8 Pentecost (Proper 11A) 2026

The Rev. Dr. Kenneth H. Saunders III
Greeneville, TN

The 8th Sunday after Pentecost
July 19, 2026

Isaiah 44:6-8
Psalm 86:11-17
Romans 8:12-25
Matthew 13:24-30,36-43

Just a few seconds ago, we heard the story of Jesus putting yet another parable before the gathering crowds. The parable is commonly known to us as the parable of the weeds and the wheat. But there is something about this parable that rubs us the wrong way.

If we are honest with ourselves, I think most of us would sympathize with the farmhands. They see the weeds growing up among the wheat and immediately ask, “Do you want us to go pull them up?” It seems like the obvious solution. Get rid of the problem... Clean up the field... Protect the crop. Oh, if life were only that simple.

The truth is, we often wish God would work that way. We look at the headlines and wonder why evil seems to flourish. We see war continuing across the globe, political divisions causing violence, and families beginning to fracture. Violence, sexism, and racial bigotry seem to be becoming commonplace.

So much so that one of our local murals, painted by students in honor of the remarkable women who helped shape Greene County, was defaced with sexist and racial hate speech. What was meant to be a celebration of these remarkable women has now been marked by hate and ugliness. As a people, we need to do better. As a community, we need to do better.

Our neighbors are increasingly becoming suspicious of one another. We watch people exploit the vulnerable, spread lies, and seek power at the expense of others. That is where we find ourselves asking the same question the servants asked, “Lord, shouldn’t we do something?” Or perhaps more honestly, “Lord, why don’t YOU do something?”

Jesus tells this parable because I think he knows that question lives deep within every human heart. At first glance, the landowner’s response sounds irresponsible. “No,” he says. “Let them both grow together until the harvest.” Now, to me, that sounds like terrible farming advice. Those of you who garden know better than that. Weeds steal water. They rob nutrients. They choke out healthy plants. If you ignore them long enough, they will take over everything. But Jesus is not giving a lesson in agriculture here.

The weed Jesus describes in the parable is what we know as darnel. It looks almost identical to wheat in its early stages. You really cannot tell one from the other until they begin to mature. Even more, their roots become intertwined. So pulling one out too early risks tearing up the wheat along with it.

The servants think they know which plants belong and which do not. But the landowner knows better. That should make us stop for a minute and think. Because again, if we are honest with ourselves, we think we have become confident in identifying the weeds.

We know who the weeds are... It’s all of “those people.” The people who think differently than us, the people who vote differently, the people who have hurt us, the people who have disappointed us. It’s “those people” whose sins are easier to recognize than our own. We are usually pretty certain about who belongs in the field and who does not.

So Jesus cautions us against that kind of certainty. Not because evil isn’t real. Because it is. The parable never pretends otherwise. The landowner does not deny that an enemy (the evil one) has been at work. And he does not suggest that the weeds are actually wheat if we just look at them differently. Evil exists. Sin wounds us. Injustice destroys lives. The Holy Scriptures never ask us to ignore that reality. The question is not whether evil exists. The question is, how do we, as disciples of Jesus, respond to it?

When Paul writes to the Romans, he does not pretend that the world is fine. In fact, he says that “the whole creation has been groaning in labor pains until now.” That is a powerful image. We know what that groaning sounds like. It’s the groan of parents worrying about their children, the groan of communities recovering from floods and storms, the groan of nations weary of war. It’s the groan of those living with illness, grief, loneliness, or uncertainty. Paul doesn’t deny any of it.

But notice what kind of groaning it is. It is not the groaning of death and destruction. It is the groaning of childbirth. Creation is not simply falling apart. God is bringing forth something new. Our first instinct is almost always elimination. To make it go away… To take it out, cut it out, and get rid of it. But God’s first instinct is redemption. And that difference changes everything.

One of the early church fathers, St. Augustine, pointed out that real wheat never becomes weeds, and weeds never become real wheat. But people are different. This is why God is patient. God sees not only who we are. But God sees, by grace, who we may become. 

Paul reminds us that we have not received a spirit of slavery leading us back into fear. We have received the Spirit of adoption. And reminds us that we are children of God. We need to remember that children are still growing. They are not finished. And neither are we.

