfortable for people who like black and white situations is clouded by the recognition that at that time in that part of the world telling sheep from goats was actually really difficult. They often looked the same!

So, here, we have a story where some of those who think they are serving the master (the word used is ‘kyrios’, which can also be translated as ‘Lord’) think they will do the right thing and get rid of any w**ds in the crop. Both Snodgrass and McGowan give the important reminder that this is presented as a parable about a crop being sown ‘in the world’. It is about what is happening around us, what we observe, how we respond. It is not an inward-looking story about finding purity in the Church, culling out anything and anyone who threatens to rock the boat – though it has been used in that way!!

Remember, as I was saying last week, this was a story shared (in Matthew’s version) when Jesus is sitting in a boat, on the lake, talking to people standing on the shore. Just like the parable of the sower immediately before this is not a lesson in agriculture. Imagination is required. Stepping back from the literal words to tease out the meaning is essential. Parables needed interpretation. In the second half of the story as we heard it, Jesus has come in to the shore, exited the boat, gone back into the house with his closest followers, and gives an explanation which probably comes mostly from the tensions which were erupting when Matthew’s gospel was written. Even some features of the story itself may come from that context, because this is Matthew’s expanded version of a story from Mark (4:26-29).

The key of the story is in verse 29 when the ‘master’ says ‘no’. The character in the story says wait, have patience. Taken together with what any farmers in the audience would have known, that wheat and zizania are difficult to tell apart, was the message that jumping quickly to judgement and rejection of what seemed to be suspect would be a mistake.

A few weeks ago I spoke about when the book Honest to God was first released in 1963, and Michael Ramsey, Archbishop of Canterbury at the time, jumped in quickly and said it was an awful, dangerous book. Then he realised that it actually said some important things. When Galileo Galilei, Johannes Kepler, Tycho Brache, and others, showed that the earth rotated around the sun – and not the popularly believed opposite – they were vilified by most of the Church officially. Now we know they were correct. When Charles Darwin, from his deep and wide observation of the natural world, suggested a pattern of change and development which is now called the theory of evolution the reaction in many parts of the Church was horrified rejection. That theory continues to be modified as more data is available but it provides a useful explanation of life on this planet.

I have been reading recently some of the works of Max Warren, Secretary for many years of the Church Missionary Society. One of the things which he observed was a significant change which came about in the 1960s as the western world and the western Church observed changes in what was called the ‘developing world’. There was a lot of judgement, criticism, condescension, prejudice and negativity from the west. Warren called for people to look again, to recognise the wonder and joy, the vitality and strength in what was developing through the growing pains of change. In particular, he encouraged people in the west to be attentive to the signs of the presence of God, especially in the things which they found difficult to accept.

Knowing that humanity has a tendency to want to lock information and people into contrasting categories of inclusion and exclusion, black and white, good and evil, this parable is unsettling in creative ways. The picture painted is a parody. At the end of this parable, as is said at the end of so many, is the encouragement to listen. That certainly does not mean ‘take this on face value’. It means stop and think. The master’s encouragement to wait, to have patience, to see that presumptions can be wrong is a disruptive counter to over-simplified quick reactions.

Parables, especially those which are unsettling, need to be put in the wider context of the message of the good news as well. In that wider message what does Jesus suggest about human beings, who we are and who we can be? At the beginning I noted that some interpretations suggest that some people are wheat and always pure and others are w**ds and will never be anything else. But if that was what is being suggested here then it would be directly contradicting the whole message of the good news. Transformation is possible. Whoever we are and whatever our life has been, and whatever fungus may have grown on us – for that was what the zizania carried which spoiled the flour – we need not always be the worst of who we have been. Transformation is possible. Being valued, productive, life-giving wheat is possible. Some already seem to be that as they are growing. Others will grow into that. Wait, have patience.

The point of leaving all the growing plants, the germinated seed, in the field was that they were not ignored. All still got watered. All still got fertilised. All still got cared for. Attention is still needed to what sort of seed we are and are becoming, attention to the life we are living and the need for transformation. Weeds becoming wheat is not in the parable, but it is in the rest of the good news. And in the end the clarity about who has grown into a life-giving being is not up to us. In the story it was up to the angels, the messengers, the representatives of God. Six chapters earlier in Matthew we hear Jesus encouraging people not to judge others, to take logs out of their own eyes before attempting to help someone else be released from a speck (Matthew 7:1,3). Interpretation comes from reading broadly.

Like any parable, and any story or pronouncement, this piece of the Bible doesn’t answer or solve or address everything. But it does say some important things. This odd, difficult, challenging parable is an encouragement to wait, to have patience, to hold off on judgement – of ourselves as much as of others. It is an encouragement to look for growth, transformation, to be prepared to be surprised and to find that what we may have been prepared to reject was fine after all. And the final analysis belongs to God, not to us. Let anyone with ears listen.

Amen.

Paul Mitchell.

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