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Biography

“The good news is that the harvest of your life and mine is not yet here. There is time. We are ‘works in progress.’ God is patient and kind. If we acknowledge our need of God, our sin is forgiven, and we are empowered to love the world in His Name--as individuals, as brothers and sisters in the Body of Christ…”

The Rev. Canon V. Gene Robinson, Canon to the Ordinary for the Episcopal Diocese of New Hampshire since 1988, coordinates diocesan staff and ministry of the Office of the Bishop. Since 1983 he has served as Executive Secretary of the Episcopal Province of New England, and since 2001 on the Board of Trustees, General Theological Seminary.

Gene developed and led the “Being Well in Christ” conference approach to clergy wellness in some 20 dioceses. He initiated “Fresh Start,” the two-year mentoring program for all clergy in new positions and co-authored the curriculum used in 44 dioceses. Much of his ministry has focused on helping congregations and clergy in conflict and in studying congregational dynamics, conflict, and mediation. Co-author of three AIDS education curricula for youth and adults, Gene has done AIDS work in Africa. Within the diocese and province, he has facilitated anti-racism training.
A leader in the diocese’s partnership with the New Hampshire Community Loan Fund for affordable housing, he is on the board of the New Hampshire Endowment for Health, a foundation working for access to health care for the uninsured.

A 1969 graduate of the University of the South, Sewanee, Tennessee, he has a B.A. in American Studies/History. In 1973, he completed the M. Div. at General Theological Seminary in New York; after ordination he served as Curate at Christ Church, Ridgewood, New Jersey. Upon moving to New Hampshire in 1975, Gene co-owned and directed an accredited girls’ summer camp and horse farm. As founding director of Sign of the Dove Retreat Center in Temple, New Hampshire, he facilitated spiritual direction and designed programs for a variety of groups. He also managed the diocesan Living into Our Baptism program of spiritual growth and development.

From 1978-1985, Gene was Youth Ministries Coordinator for Province I, serving for two years on the National Youth Ministries Development Team and helping originate the national Episcopal Youth Event. “Most of what I have learned about being a Christian I’ve learned from young people.” He is one of the founders of Concord Outright, a support group for gay/lesbian/questioning teens.

Gene enjoys entertaining and cooking, gardening, music, and running. The father of two grown daughters, Jamee and Ella, he lives with his partner Mark Andrew, employed by the Department of Health and Human Services.

“The particular answer to these questions is less important to me than how we as a Church deliberate about them. Are we prayerful about them, listening for God’s voice instead of our own egos? Do we truly value the people who hold an opposing view, while disagreeing with their position? And most of all, can we continue to come to the communion rail, humbly receive the Body and Blood of Christ, respecting the dignity of those who disagree with us. I believe we can. And must.”

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The Reverend Canon Gene Robinson
Responses to Questions

Describe three contemporary saints who have influenced your ministry.

Saints are not perfect, of course, but are real human beings through whom, like the saints in stained glass windows, let the light of Christ shine through.

First, Carl Schaller, a faithful priest of this diocese, now retired, who for over 30 years served two small, North Country congregations with the graciousness of Christ himself. Carl is a constant reminder to me that one's ministry does not have to be glitzy or impressive in the eyes of the world to be powerful and meaningful to those served. Carl is a priest who understands what it means to be in love with his people. Though Carl spent most of his ministry "north of the notches," he has never been out of touch with the world. True to his ordination vows, he has taken his rightful role in the councils of the Church—both in the diocese and nationally—while never forgetting that real ministry happens at the local level. The joy he takes in God's natural creation is matched only by his passion to protect and preserve it. To be grabbed in one of his warm and welcoming bear hugs is to feel like the prodigal son welcomed home by a loving father. He is indeed a model, a saint, for me, from whom I have learned much of what it means to be a faithful priest.

Second, Barbara Harris, first woman elected bishop in Christendom. This physically small but spiritually gigantic woman has been a personal inspiration to me, as well as a friend and colleague. As both an African-American and a woman, she has known a double measure of prejudice and hatred, both overt and subtle. She is passionate about justice; she knows and teaches that, in the words of Martin Luther King, Jr., justice delayed is justice denied. Yet somehow, she is able to balance her powerful prophetic voice with humor and joy. Despite the honor and burden put on her for being the first woman bishop, she has always understood that she could do more for women, not by being "the first female bishop," but by simply being a good bishop. In talking with her about my own call to the episcopate, she showed me some of the hate mail she received for being the woman who went first—a chilling reminder of the hatred and evil in the world and the price paid sometimes for following God's call. But in encouraging me to follow this calling, she reminded me that "The power behind us is greater than the task ahead of us"—words she has shown to be true and by which I try to live my life.

