The Ecosystem of Heaven

Matthew 13:24-30

²⁴ Yeshua put before them another parable. “The Kingdom of Heaven is like a man who sowed good seed in his field; ²⁵ but while people were sleeping, his enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat, then went away. ²⁶ When the wheat sprouted and formed heads of grain, the weeds also appeared. ²⁷ The owner’s servants came to him and said, ‘Sir didn’t you sow good seed in your field? Where have the weeds come from?’ ²⁸ He answered, ‘An enemy has done this.’ The servants asked him, ‘Then do you want us to go and pull them up?’ ²⁹ But he said, ‘No, because if you pull up the weeds, you might uproot some of the wheat at the same time. ³⁰ Let them both grow together until the harvest; and at harvest-time I will tell the reapers to collect the weeds first and tie them in bundles to be burned, but to gather the wheat into my barn.’”

Ooh, I’m on a roll.

A couple of hairs to split: In this parable the Territory of Heaven is compared to the “man who sows” and not to the field which ends up with both wheat and weeds growing in it. Even though in tomorrow’s reading the text goes on to spell out that the sower is The Human (Son of Man) and the field is the world, that doesn’t really nullify my inferences. This delights me. I’m not sure how far to push the semantic distinctions I’m making; but since they are producing optional interpretations, I’m going to keep it up.

Here’s the biggie: Whenever the Domain of Heaven is described in the Bible, it’s always like an ecosystem— a template of relationships and interconnections. In this story, everybody has a role in the plot.  

I have come to understand that this Realm of Heaven isn’t a place at all—it’s a Way of relating.

All the stuff, all the characters, all the events, take place regardless of how we perceive them. It doesn’t matter whether the events are painful or pleasurable, or whether the people are enemies or servants, or whether it’s the wheat or the weeds which are entitled to grow in the field.

So, what Jesus is describing is how to relate.

Of course we have reasonable expectations about the outcome of our actions. That’s fine.

But hostility and spitefulness exist in the Province of Heaven also; and people have to sleep sometime. There just isn’t any way around it, we have to let the weeds and the wheat grow alongside each other. When it’s time to harvest, then everything is gathered in, and the weeds get separated out and burned.

[Just a note: I am astounded by the depth of metaphor within the word for “ripe” in Greek. It doesn’t just mean ‘ripe’ as in ‘matured’; it means ‘to be betrayed; handed over; yielded up; abandoned; entrusted.' Jesus is always talking about the relative ripeness of things; and it’s not too much of a stretch to translate Matthew 26:2 like this: 
“and the Son of Man will be entrusted to the execution stake.”]

The Sphere of Heaven can’t be limited to a linear progression, or a set of static relationships, because it’s about our choices— what we choose and how we go about choosing it.

Nothing is perfect, and life isn’t fair. If we need directions, we have them right here in this parable:

“Don’t try to fix it right this second, wait until the time is ripe and it will be much easier to figure out what’s worth keeping and what isn’t.”

Time isn’t linear either—

There will always be sowers planting good seeds in the fertile earth with confidence and hope.

There will always be fields with things in various stages of growth; some still seeds which haven’t sprouted yet; some gone to seed and all dried up ready to be burned.

There will always be enemies, slanderers, and liars doing malicious, vindictive and spiteful things to other people; especially to honest people who are trying to make good things grow.

There will always be messengers out there, the ones who know how to tell when things are ripe; when it’s time to abandon them and entrust them to the past. These are the angels who know that the abundance of harvest only happens because what has grown now has to die.

There’s no way to stop things and keep them in their places, because everything depends on everything else. There’s nothing to be done except to keep on doing what comes next.



I read somewhere that ‘grief is love with no place to go’. I think that’s only partly right.



We keep Love alive when we kill what’s ready for harvest.

We betray our griefs when we hand them over to happiness.

We abandon our hopes when we entrust them to death.

We yield up our wants when we commit them to kindness.

There’s no place to go but God’s Domain,

and Now’s the only time there’s ever been.