Jesus sketched the
situation of the Church in the world with three
parables. The grain of mustard seed that becomes a
tree indicates the growth of the Kingdom of God on
earth. Also the parable of leaven in the dough
signifies the growth of the Kingdom, not so much in
extension as in intensity. It indicates the
transforming force of the Gospel that raises the
dough and prepares it to become bread.
These two parables were easily understood by the
disciples, but not so the third, the seeds and the
weeds, which Jesus explained to them separately. The
sower, he said, was himself, the good seeds were the
children of the Kingdom, the bad seeds were the
children of the evil one, the field was the world
and the harvest was the end of the world.
In antiquity, Jesus' parable was the object of a
memorable dispute that it is very important to keep
in mind also today. There were sectarian spirits,
the Donatists, who resolved the matter in a
simplistic way: On one hand was the Church (their
church) made up wholly and solely of the perfect; on
the other was the world full of children of the evil
one, without hope of salvation.
St. Augustine opposed them: The field, he explained,
is, indeed, the world, but it is also the Church,
the place in which saints and sinners live
side-by-side, and in which there is room to grow and
to be converted. "The evildoers," he said, "exist in
this way either so that they will be converted, or
because through them the good exercise patience."
Hence the scandals that every now and then shake the
Church should sadden, but not surprise us. The
Church is made up of human persons, not wholly and
solely of saints. There are weeds also in every one
of us, not only in the world and in the Church, and
this should render us less ready to point the
finger.
To Luther, who rebuked Erasmus of Rotterdam for
staying in the Catholic Church notwithstanding her
corruption, the latter responded: "I support this
Church in the hope that she will become better,
because she is also constrained to bear with me in
the hope that I will become better."
Perhaps the main subject of the parable, however, is
neither the seeds nor the weeds, but God's patience.
The liturgy underlines it with the selection of the
first reading, which is a hymn to God's strength
that is manifested under the form of patience and
indulgence. God's patience is not simply patience,
namely, awaiting the Day of Judgment so as to punish
more severely. It is forbearance, mercy, the will to
save.
The parable of the seeds and the weeds lends itself
to a wider reflection. One of the principal motives
of embarrassment for believers and of rejection of
God by nonbelievers has always been the "disorder"
that exists in the world. Ecclesiastes, which in so
many instances makes itself the spokesman of
doubters and skeptics, noted, "There is the same lot
for all, for the just and the wicked" (9:2). And,
"Under the sun in the judgment place I saw
wickedness, and in the seat of justice, iniquity"
(3:16).
At all times, iniquity has been seen as triumphant
and innocence as humiliated. "However," noted the
great orator Bossuet, "so that the world is not
believed to be something fixed and secure, note that
sometimes the contrary is seen, namely, innocence on
the throne and iniquity on the scaffold. "
The response to this scandal was already found by
the author of Ecclesiastes: "And I said to myself,
both the just and the wicked God will judge, since
there is a time for every affair and on every work a
judgment" (3:17). It is what Jesus calls in the
parable "the time of harvest." In other words, it is
a question of finding the precise point of
observation in face of the reality, of seeing things
in the light of eternity.
It is what happens with certain modern paintings
that, seen up close, seem a medley of colors without
order or meaning, but seen from the correct distance
they reveal a precise and powerful design.
It is not a question of remaining passive and in
expectation in face of evil and injustice, but of
struggling with all licit means to promote justice
and repress injustice and violence. To this effort,
which involves men of good will, faith adds
assistance and support of inestimable value -- the
certainty that the final victory will not be that of
injustice and arrogance, but of innocence.
Modern man finds it difficult to accept the idea of
God's Last Judgment on the world and history, but in
this he contradicts himself because it is he himself
who rebels against the idea that injustice has the
last word.
In so many millennia of life on earth, man has
become accustomed to everything: He has adapted
himself to all climates, and immunized himself
against so many sicknesses. However, he has never
become accustomed to one thing: injustice. He
continues to see it as intolerable. And it is to
this thirst for justice that the judgment will
respond. This will not be willed only by God, but by
all men and, paradoxically, even by the ungodly.
"In the day of the universal judgment," says the
poet Paul Claudel, "it is not only the Judge who
will descend from heaven, but the whole earth will
precipitate the encounter."
How much human affairs change when seen from this
angle, even those that are happening in the world
today! Let us take the phenomenon, which so
humiliates and saddens us Italians, of organized
crime. Recently, Roberto Saviano's book "Gomorrah,"
and later the film made about it, documented the
degree of odiousness and contempt of others gathered
around the heads of these organizations, but also
the sense of impotence and almost of resignation of
society in face of the phenomenon.
We saw in the past people of the mafia accused of
horrible crimes, defend themselves with a smile on
their lips, defeating the judges and courts, gaining
strength by the lack of evidence. As if, pretending
to be candid before the human judges, they resolved
everything. If I could address them I would say:
Don't delude yourselves, poor unfortunate ones; you
haven't accomplished a thing! The real judgment must
still begin. You may end your days in liberty,
honored, and finally with a splendid religious
funeral, after having left hefty donations for
charitable works, but you will not have accomplished
anything. The true Judge awaits you behind the door,
and you can't cheat him. God does not allow himself
to be bribed.
Hence, what Jesus says at the end of his explanation
of the parable of the weeds should be a reason for
consolation for the victims, and of healthy dread
for the violent. "Just as the weeds are gathered and
burned with the fire, so will it be at the close of
the age. The Son of man will send his angels, and
they will gather out of his Kingdom all causes of
sin and all evildoers, and throw them into the
furnace of fire; there men will weep and gnash their
teeth. Then the righteous will shine like the sun in
the Kingdom of their Father."