Third, Mister Rogers. I know. He's not real. (Neither are several of the traditional saints we love and celebrate!) But he is very like the real life, ordained Presbyterian minister Fred Rogers, who created and for many years played him on the famous TV show for children. This TV saint, in his cardigan sweater and blue tennis shoes, was not afraid of looking like a nerd or playing in a sandbox ("unless you become like a child, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven"). Everything he said and did was an expression of the baptismal promise to "respect the dignity of every human person." For those not yet "too cool" to watch, Mister Rogers went about his neighborhood, rejoicing in its diverse races, ages, cultures and personalities, affirming each person and their unique gifts (including the four- and five year olds who were watching), asking the ultimate Good Samaritan question: "Won't you be my neighbor?" Not a bad role model for a bishop!

What risk have you taken for the Gospel?

Jesus Christ is no easy savior. While loving us unconditionally, He is always calling us into unknown territory, asking that we merely trust and journey with Him—as Abraham and Sarah did, venturing into an unknown land. As a 12 year old in a poor, rural congregation of the Disciples of Christ, I accepted Jesus Christ as my personal Lord and Savior. Little did I know where that would lead: becoming an Episcopalian in college, saying "yes" to Christ's call to ordained ministry, and my first call to a parish in Ridgewood, New Jersey.

Following Jesus Christ is never easy for long. Although I LOVED parish ministry, in 1975 God seemed to be asking my wife and me to leave that ministry and found a retreat center and summer youth camp, in southern New Hampshire, a foolish and risky idea in the eyes of many, but a clear calling for us. That ministry touched the lives and spirits of young and old alike for some 20 years.

Ultimately, of course, Jesus Christ challenges us to take Him at His word, to accept the extravagance of His accepting love, to be the Child of God we were created to be, no matter the cost—in order to better serve Him. I answered God's call to acknowledge myself as a gay man. My wife and I, in order to KEEP our wedding vow to "honor [each other] in the Name of God," made the decision to let each other go. We returned to church, where our marriage had begun, and in the context of the eucharist, released each other from our wedding vows, asked each other's forgiveness, cried a lot, pledged ourselves to the joint raising of our children, and shared the Body and Blood of Christ.

Risking the loss of my children and the exercise of my ordained ministry in the Church was the biggest risk I've ever taken, but it left me with two unshakable things: my integrity and my God. I learned that there is no way to Easter except through Good Friday. The Living Christ walked with me on that journey: telling the truth about my life and daring me to be the person God created me to be—for God's service. It won the hearts of my daughters, whom I feared losing, and, later, the love of a wonderful partner, with whom I've made a home for the past 13 years. Now, God seems to be calling me to another journey. If the people of the Diocese of New Hampshire call me as well to the ministry of the episcopate, I will embrace it with joy and excitement, knowing that the God who has called me before, will once again sustain and guide me.

How have you been called as a leader and a Christian to respond to the events of September 11th? How have you led your faith community to be a witness in the post September 11th world?

On the morning of September 11th, I flew into New York City. On my way into the City, I could see the flames inside the gaping hole in one of the World Trade Center towers and witnessed with my own two eyes the horror of a plane flying into the other tower. The "response" asked for in this question began, for me, immediately and in a very hands on way—receiving and comforting those who were fleeing the carnage northward into midtown Manhattan, in the midst of my own shock and loneliness, being cut off from those I love and unable to get out of the City. Once again I learned that we are never abandoned by God, even in the midst of unspeakable tragedy and evil.

Part of my ministry, and part of my own healing from that event, has been in sharing my own personal experience of it—it the smell, the chaos, the noise, the silence of it, and to reflect theologically on all the issues raised by it. Because of my diocesan position, my ministry took on a particular focus, working especially to reach out to New Hampshire's Islamic community, to offer the diocese's support in this difficult and dangerous time. I will never forget the courage displayed by Muslim men and women who came to the service at St. Paul's Church in Concord, to witness to their own condemnation and horror at this evil done in the name of Allah. The building up of such interfaith relationships is one of the great rewards coming out of this tragedy.