That same Spirit that cries, “Abba, Father,” within us is still shaping us into the likeness of Christ. Someone who appears to be wheat today may choose another path tomorrow. Someone who seems hopelessly lost today may become a righteous saint tomorrow. 

Think about the people Jesus gathered around himself... a tax collector, a political zealot, fishermen with hot heads and quick tempers, a man who would not believe anything until he had his own assurance, and a man who denied him three times. If we had been choosing the disciples for Jesus, we might have pulled up half the field before Pentecost ever arrived.

God saw something we could not. That is why judgment belongs to God and God alone, and not to us. Because only God sees the whole story. Only God knows what divine grace may accomplish.

That does not mean justice doesn’t matter. Sometimes folks hear this parable and think Jesus is saying evil does not matter, or that Christians should simply tolerate abuse and injustice. That is not what he is saying. Notice in the parable that the weeds are eventually separated. Justice comes. God doesn’t ignore evil. God simply refuses to let vengeance become our focus and our purpose. That distinction matters.

There is another little detail hidden in this parable that deepens its meaning… at least it did for me… The Greek word, ἀφίημι (aphiēmi), is translated in this parable as “let” meaning “let it be” when the landowner says… “let both of them grow together.” But this word ἀφίημι also carries the sense of “forgive” or “remit.” It is the same word we hear in the Lord’s Prayer when we say “Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.”

Perhaps Jesus is inviting us to hear these words differently. “Forgive them both until the harvest.” Not excuse... Not approve... Not pretend evil is not evil... But refuse to let hatred have the final word. That, of course, is exactly what Jesus does.

He does not simply tell parables about forgiveness. He lives them. When he is betrayed, he forgives. When he is mocked, he forgives. When nails are driven through his hands and feet, he prays, “Father, forgive them.” And after the resurrection, he doesn’t seek revenge against the disciples who abandoned him. He restores them. Peter, who denied him three times, is not cast aside. He is entrusted with the keys of the kingdom and told by Christ to feed his sheep. That is how God works. Patiently... persistently, and always seeking redemption before judgment. 

Perhaps the hardest part of this parable for us is realizing that the field is not just “the world out there.” It is also us. Paul says we wait for “the redemption of our bodies.” Even after baptism, even after receiving the Holy Spirit, we are still becoming the people who God created us to be.

That means discipleship is not about proving we are already wheat. It is about allowing the Holy Spirit to keep cultivating our lives. Every act of forgiveness... Every act of mercy... Every act of generosity... Every time we choose love instead of fear. The Holy Spirit continues producing the fruit of God’s kingdom within us.

If we are being truly honest with ourselves, we know both wheat and weeds often grow together within our own hearts. Love and resentment... Faith and fear... Generosity and selfishness... Hope and despair. But every day we are becoming something. Every day, the grace of God is at work, patiently cultivating what is good while calling us away from that which would destroy us. 

Thank God that God is more patient with us than we are with one another. And that patience is not weakness. It is mercy and grace. It is the mercy that allows each of us time to repent, to grow, to become more than we once were, to become better.

The good news of this parable is not simply that the weeds will one day be removed. The good news is that the harvest will be abundant. Despite everything the enemy has sown... Despite every act of violence... Despite every broken relationship... Despite every disappointment... God’s harvest will not fail. The kingdom of God will prevail. The last word does not belong to the evil one. The last word belongs to grace. The last word belongs to God.

Perhaps that is why Jesus ends the parable with the harvest instead of the weeds. Evil is real. Suffering is real. The groaning of creation is real. But none of those things gets the final word. Paul says, “In hope we were saved.” Christian hope is not wishful thinking. It is confidence that God is still at work, even when we cannot see the finished harvest.

We do not hope for what is already in front of us. We hope for what God has promised. That means we can live differently. It means we can forgive when the world demands revenge. We can sow mercy when others sow division. And we can choose reconciliation over resentment. We can resist the temptation to decide who belongs to God and who doesn’t.

Why? Because we know that the field belongs to God. The harvest belongs to God. And so does the future. One day, Paul says, creation itself will be set free from its bondage to decay. One day, every tear will be wiped away. One day, the groaning will give way to singing. And on that day, Jesus says, “The righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their Father.”

