Fr Marco Lazzaron
n the Gospel of today, Matthew continues to present Jesus’ great discourse in parables. Jesus loves to speak to people about God using the language of the fields and of everyday life.
To the optimism of sowing on every kind of soil, the sower adds the simplicity of someone who, after sowing the field, peacefully goes to rest. But the night is never only a time for sleep; it is also the time of deception, cunning, and the manifestation of evil and injustice. The enemy takes advantage of the sower’s rest to violate his property and sow what can ruin the harvest, with the intention of destroying his work. In spring, this darnel is indistinguishable from the good grain and harms it. Only when harvest time arrives can it be recognized, because it is shorter and bears no ears of grain.
This reminds us that when evil is sown, it mingles with the good and appears attractive and desirable. Yet, over time, it can no longer remain hidden and eventually comes to light. When the weeds appear, the servants are astonished to find them in the field and ask the master for an explanation. The master knows well that the author of this destructive act is the enemy.
While the servants propose pulling up the weeds immediately, the master instead urges them to wait until the harvest. He explains that only when the plants have fully grown is it possible to uproot the weeds without also pulling up the good wheat. At that time, the harvesters will gather the weeds and burn them, while storing only the wheat in the barn.
In this way, Jesus teaches that, while human beings are always ready to take justice into their own hands, the true disciple learns from God’s infinite patience the art of waiting for the conversion of sinners. Furthermore, in the interpretation he gives at the request of his disciples, the Master shows that judgment belongs not to human beings but to God. He casts an entirely eschatological light on the parable, inviting us to imagine the end as a separation between the good wheat (“the children of the kingdom”, those who have lived as God’s sons and daughters, with hearts open to listening to and understanding the Word of God) and the weeds (“the children of the evil one”, those who have closed their hearts to the Word).
Jesus, therefore, invites us not to judge people, the world, or history harshly. Instead, he helps us understand God’s action not as something noisy or spectacular, but as an underground dynamic, a process of slow and silent growth that is nonetheless profoundly powerful and effective.
The Kingdom of Heaven is not something to be managed according to human standards, but a living dynamism that causes both personal and universal history to grow, leading it toward its full flowering. It is a life-giving power that renews history according to distinctly divine criteria: patience, smallness, and humility. Like love itself, the Kingdom does not make noise, does not seek recognition, “likes,” or “followers.” Rather, it loves the silence that gives rise to the most meaningful word and allows the most beautiful symphony to be heard.