Very soon, in addition to the pastoral care needed after September 11th, I began to see the prophetic task presented to the Church. Could the Church speak out prayerfully and carefully, asking tough questions about our nation's response to this tragedy, without being disloyal to our great nation or insensitive to our leaders who are charged with our safety? Does scripture have anything to say about what our response should be? Does our faith offer any critique of notions such as "regime change" and unilateral action taken against another nation? America finds herself not only "the biggest kid on the block," but the ONLY big kid on the block and "those to whom much is given, much will be required." The Church at its best has always remembered that while it is IN the world, it must not be OF the world. "My ways are not your ways, says the Lord." The tragedy of September 11th calls us as Christians to both a pastoral AND a prophetic ministry to our nation.

Identify the top three issues or trends in the life of the Episcopal Church today and how you envision us as a diocese under your leadership relative to these issues and trends.

Can we live together while we fight? It should not surprise us that there is conflict in the church. Peter and Paul fought like cats and dogs in the early Church, so why should we be any different? Ironically, they fought over the same thing we fight over today: who should be included in the Church and who should be excluded from it. Whether we focus on race, gender, sexual orientation, abortion or stem cell research, we seem hell bent on proclaiming some people "in" and other people "out" (ourselves NEVER being in the latter group).

Because we live in a complex world, and because we don't ask our members to check their minds at the door, faithful Episcopalians will continue to disagree on whether abortion is a moral choice, whether dioceses should be forced to open their ordination processes to women, or whether faithful gay and lesbian relationships should be celebrated and not just tolerated. The particular answer to any of these questions is less important to me than how we as a Church deliberate about them. Are we prayerful about them, listening for God's voice instead of our own egos? Do we truly value the people who hold an opposing view, while disagreeing with their position? And most of all, can we continue to come to the communion rail, humbly receive the Body and Blood of Christ, respecting the dignity of those who disagree with us. I believe we can. And must.

Will our faith have children? A popular book on faith development by John Westerhoff is entitled Will Our Children Have Faith? But a more pressing issue for the Episcopal Church in this diocese and nation is whether or not our community of faith will have anything to offer our children, youth and young adults. Is it not alarming that 2/3 of those who answered the Bishop's Search questionnaire were over 55 years old? Is it not frightening that so many of our children and grandchildren know so little of the scripture and identify so weakly (if at all) with the Church?

Most of what I have learned about being a Christian I've learned from young people. Youth ministry is what I cut my teeth on. It pleases me to no end that I am known in one of our congregations as the "Canon Dude." If the Diocese of New Hampshire chooses to set children and youth as a priority for the diocese (not just lip service, but a commitment), as your Bishop I would put all my years of working with young people to work in the diocese. Visitations could be structured so that significant and meaningful contact could be made with all the young people of a parish, not just the confirmation class. The Bishop should accompany the diocese's young people to the national Episcopal Youth Event. The Bishop, with the assistance of parish leaders and clergy, should offer a day long conversation for those young people in high school or college who might like to talk about one day becoming ordained. In these and other ways, I would be willing to lead an effort to make sure that in the future, our faith will have children!

Are we a people in community, or is it "us" versus "them?" In New Hampshire and all over the Episcopal Church, not to mention America, we are raising questions about how we relate to one another. At the local level, parishes try to counter the "charity begins at home" philosophy when they ask parishioners to give generously to the work of the congregation. At the diocesan level, some people refer to "the diocese" as if it were made up of resident aliens rather than fellow Episcopalians. Connections are sometimes difficult to make between what we do here in New Hampshire and what is going on in the larger Church and world—and we become lazy about communicating those connections.

Like politics, all ministry is local. The diocese should exist—and be intentionally organized—to support ministry where it happens: in the local congregation. On the other hand, scripture warns that one part of the Body cannot say to another, "I don't need you." As your bishop, I would preach and teach about our responsibilities to one another—whether as Christians (working to lessen the gap felt between the diocese and our congregations), or as citizens (speaking out in public forums for the people of New Hampshire to share the responsibility for educating our children). There is no room for "them" and "us" in the Church, because in God's economy, there is NO "them." A bishop ought not only to preach that message, but with God's help, to embody it in his or her ministry.

