The liturgy looks
as if it is lingering in this agrarian homestay. The shorter Gospel of the
wheat and the weed directs our attention to a matter which is relevant to us in
these days. If the word “Pharisees” means “separated ones”, then
these supposed moral, religious or political elite would have liked Jesus to be
more discerning in His choices. In allowing the weed to coexist with the wheat,
Jesus appears to send a modern message of tolerance and acceptance—an attitude resembling
ours which apparently has ample space for imperfections to flourish. Imagine if
Jesus were demanding. The short of it, we would not be Church—for the likes of
Peter and his bumbling cohort would not have survived the stringent selection
process for the ideal apostle or disciple. While Jesus may have displayed this
modern sensitivity to diversity and inclusivity, the truth is, He is more
dissimilar to us that He is similar with us. He is not ahistorical, and neither
is He amoral.
Firstly, we
pride ourselves that we embrace the tenets of tolerance yet what is clear is
that our inclusion is rather exclusive. At least the Pharisees were unabashedly
prejudiced. They make no pretence about their exclusivity. “I thank you
God that I am not grasping, unjust, adulterous, like the rest of mankind”.
(Lk 18: 11) We, on the other hand, who endorse political correctness would chafe
if someone were to call us bigoted, racist or judgemental. But we are exactly
who we do not like to be because we gather in group think, for one. We troll
and shout down those who do not think like us or hold different ideology from
us. However, what is more subtle is that our exclusion hides a mind-set which
is rather ahistorical as it is detached from history.
This view of
the present that is removed from the past or this ahistoricity reveals itself through
a kind of questioning which does not fully grasp the meaning that God is in
history. At face value, the question is pretty legitimate. We struggle to
reconcile the idea of a good God with the reality of evil and suffering. Hopefully,
the lesson from the co-existence of wheat and weed can help us clarify this
conflict that has confused modern man. Faced with a seeming irreconcilability between
God’s active will (which desires good for man) and permissive will (which
allows for evil to afflict us), there is a lot of frustration, disappointment,
and anger. Anger arises when we watch innocent people die from the evil actions
of people. More so these days when people suffer needlessly as in this
pandemic. We live in a world where evil seems to triumph all the time. Look at
how the corrupt seem to get away Scot-free. Faced with such evil, it is hard to
believe that there is still a good God who is in charge of history.
This line of
questioning shows that mankind suffers from a memory lapse. We have forgotten
than mankind is always fallen mankind in need of
redemption and salvation. Our amnesia tries to blot out or brush off Original
Sin from the tainted canvas of humanity. Look at the current craze sweeping
some countries, like trying to rename a football team, in this case, the
Redskin. We used to call them Red Indians, remember? Today, they are known as
Native Americans. While the Native Americans are not bothered by the name
Redskin, the political, cultural and corporate elites are. These politically-correct
thought-police enforce an ahistoricity that works itself out through a
rejection of our chequered past—a denial that history is stained by Original
Sin. On the one hand, we have a duty to right the wrongs that still exist. A
good example would be the inherent racism that is systemic. Thus, the reform of
authority (as in the practice of policing) is good so that the abuse of power might
be stamped out. But the blatant beheading of statues or the deliberate defacing
of monuments are examples of ahistoricty, that betray a forgetfulness that God
is still in charge and that history is salvific.
Historicity,
not the anachronistic destruction of history, is proof that God is in command.
The issue which we need to struggle with is possibly found in the expression
God’s permissive will. Why has God allowed something bad to happen? As long as
we are caught in time, we may never grasp fully the extent of God’s mysterious
ways.
A new movie
has come up on Netflix: The Old Guard. It stars Charlize Theron. Within
the storyline, there is a subtle canonisation of what is considered to be the
“new normal”. Watch it and see if you can spot what this “new normal” is. My attention
is not directed at this “new normal” but rather at this ancient “Immortal” and
her cohort—her name is Andy (Charlize) short for Andromache of Scythia (in Greek mythology, the wife of Hector). She has lived for as long as history is and is
somewhat discouraged by man’s record for self-destruction but the story goes
that whatever these Immortals may have done that did not feel like it was much,
somehow their deeds have a positive effect down the line. For example, a child
saved from ethnic extermination later becomes a famous scientist who in turn pioneers
a cure for a disease etc.
The short of
the story is that God’s permissive will is such that He can and does turn evil
into some good. But, when our worldview cancels out Original Sin, we are
somehow condemned to “purify” our history as the case may be in the USA, especially
with the iconoclasm taking place. More than that, when we “purify” our history,
the only criterion we can apply is “perfection”. Weeds disgust us to the point
that we must remove them to feel good about ourselves. So, when we look back
through the prism of perfection, we will not stop there. In fact, when we are
uncomfortable with our imperfect past, we will purge the present of any
vestiges of imperfection. Is it any wonder why we willingly abort babies who
are less than perfect and euthanise the elderly who have lost their utility?
To right the
wrongs of the past by erasing history not only obliterates the past but it is
ultimately a rage against a God who may be quiet but is actually hard at work throughout
history. The idea of waiting for the wheat and the weed to mature carries with
it a patience, a longing, but most of all, a trusting that God will reveal His
mysterious ways.
To state
that God’s ways are mysterious is not copping out. It is to trust in God. In
allowing for weed and wheat to co-exist, Jesus may appear modern in His
inclusivity. But He is dissimilar to us because He is not amoral the way we
are. He does not condemn the sinner but neither does He condone the sin. We on
the other hand condone the sin as long as it fits our political agenda. What
Jesus has done is to allow for conversion to unfold. Without the possibility of
conversion, we will deal with evil or the failure of imperfection the only way
we know how, that is, lock and throw away the key. Yet, history is brimming
with stories of conversion—St Peter is a prime example. So too many of our
saints whose pasts are less than pristine. Funny that in our “Original
Sinless” world, we are quick to condemn others but quicker still to excuse
ourselves as “human”. In excusing our humanity, we recognise that we are often
weed and wheat. Thus, the presence of our imperfect past is but a glaring proof
of God’s benevolence and on our part, a cry for conversion, a hunger for
liberating grace, a longing for God to save us. In His mercy, He has done exactly
that. He has saved us and continues to save us through Jesus Christ.