Until then, we keep trusting. We keep loving... We keep forgiving... We keep planting seeds of the kingdom. And we keep hoping — for God, who has begun this good work, to bring it to its promised completion.

Year A - Proper 11 - July 20, 2014

The Rev. Kenneth H. Saunders III
Trinity Episcopal Church
Towson, MD

Year A - Proper 11 - July 20, 2014

Lectionary Readings for Proper 11A

 

When I was a child, I liked the pretty little yellow flowers that were in our back yard. You know the ones I’m talking about… The ones that after they matured became fluffy white balls of seed that with one blow, would go off into the wind and the wind would carry it off. Of course, I was a child… and as a child I didn’t know this pretty little yellow flower… this plant (this dandelion, - otherwise known as an Irish daisy, a bitterwort, or strangely enough, a priest’s crown) was actually a weed… I didn’t know, until I went to the feed and seed store with my father to get some dandelion killer for our lawn… Weed killer so that it wouldn’t choke out our grass. Weed killer… because those pretty yellow flowers were undesirable… they were a nuisance when trying to grow lush green grass.

It’s easy for us to go along in life thinking we know the difference between weeds and wheat. Judging this or that to be a nuisance or worse yet…  this person and that person as undeserving, worthless, or in the way. We are quick and critical as a society to judge – deciding who is in and who is out, based on the color of skin, income bracket, or what school we did or didn’t attend. We think that we are the wheat, and if anything is different from us, then it must be the weeds.

Even in our jobs we come across weeds… We sometimes feel that our jobs are so infested with weeds, that we either hide within them or we let them distract us from our mission. I’m talking about the things that bog us down… e-mail, phone-calls, and those endless meetings… things that can make us look like we are working hard bringing about the kingdom of God, but really, what they really are is indicators of our own souls – torn between the good and evil, right and wrong, normal and not normal.

Jesus uses the parable of weeds and wheat to explain the coming of the kingdom of God, when God will be the final judge between the good and evil of this world, between the weeds and the wheat. He uses the parable to explain a time when there will be no more worry about evil, or death and destruction.

I believe that Jesus’ parable also applies to the church today… it’s an excellent parable for the church to hear, because in the church… in the one body, the church, there are both weeds and wheat. Yes, the gathered church is this crazy mixed bag of destructive weeds and productive wheat.

Destructive weeds that draw the church from the mission of bringing forth the kingdom of God. Damaging evil judging weeds that grow up right alongside the wheat… the faithful, believing, pious, and righteous, children of the living God.

The first kneejerk reaction is do what the servants of the field wanted to do… to do what my father wanted to do… to go pull the weeds, to get them out of there, because they are a nuisance when trying to grow good wheat… when you are trying to make good and faithful disciples, there’s nothing worse than having the evil one around messing up our plan, drawing us from the task that God has given us to do… But that’s not what Jesus says do… Jesus says that if the weeds are uprooted, then the good wheat will be disturbed also, and so we are not to be the judge… the owner of the field… Jesus… the son of Man is the only judge.

Because our propensity is to choose wrongly, maybe it’s more like we are both… both the weeds and the wheat existing together within ourselves, entangled and intertwined in our hearts, in our souls, and in our minds, the balance of evil and good making us both weeds and wheat.

But maybe we are just wheat - because we are all children of God, made in the image of the creator, adopted in our baptism as heirs of God, and joint heirs with Christ – inheritors of the Kingdom of God.

Paul gives us a wonderful definition of how we are members of God’s family when he says, “For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the spirit of adoption.  When we cry, ‘Abba! Father!’ it is that very Spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs, heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ – if in fact, we suffer with him so that we may also be glorified with him.”

So… what are we children of God to do in this crazy world of weeds and wheat? We are to do exactly what Jesus says and remain steadfast and faithful and let God be the judge. But that is admittedly so hard to do, especially if you think that you’re the wheat…

The symbolism found in Jacob’s dream in the passage from Genesis gives us a place to begin thinking about our tasks as children of God: “He dreamed that there was a ladder set up on the earth, and the top of it reached to heaven; and the angels of God were ascending and descending on it!” What a great dream!

Jacob realized what a powerful message there was in that dream and so he set up a pillar – an altar made from the rock that was his head-rest, and gave it the name, Bethel (which means house of God), setting that place aside as holy and sacred.