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The Rev. Canon Gene Robinson
Episcopal Search Process, Diocese of New Hampshire

SUMMARY OF EXPERIENCE

Pastoral Care
– care of clergy and their families is a part of Doug’s episcopacy which he has generously allowed me to share in; that care has ranged from sitting with one priest soon after receiving his cancer diagnosis, to being with another priest and his wife after they had to have their son arrested; from con-celebrating Christmas eve “midnight mass” with one young rector and his family at his bedside just before his untimely death, to helping one of our rectors make the decision to take a less demanding position in order to save her family life
– congregations need pastoral care too; sometimes it’s helping resolve a conflict, or offering support and advice to wardens during a crisis or clergy search process, sometimes simply being present for an important celebration in the life of a congregation, or being with a congregation as it moves to a new building and presiding over the grieving and de-consecration of the sacred space they had shared for so many years
– pastoral care of those who have been abused by the sexual misconduct of clergy
– I’d also like to think I have offered pastoral care and friendship to Doug and Sue Theuner

Teaching
– initiating, writing, and teaching Fresh Start, with its 26 teaching modules for clergy and congregations in transition, on leadership development, parish life, conflict resolution, mutual ministry reviews, etc.
– designing and leading retreats for some 15 years at Sign of the Dove Retreat Center, Temple, NH
– leading the Living Into Our Baptism program, with its reflection on the baptismal covenant
– answering requests from many of our congregations to lead Lenten programs, retreats, vestry conferences and gatherings of various kinds
– co-authored two curricula for youth and an adult education resource on HIV/AIDS

Ministry with and to children and youth
– provincial youth ministries coordinator/national consultant; co-creator of Episcopal Youth Event
– designed and led retreats for youth groups, confirmation classes, intergenerational groups
– co-directed/owned a summer camp for girls, aged 7-14; directed camp with companion diocese

Congregational Development
– Mutual Ministry Reviews with clergy, wardens and vestries – often including extensive parish feedback
– leadership development, restructure, new member ministry, parish planning, envisioning the future
– facilitating the resolution of conflict, especially between clergy and vestry/congregation

Stewardship and Evangelism
– parish stewardship consultant/speaker/workshop leader; teaching the tithe
– staff consultant to the Advance Fund for the 90's diocesan capital fund campaign
– work with vestries/committees on parish growth – how to do it and how it will change the parish

Ecumenical and interfaith work
– representing the Bishop/Diocese at ecumenical/interfaith events and meetings
– sabbatical spent in Israel and Palestine, with Jews, Christians and Muslims

Leadership in outreach and social justice
– led diocese’s partnership with the NH Community Loan Fund for affordable housing
– Board member on NH Endowment for Health, working for health care access for the uninsured
– founding member of Concord Outright, a support group for gay/lesbian/questioning teens
– anti-racism work at the diocesan, provincial and national levels

Administration, including responsibility for personnel and finance
– as Canon to the Ordinary, shared overall management of diocesan staff, program, finances
– owned and directed ACA accredited, for-profit, summer camp for girls and horse farm

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Text for sermon preached by
The Rev. Canon Gene Robinson
St. Paul’s Church, Concord, NH
July 21, 2002

GOSPEL: Matthew 13: 24 - 30, 36 - 43

Matt 13:24 (NRSV) He put before them another parable: "The kingdom of heaven may be compared to someone who sowed good seed in his field; 25 but while everybody was asleep, an enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat, and then went away. 26 So when the plants came up and bore grain, then the weeds appeared as well. 27 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?' 28 He answered, "An enemy has done this.' The slaves said to him, "Then do you want us to go and gather them?' 29 But he replied, "No; for in gathering the weeds you would uproot the wheat along with them. 30 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.'"

36 Then he left the crowds and went into the house. And his disciples approached him, saying, "Explain to us the parable of the weeds of the field." 37 He answered, "The one who sows the good seed is the Son of Man; 38 the field is the world, and the good seed are the children of the kingdom; the weeds are the children of the evil one, 39 and the enemy who sowed them is the devil; the harvest is the end of the age, and the reapers are angels. 40 Just as the weeds are collected and burned up with fire, so will it be at the end of the age. 41 The Son of Man will send his angels, and they will collect out of his kingdom all causes of sin and all evildoers, 42 and they will throw them into the furnace of fire, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. 43 Then the righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their Father. Let anyone with ears listen!



O Lord, save us from the arrogance of “knowing,” and give us the humility which comes with remembering our need of You. Amen.


I’ve got a problem in my garden. This spring we planted some new bulbs, Montbretia, and in the space clearly demarcated for their growth, there are two kinds of plants. One of them is Montbretia; one of them is weeds. The problem is: I don’t know which is which!

Not unlike the parable Jesus told about the kingdom. In it, the servants note that two kinds of plants are growing in the field: Wheat, and something which (at least in the first few months) looks like wheat. In fact, it’s a weed which grows in that part of the world called “bearded darnel,” which looks exactly like wheat for a long time. When it finally heads out, its seed head is smaller than that of the wheat, and upon harvest, it can be sifted out – which is a good thing, because this weed can cause mild nausea in those who eat it. In Jesus’ parable, the workers, in their exuberance to purify the crop, want to rush in and pull out the darnel. But the Master says, “No, you’ll uproot the wheat. Wait. We’ll take care of it at harvest time. It’s going to turn out all right. The wheat will be gathered in the barn, and we’ll burn the noxious weeds.” And by the way, you can almost hear the Master saying, “How are you going to tell the weeds from the wheat?!”

You might be thinking that this parable is about evil in the world. It is. And God sends the rain on the just and the unjust – no matter how much it drives us crazy or how unfair it seems. You might be thinking this parable is about the cause of evil in the world. Which it is. And although I have a hard time imagining the devil, I know that evil can become so big, and so present, that it’s hard not to posit an evil mastermind behind it.

But for me, this parable, spoken by our Lord two millennia ago, is about arrogance and humility. Too much arrogance and too little humility in our lives as individuals, too much arrogance and too little humility in the Church, and too much arrogance and too little humility in America.

Arrogance, we all know, is the irritating air of one who exaggerates his/her own worth or contribution or knowledge. More specifically, according to Merriam Webster, to “arrogate” is to make undue claims or to seize without justification. And of all the things Jesus condemns, of all the things that make him angry, arrogance and self-righteousness are at the top of his list! And it occurs right in the middle of this parable when the servants assume that THEY can tell the difference between the wheat and the weeds. THEY know the difference between the good guys and the bad guys – and in their zeal to purge the weeds from the field, they threaten to destroy the wheat in the process. They have arrogated to themselves the ability and wisdom to tell good from evil. (Remember the Garden of Eden, and the Tree of Good and Evil of which we were not permitted to eat?)

I hate this parable, because on an interpersonal level, I do this all the time! Don’t you? We make judgments about people all the time – assume we know the motives behind the actions of another – make all kinds of judgments about the family next door, the mother on welfare, the man who has AIDS, the refugee who shows up at the Care Center, or the Enron executive facing a Congressional hearing – when in fact we know little about what is going on with these folk. But that doesn’t seem to stop our judging them.

In the Church, liberals malign conservatives, Anglo-Catholics barely tolerate evangelicals, and mainstream Christians are quick to dismiss fundamentalists. And vice versa, I might add. People who applaud the ordination of women have long ago written off those for whom it is still troublesome, heretical and painful. And vice versa. People who believe the Church should be fully inclusive of gay and lesbian folk believe that those who oppose their full inclusion are simply mean-spirited, and those who oppose it accuse the liberals of abandoning the authority of scripture. More often than not, each side in these debates would just as soon rip the other side out of the field by their roots.

The parable says to BOTH sides in these debates: Don’t be so sure you KNOW who are the weeds and who are the wheat. Don’t presume to know what is right. Say what you believe. Talk, discuss, fight even. But don’t claim to KNOW what God wants. Learn to exist together as the Body of Christ. Give it time. Disagree, even vehemently, but treat each other with respect. Fight if you must, but keep coming to this communion rail together to receive the Body and Blood of Christ. And in time, it’ll be sorted out. In the end, it’s gonna be okay. Because God is in charge, and GOD DOES KNOW the weeds from the wheat.

