Last week, we heard the parable of the seeds. This week, we are invited to consider the parable of the sower. For those of you who don’t have a bible handy, here’s what Jesus had to say:

The kingdom of heaven may be compared to someone who sowed good seed in his field; but while everybody was asleep, an enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat, and then went away. So when the plants came up and bore grain, then the weeds appeared as well. And the slaves of the householder came and said to him, ‘Master, did you not sow good seed in your field? Where, then, did these weeds come from?’ He answered, ‘An enemy has done this.’ The slaves said to him, ‘Then do you want us to go and gather them?’ But he replied, ‘No; for in gathering the weeds you would uproot the wheat along with them. Let both of them grow together until the harvest; and at harvest time I will tell the reapers, Collect the weeds first and bind them in bundles to be burned, but gather the wheat into my barn.’

These words from the 13th chapter of Matthew (13:24-30) sound like they might be written for the current world stage of politics, most especially our own country.

As a parish priest and cathedral dean, I always tried very hard to be non-partisan in the pulpit. However, as a pensioner and retired preacher waiting out the pandemic and watching the concurrent economic crisis, political upheaval and civil rights movement from my front porch, I can’t help but read this week’s gospel portion with a political lens.

I can’t help but ask: Who is sowing good seeds in our field, and who is sowing weeds among the wheat? I also can’t help but wonder: How much damage to the crop will be done by these weeds? How are we going to collect the weeds and burn them? And who is going to lead the reapers and harvesters? In other words, how are we going to manage the damage being done to our nation, who’s going to lead us out of this mess, and what must be done to harvest the wheat and destroy the weeds?

Writing from a city that has been deeply affected by the virus, the economic crisis, the political upheaval, and systemic racism — I can’t help but wonder how we will repair the damage. What I do know is this . . .

The 2020 election really matters; and every voice must be heard and every vote must be counted. What I believe is this: Every person and every life matters, but no life matters until and unless all black lives matter. What I hope is this: The Spirit of God — whom we call by many names and come to my many paths — will enlighten, empower, and embolden all of us to ask the right questions, listen carefully to the answers, seek the common good, and vote with faith, hope and a commitment to justice for all.

What do you know? What do you believe?

And what do you hope for as you wait out the virus and watch the world from your porch?