Jacob received a message from God in that dream – the promise of a family and descendants that would stretch far and wide, across the centuries and down through the generations. The promise of family was as important then as it is for us today.

All of us are offered a great message and reminder in the reading from Genesis this morning. The ladder! – that ladder connecting heaven and earth is there for us! and - as those angels that were going up and down on that ladder, joining humanity to heaven… so we…  we who say that we are followers of Jesus… we must be like those angels.

We must be those people who play a part in joining the world to heaven by the way we live our lives. Now that sounds like a lot of work…  But we are human, and living in a very human world full of weeds and wheat… And because we are human, we are guaranteed to have hard days – lots of them – more, it seems, for some than for others.

But, if we are serious about claiming to be Christian... claiming to be the children of God that we are, then we must be willing to accept the angelic role of helping connect heaven to earth. And that activity that sounds like it’s lots of work – is actually our ministry. It becomes our purpose and our passion. It becomes our reason of life.

Each one of us has been given some special talent, some gift of ability or personality or some resource that we can use to help others travel up and down that figurative ladder between heaven and earth. Each and every one of us is called to be a messenger…  an angelic messenger of God’s love to others. And our command from Jesus himself is to love ALL… Jesus says in the lesson this morning that we are not to worry about what’s weeds and what’s wheat, but we should let God sort it out.

If we love ALL then we just might break the mold, and we give that person that we initially think is a weed a chance to become wheat.

As a child, not knowing what I was doing, I blew on the dandelion and made the seeds go everywhere… It is with that innocence that we approach love, love of the weeds of this world not knowing the difference between the weeds and the wheat… knowing and trusting that it’s God that plants the “good seeds,” and they grow up, and become healthy and vibrant grains of the finest wheat.

RCL Year A (Proper 11) - July 20, 2008

The Rev'd Kenneth H. Saunders III
Christ Episocpal Church
Cleveland, NC
RCL Year A (Proper 11) - July 20, 2008

Genesis 28:10-19a
Psalm 139: 1-11, 22-23
Romans 8:12-25
Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43

There is a man from Asheville that wrote me an e-mail this week…
He is doing some Genealogy research that has led him to Christ Church. Some of his relatives are buried here. That made me start to think…

Who are you? Who are your people? Who are your kin?
These are questions that all of us are asked in many different ways every day.
Culturally, here in the South, “Who are your people?” (or better yet… who’s yo mamma?) is an essential question – and usually the first question that a new person in town, or a new boy or girlfriend gets asked.

Think about it. We ask this type of question in so many different ways, to just about everyone we meet… It’s become sort of a habit. We assume the person we’re talking to has a family, or a place to belong to talk about… and we are often so taken aback or don’t know how to respond if a person says, “I don’t know, I was brought up in a foster home,” or “My family doesn’t care about me anymore, I just got out of drug rehab.”

If we are a caring people, we feel for people who find themselves adrift and alone for whatever reason, because that sense of belonging is so important to us as human beings. I am sure that some of you remember the old song, “People, people who need people, are the luckiest people in the world.” But if we’re being honest with ourselves, hasn’t each one of us at one time in our lives, felt completely alone, unneeded – and even cut off from family and friends?

What happens to us when all we see or feel is darkness? What happens to our sense of self, if we feel that - the darkness is our own fault? What happens when it is our own fault – caused by a bad decision, sin, or our own deliberate selfishness? and we feel that there is no one there to reach out to. Have you ever felt that way? It’s really hard. What do we do? Some despair, others stay wrapped in their anger and become bitter, others hang in there with hope. But how do we choose?

Lots of questions… These questions may be overwhelming or they may be questions we’ve never really thought about, but the mere asking makes us think about some of our more difficult days. Regardless of how overwhelming or difficult they my be… Are they really unanswerable questions?

Not at all, because all of our readings today give us a reason to hope. All of our readings today give us ways to have relationships with others, even when we’re not kin.

Being part of a family is what each of our readings today is all about: God’s family.

Paul gives a wonderful definition of how we belong to God’s family: “For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the spirit of adoption. When we cry, ‘Abba! Father!’ it is that very Spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs, heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ – if in fact, we suffer with him so that we may also be glorified with him.”

