Weeds

 Catching up on the lives of others is always a two-edged sword. Especially if you’ve been away for a while and haven’t really kept up, it can be a kick in the teeth to find out that couples you thought would outlast the end of the world ended up divorced, kids who showed aptitude and promise ended up sheepherders, and believers who seemed to be the tip of the spear as far as preaching the gospel to the lost and dying, fell by the wayside.

Some of them still serve, but only halfheartedly; others gave it up altogether because anyone will tell you there’s a window you must exploit to make your fortune, then it’s gone. Once the shekels get sorted, and we’re flush and set for life, then, maybe, in our twilight, we will have a few moments to spare for the Kingdom. Hopefully, we won’t be incontinent and wearing a diaper by then, asking the nurse who brings our pudding if she remembers the good old days when rotary phones were still a thing.  

We hope Jesus understands and that He’ll be patient and wait on us to do the things He commanded, but deep down, we know He’s got a schedule to keep to, and if we remain silent, the stones will cry out. He said as much.

Our actions will find us out just as readily as our sins. What we prioritize is what we value. What we devote our time, energy, and resources to is what sits on the throne of our hearts, not what we declare with our lips. If a man says he loves you but spends all his time with another, showering her with gifts and flowers, he doesn’t. I’m sorry I had to be the bearer of bad news, but just because he drops in unannounced for some Netflix and a hot meal doesn’t mean he loves you.

On the flip side, if a woman says she loves you, but all you ever feel like is a wallet with legs, if she shows more affection for a stranger’s labradoodle than she does for you, then though she might declare, with the passion of Juliet, that you are her moon, her stars, the fuel that makes her heart go pitter patter, you likely aren’t.

Then there are the others. The ones that Jesus, Paul, Jude, and Peter warned of repeatedly and without equivocation. The spots, the snakes, the clouds without water. Those who feign brotherly love and imitate godliness; having a form of it but denying its power.

My dad has taken to calling them the weeds. Whenever someone who was as one of these comes up in conversation, my dad just shrugs his shoulders and says, “Just another weed.”

You will have tares among the wheat, just as surely as you will always have the poor among you. It’s not a matter of if; it’s a matter of how much, and in some instances, whether there is any wheat to speak of left. It is naïve to think that the enemy will leave the work of God alone, unharmed, unhindered, and unperturbed.

If God planted a fellowship, a church, or a family, be sure that the enemy will attempt to come in the night and sow tares among them. While they are still in the ground, before they sprout and grow, it’s hard to tell the difference between the two. Once they sprout, once they begin to grow, the difference becomes clear and unavoidable. If you know what wheat looks like, and you know what weeds look like, you’ll know the difference from a mile away. It’s not as though weeds can mimic wheat, and wheat will never attempt to mimic weeds.

The key is to know the difference between the two and what one is supposed to look like versus the other.

There’s a chocolate maker in Europe whose mascot is a purple cow. I think it’s called Milka, and their claim to fame is that all of their milk chocolate is made with real milk. A friend who lives in Vienna, Austria, has an eight-year-old daughter whose class went on a field trip to a working dairy farm last year. They live in the city, don’t own a car, and use public transit for everything, as do most of the families of the children she goes to school with.

My friend’s daughter had been to the home country often enough to know what an actual cow looked like. However, some of the kids in her class had never seen a real cow up until that point. All they’d ever known was the purple cow on the wrapper of their favorite chocolate treat. When they got to the farm and exited the bus, one of the boys in her class looked around, spotted the cows, and said, “They’re not purple. Why aren’t they purple? I don’t think these are real cows.”

False doctrine has so permeated the modern-day church, and it is so prevalent and invasive that oftentimes when someone hears the true gospel, their reaction is to decry it as false.

When you have an entire generation of lazy, entitled, lukewarm and indifferent Westerners looking their noses down on those who are being beaten, tortured, and martyred for the sake of Christ, insisting that it’s because they don’t have enough faith or because they haven’t learned to unlock their prosperity mindset, you know something has gone horribly wrong.

If all you’ve ever known and all you’ve been told is that cows are purple, it’s a shock to the system the first time you see one up close. The same is true for those who see the true gospel for the first time after years, perhaps decades, of subsisting on a diet of lies and half-truths about the gospel.

Know what makes a stalk of wheat and know what makes a weed. Avoid one, and be in fellowship with the other. That way, you won’t risk being tossed into the fire when the weeds are gathered up.

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr.