A parable like we’ve heard today can be disturbing. It brings to mind all sorts of images we’d rather not think about, images of death and of suffering, of burning furnaces and of the wailing and grinding of teeth. And, if we’re not careful, such imagery can lead to Christianity being seen as a religion of fear and not of love.
But what’s interesting is the parable itself speaks more of grace than fear, of patience than rash action. The farmer’s men want to pull out the darnel, the weeds, before the harvest, but their master says ‘no’. In pulling out the weeds he’s concerned they may inadvertently pull out the wheat. Only at harvest time can we be sure to see the difference between the two. So he tells them to wait.
What’s also of interest for us is this parable is found only in Matthew’s gospel. Scholars suggest its inclusion tells us more about the community Matthew was addressing than Jesus’ original intent. The interpretation reflects the goings on in the church of the day. The early church was a motley bunch. And here we find some who wanted to purge from their midst those they considered evil.
Of course, this situation isn’t unique to first century Palestine. A tension has always existed within the church between a desire for purity and perfection, and the gospel imperative to accept and forgive and restore. Jesus welcomed the outcast and the sinner, and he demanded of his followers a costly ethical life. So, when you think about it, we’ve a lot to learn from this parable.
And the point Matthew makes is quite simple. Christ is our judge. Earlier on he’s says it’s not what we say that’s important, but whether or not we do the will of God (7.21). And later in this gospel, when Jesus tells of the final judgment, in the challenging parable of the sheep and the goats, he says what counts is our response to the very least; the hungry, the prisoner, the stranger, the naked. 
‘I tell you this:’ Jesus tells the disciples, and therefore us, ‘anything you did for one of my brothers [or sisters] here, however humble, you did for me.’ (25.40)
A couple of years ago the family and I went to Canterbury, England. It was one of those trips on our ‘must do’ list and was organised by the ‘Beyond the M 25’ club at Goodenough College. Speaking with my children the other day, they tell me what they remember most of the outing is the Rupert the Bear Museum and the Roman ruins viewable beneath the cobblestone streets; what sticks in my mind is the large Norman Cathedral, the Mother Church of the Anglican Communion. 
The history books tell us St Augustine was sent by Pope Gregory the Great to the British Isles as a missionary in 597AD, and there he established his seat (or cathedra) in Canterbury. Since then there’ve been another 103 Archbishops of Canterbury, including Thomas Beckett. Beckett was appointed Archbishop by King Henry II but changed his loyalty from the king to the Pope and the Church.
And not surprisingly, Beckett’s decision got him into all sorts of trouble. When four knights overheard the king say in a rage ‘who’ll rid me of this meddlesome priest?’ they travelled to Canterbury and murdered him as he knelt in prayer.
Canterbury’s colourful history has continued into the present. Ten years ago, the eight hundred plus bishops of the Anglican Communion gathered for the Lambeth Conference. It was a heated affair. On the agenda were all sorts of issues, the remitting of Third World debt and Christian mission at the interface with Islam, but it was dominated by internal turmoil over human sexuality.
This led to resolution 1.10, which stated, amongst other things, homosexual practice was incompatible with scripture, and the blessing of same sex unions and the ordination of those involved in same gender unions was inadvisable.
Of course, the resolution wasn’t supported by everyone. There were some strongly opposed. But it was accepted by a majority as the mind of the Church at the time. However, the resolution did little to calm the waters. In 2003, the Episcopal Church of America consecrated Gene Robinson, an openly gay man, as a bishop, and the Diocese of New Westminster, Canada, permitted priests to bless same sex unions, and the dark clouds of division drew all the closer. 
You may’ve heard media reports on these matters. The Anglican Communion has been trying to resolve the issues ever since. There’ve been talk of schism, a number of parishes and provinces have broken communion with those they consider in the wrong, and the Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams, has in the midst of all this done his best to keep the Communion together.
In an article I read the other day, a retired bishop recalled how in 1978 at a Lambeth Conference one American bishop was heard to say ‘What keeps the Anglican Communion together?’ ‘Wippells’ was the reply, the supplier of robes and vestments to bishops. At another meeting, this time of MPs and bishops in London, a similar question was asked. ‘What keeps the Church of England together?’ This time the response was ‘The Establishment’.
However true or lighthearted these comments, neither is that helpful. I prefer the response of Desmond Tutu, former Archbishop of Southern Africa. To the earlier question, his reply is simple: ‘We meet’. The Anglican Communion is the third largest Christian denomination. It’s made up of 80 million people from 160 countries. Each regional and national church is autonomous. And what links us are the ‘bonds of affection’; we choose to be in relationship with one another.
The problem this year has been some bishops have chosen not to meet. The 2008 Lambeth Conference began on Wednesday, but only three quarters of the bishops are present, including all the New Zealand bishops. The others have boycotted the gathering. They’ve said they cannot meet with those they believe are proclaiming a ‘false gospel’. Weeds have sprouted in the wheat field!
So, three or four weeks ago, these dissenting bishops gathered for their own conference in Jerusalem. They called it GAFCON, Global Anglican Future Conference. They defined themselves as ‘a fellowship of confessing Anglicans’ and stated they were ‘not breaking from the Anglican Communion’. Instead, they reaffirmed the doctrinal foundations of Anglicanism, and published ‘The Jerusalem Declaration’, a document stating the basis of their fellowship.

The absence of these bishops is a cause of ‘great grief’ for Rowan Williams, but the work of Lambeth goes on. The focus this year is on strengthening the sense of a shared Anglican identity among the bishops and helping to equip them for mission. Each day begins with the study of scripture. In small groups the bishops are reflecting on Jesus’ ‘I AM’ statements. And in the afternoons there are sessions on such topics as evangelism and social injustice, and the environment and other faiths. Only towards the end of the conference will the issue of human sexuality be discussed, but no resolutions will be made.
In spite of the media hype, I think all the bishops have a genuine desire to be faithful to Christ. Why else would they be in their position? But my hope is we, as a Church, can rise above our differences and look beyond ourselves. We need to keep talking about human sexuality, but let it not be the defining issue. ‘The real challenges’, says the Archbishop of Wales, ‘are not about sexuality but about eradicating poverty, injustice, violence and tackling climate change’.
In Paul’s letter to the Romans he writes ‘the whole created universe groans in all its parts as if in the pangs of childbirth’ (7.22). Here, he reminds us as part of God’s new creation, we’ve a work to do and a hope to proclaim. Jesus reached out to the least of God’s people. He didn’t judge, he didn’t try to pull out weeds, but walked beside those society rejected. He dined with sinners and he spoke of a God whose love can never be quenched. God’s love is without end.
So, may we look to Jesus to show us the way; may we welcome the stranger, feed the hungry, and live in such a way that we’re conscious of God’s presence in everything we say and do; and may we pray for our bishops, that they may find common ground and lead us in the mission of the church.
‘Show me your way O Lord’ the Psalmist says, ‘that I may walk in your truth’ (86.11). May this be our prayer today and every day! Amen.
 
A sermon preached at St Alban’s on Sunday 20 July 2008
(Isaiah 44:6-8; Romans 8:12-25; Matthew 13:24-30, 26-43)