There we have it! None of us ever needs to fear being completely alone ever again even if we don’t have an earthly family. We all are part of God’s family. We can cry “Abba!” We can be absolutely sure that, as the spirit of God is within every single one of us, we are brothers and sisters of Christ and heirs of God’s glory.

Paul also reminds us that this family connection doesn’t break down when we suffer. Christ suffered – we suffer, but we are not left alone as he was not left alone.

But then we wonder about the suffering, don’t we??? More questions…

When people get sick… or we see that people’s suffering is not of their own doing, we often hear other folks say things said like, “God never gives you more than you can handle” or “This suffering will make you a stronger person.”

But think about how some folks react to suffering, they think is brought on by a person’s bad choices in life. A homeless person asks for some change, a single mother with children getting welfare, a young man who’s just gotten out of jail and can’t find a job – that’s their problem, isn’t it?

We often hear some folks say, “It’s their own fault,” or “They’re lazy,” or “My hard-earned taxes have been supporting that bum in jail, he doesn’t deserve a break.”

If we’re honest about it, it’s hard to imagine a loving God living in us, calling us children, and yet deliberately giving us something to suffer in order to test us or make us stronger. and If we’re really honest about it, the homeless and poor and those who have made bad choices are still children of God, and our brothers and sisters, and as such, we must be willing to love them and reach out as we’re able.

What Paul shares with us is that God is with every one of us through whatever happens in our human lives, whether we acknowledge God’s presence or not.

Thomas Keating, in his teachings on Centering Prayer says that God is present no matter what, and waits for us to say yes to that presence. God is a very patient and loving God.

Now we might be thinking that this all sounds too easy, that we don’t have to worry about anything but knowing God’s spirit is within us and we’re all set. But of course, we know better.

The wonderful symbolism found in Jacob’s dream in Genesis gives us a place to start thinking about our own responsibilities as children of God: “He dreamed that there was a ladder set up on the earth, and the top of it reached to heaven; and behold, the angels of God were ascending and descending on it!”

What a wonderful dream! Jacob realized what a powerful message there was in that dream and so he set up a pillar – set up an altar – and gave it a name, Bethel, setting that place aside as holy and sacred.
Jacob received his own message from God in that dream - the promise of a family that would reach far and wide, even down through the generations. The promise of family was as important then as it is for us today.

All of us are offered a message in this reading this morning.

That ladder – the one connecting heaven and earth is there for us!

and - as those angels that were going up and down, connecting humanity to heaven, so we who say we are Jesus’ followers, must be like those angels. We must be people who play a part in connecting the world with heaven by the way we live our lives.

Now that sounds like work, and of course it is! Being human, and living in a very human world will have its hard days – lots of them – more, it seems, for some than for others. But, if we are serious about claiming to be Christian, then we must be willing to accept this angelic role.

What that means for us - is that which sounds like work - is actually our ministry. Each one of us has been given some special talent, some gift of personality or ability or resource that we can use to help others travel up and down that figurative ladder between heaven and earth.

Each and every one of us is called to be a messenger of God’s love to others.

That could show itself in many ways… it could be something like speaking to a homeless person, or treating a person like the loved child of God he or she is. For some, it’s doing missionary work. For others, it may be sharing a talent or resource, or offering hope to someone with problems. There are certainly millions of ways - and each way pleasing to God who dwells within us.

Hard work or easy, whatever our gift, whatever our own suffering may be, we can be sure we’re never alone. God’s promise to us comes to us all through the scripture - both the Old and New Testament, but the way it’s described in Jacob’s dream is one that we can hold onto: “Behold, I am with you and will keep you wherever you go, and will bring you back to this land; for I will not leave you until I have done that of which I have spoken to you.”

We might look at that land God promises us as eternal life… Here God promises to be with us and keep us. God promises to stay with us until we are united with God in eternity. That’s a promise and a source of strength for us that’s as awesome as Jacob’s experience of God was for him.

We are all very fortunate because when someone asks us about our family, we can all say, “My family is all God’s people and we have God’s promise that we will never be alone.”

Some of the images and rhetoric in this sermon was taken from a sermon delivered by the Rev. Dr. Suzanna Metz, Director of Contextual Education; The University of the South – School of Theology.