In everyone, the weeds of sin will be mixed with the good wheat of the gospel until the end of time. The Church gathers sinners already caught up in Christ’s salvation, but still on the way to holiness.
This is a quote from the Catechism of the Catholic Church. (paragraph 827)
The parable of the wheat and the tares ends with some drama: The bundled weeds burn; the sifted wheat fills the barn with the restful smell of harvest-time. And the parable injects drama into our gathering here. Right here, right now, some of us are good guys, and some of us are bad guys. [se haga click for spanish]
But we don’t wear jerseys to identify which team each of us is on. Because we are all on both teams. Good guys, raise your hands. Bad guys, raise your hands.
God made Adam and Eve good, and He set them up well. Even though they were made out of nothingness and susceptible to death and decay, God filled them with divine life and made them immortal. They never would have died; they never would have experienced any evil—if they had not sinned.
And they sinned before they conceived their children. Therefore, when they did have children, the children were born in the precarious state into which their parents had fallen. Human nature gets handed down in this precarious state. We all received human nature in this precarious state. In a nutshell, the precarious state is: We are born mortal and selfish.
Since we sin all the time, it is easy for us to lose sight of just how enormous the guilt of sin is. If you play in the NBA, and you mutter a bad word at a referee, you can be fined the cash equivalent of a brand-new Mercedes-Benz. For offending a basketball referee.
What, then, is the penalty for offending God? The infinitely good and powerful? The Almighty? Well, the penalty is: Infinity dollars. You offend the infinite, you owe an infinite debt. And we don’t have infinity dollars.
So God became man and offered a peace offering of infinite love on our behalf. On the cross, Christ the man offered His divine love to the Father. Behold: the fine is paid, by the love of the Son for the Father.
Having redeemed mankind as a man, God continues to move history forward by the birth of succeeding generations of men—born in the way we have always been born. But now we can be adopted into the household of God by the blood of Christ. Holy Baptism brings about this adoption.
God, being God, could receive us into heaven immediately upon our being baptized. But, usually, He graciously wills otherwise. He wills to make us partners in our own salvation; He leaves us on earth into adulthood, under the power of our own free will. He gives us time to do battle with the lingering effects of original sin. By doing so—by fighting the battle—we come into our own and grow into the people He made us to be.
So: as baptized Christians, we are children of God. As children of Adam, we are craven sinners. We know we have been consecrated to become saints of Christ, but nonetheless we are moved by strong desires to do things like plop down in front of the t.v. for hours scarfing down an entire bag of Doritos.
The struggle against the residual effects of original sin sounds difficult, and indeed it is. But getting a grip on the situation is half the battle. When we know what the battle is, we can fight it.
The Lord in His parable reserved to Himself the right to judge the souls of men on the last day. It is not my business to condemn my own soul or anyone else’s. As long as we still have two feet above ground, harvest time has not yet arrived for us.
What I must do is weed out of my own interior garden while I still can. And that is precisely what we are here to do. We are here in church to praise God for the good in us. And to work to remove the bad. We all know that our own individual souls are gardens where good plants and evil weeds both grow.
And another important lesson of the parable is this: when we reach down into our souls to pull out a weed, we don’t have to worry that we might pull out too much earth and ruin the seed-bed. Inside us, the good lies deeper than the bad. The weeds might seem like they go all the way down to the bedrock. But, in fact, they do not. The bedrock of a human soul is God.
First and foremost, I am a beloved child of God; He made me good, and He died on Calvary to save me from condemnation. He poured out His Precious Blood to pay the price for all my sins. I need not be afraid, then, to confront them. I can acknowledge that this particular beloved child of God is also a weak and depraved son of Adam—a sinner who relies on divine mercy.
Where sin abounds—and it abounds in me—grace abounds all the more.