As a fundraiser for the youth group, a pious member of the church planted some swee corn in a corner of a field. Around the same time, a different group of young people planted a patch of marijuana in the same field. They grew up together, and the young people were caught. When the police tested their product, all for research purposes, no THC was in the offending material, but it did sound like Jiffy Pop when lit. Apparently, a genetic transfer moved into the corn.
The corn ended up being part of a big barbeque supper for the church and the leftover corn was sold to individuals. Always hearty eaters, the members of the church outdid themselves that night. Whole pies disappeared; cakes were gobbled up, even the lesser cooks had people begging for more. The crabbiest woman in the church, the type that will give everyone the business but never a kind word, became the essence of sweetness.
The next day, the pastor cooked up some of the corn for the church board. For the first time ever, the board agreed with every one of the minister’s proposals for change. A man who lived to try to shoot down every idea seconded every motion. People who made sure that they always voted on opposite sides then volunteered to work together on a committee.
Defying tradition, the church had a pitch-in meal before the Sunday worship service. During the service, people stared at the stained glass lit by the sunlight. They laughed at little jokes. They filled the baskets with money for the poor. They took Communion as if it were their last meal. After it, people tearfully thanked the pastor for the most spiritually uplifting service they could ever remember.
Wheat and weed grow together, so Jesus almost said in am illustration of God’s way in the world, the kingdom of heaven on earth. In other words, God’s way in the world is in the everyday, but it exists all mixed together. At times, it seems that the weeds threaten to choke off the tender shoots of faith, but they persist and sometimes thrive in the midst of all the weeds.
We look for ecstatic religious experience. At times, we receive it, but then we keep a quest for that experience and lose sight of the point of honoring God. We want a rarity to become the familiar and predictable, so we substitute forced, ersatz energy. We often look for faith to move us out of ordinary life, but the Christian faith is incarnational faith, one rooted in the soil of real life. We carry so many problems between each other and within. Instead of momentary forgetting, the church, at its best, offers forgiveness. On NPR recently, a woman spoke of her new book about her strained relationship with her brother. They were able to reconcile only before his death. She cited research that most families have strained relationships with brothers and sisters that persist well into adulthood, if not throughout the life span. She said that the secret to better family relationships was letting go of the childhood roles and accepting one’s family members as themselves, without judging them according to our expectations or demands, to set aside out ego and to look and listen to each other. In other words, we learn to forgive for the sake of restoring our relationships. After all, God forgives us, wheat and weeds together.