This parable says to me: Gene Robinson, don’t be so sure of yourself. You know God, but you can only know a tiny piece of the ultimate mystery of God, so don’t arrogate to yourself the knowledge of good and evil. Instead, with a humble heart, admit you don’t know everything, humbly work out your salvation with fear and trembling (not certainty), and treat those whom you regard as weeds in the field with special respect, lest in trying to root them out you harm the Body of Christ you so love.

Although it’s not an easy thing to listen to, I think this parable has a message for us globally as well. In the aftermath of September 11th, America is in great danger – not just from Al-Qaida, but in danger of becoming arrogant. We’re the biggest kid on the block. In fact, we’re the ONLY big kid on the block, and we have the might to do anything we want. So we are at risk for becoming arrogant – arrogating to ourselves the unilateral power of deciding who are the good guys and who are the bad. Actually, our track record in this regard isn’t all that good. It seems pretty clear to us today that Osama bin Laden is a bad guy – but a decade ago, when we branded Russia as the evil empire, we funded, trained and supported bin Laden in his fight against the Russians.

And now, this wonderful and great country of ours, which has always championed democracy and sought to deal with democratically elected leaders, has now, unilaterally, decided that democratically-elected Yassir Arafat is the wrong leader for the Palestinians. I don’t know if he is or not! But I am alarmed when our President declares that he KNOWS that the Palestinians would be better served by a different leader. What if the next person elected is from the militant group Hamas?! When we stop having an opinion about something, and start claiming to KNOW it, we are on a slippery slope.

Don’t get me wrong. There IS evil in the world. I flew into New York City on the morning of September 11th, and with my own eyes I saw evil crashing into those two towers of steel and humanity. We’re apt to see it again. And we must protect ourselves from it as best we can. But in our war on terrorism, let us be careful that the violence we do in routing out the Al-Qaida “weeds” of the world doesn’t destroy us in the process. We want to be safe, but let’s not give up our values and ideals in doing so. Let us not, as a nation, arrogate to ourselves the infallible knowledge of good and evil. Only God can fulfill that role.

This parable also speaks to me on a personal level – and here may be the key to understanding this relationship between arrogance and humility. It’s easy for me to see how the field, which contains wheat AND weeds, is ME, and MY life. I am BOTH. I do a lot of good; sometimes I say just the right thing; a good part of the time I walk with Jesus and know God and am moved by the Holy Spirit. But sometimes, I’m a stinker, a rat, a sinner lost in my own weakness. Or to put it in St. Paul’s words, “I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do.” (Romans 7:19)

I am both weeds and wheat. When I convince myself that I’m all wheat and no weeds, I am arrogant. When I make my enemies into all weeds, and no wheat, I am arrogant. But when I remember that I am both wheat and weeds, good and evil, then I am more humble about my own life and not so judgmental of others. When I remember how complex I am, how mixed my own motives, then I can better avoid stereotyping or caricaturing those with whom I disagree. When I remember the weeds and faults and shortcomings in my own life, I’m less likely to project my evil onto others, and more likely to seek and serve Christ in them, as I have promised in my baptismal vows.

And when I remember that I am both weeds and wheat, I remember my own need of God. And I think that’s the key to avoiding arrogance and embracing a healthy kind of humility. It’s what Jesus meant in the Beatitudes when he said, “Blessed are the poor in spirit” – that is, blessed are those who know their need of God. The arrogant man who criticizes the splinter in another’s eye while ignoring the plank in his own, has forgotten his need of God. The arrogant older brother who resents the Prodigal Son’s return home is blind to his own hardness of heart, and has forgotten that the Father loves them BOTH. The men who are ready to stone the woman caught in adultery forget their own sins, and in wanting to stone her, threaten to pull up the roots of their own virtue.

The good news is that the harvest of your life and mine is not yet here. There is time. We are “works in progress.” God is patient and kind. If we acknowledge our need of God, our sin is forgiven, and we are empowered to love the world in His Name – as individuals, as brothers and sisters in the Body of Christ, and as our beloved country in the community of nations. In acknowledging our need of God, we avoid arrogating to ourselves the knowledge of good and evil, and instead embrace humility and the miracle that “while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.”

The good news of this parable is: Let God worry about who are weeds and who are wheat. In time it will be clear. In time, all will be well. Because God is in charge. And God WILL have the last word. And for that, we can be truly thankful. Amen.

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