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Let Them Both Grow

Reflections on the Parable of the Wheat and the Weeds (Matthew 13:24–30, 36–43)

Jesus tells a story. A farmer sows good wheat seed in his field. But while everyone is asleep, an enemy comes and sows weeds. When the plants begin to grow, it becomes obvious. Something is wrong with the field. It’s a mess. And the workers are quick to act. “Should we pull up the weeds?”

The farmer says no. “Let them both grow together until the harvest.” The reapers will sort them out.

That’s the parable. And it hits harder the more time we spend with it.

It starts with good seed. The sower sows wheat. Not a mixture. Not mediocre seed. Good seed. And that matters. Because when we look around at the brokenness in the world or in the church or in ourselves, it’s easy to think something must have been wrong from the beginning. But the parable says otherwise. The first chapter of the book of Genesis tells us that the world was created good. The field was planted with care.

Something else has gone wrong. “An enemy has done this,” the farmer says. Jesus is clear who that enemy is. But before we jump to sorting and separating, we need to sit with the reality this parable names. The field is mixed. Wheat and weeds. Side by side. Intertwined at the roots.

And the farmer says to let them grow.

We can’t look at this parable without acknowledging that it ends with judgment. Jesus explains it to His disciples. The righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their Father, but the weeds will be gathered and burned. There will be weeping. Gnashing of teeth. These are hard words, and they are not accidental.

But the parable doesn’t dwell on that part. It simply names the judgment as part of the story. There will be a harvest. God will sort it out. And we are not the ones doing the sorting.

That’s where the parable does its work. Because our impulse, perhaps especially in the church, is to act like those servants. Let’s get the weeds out. Let’s clean things up. Let’s make it pure.

But when we do that, when we try to purify the field, we almost always get it wrong. We misidentify people. We damage relationships. We label people as weeds. People God loves. People Christ died for. People we don’t fully understand.

And often, if we are honest, the weediest part of us is the part that wants to go around pulling weeds.

This parable is first about the world. But it’s also about the church. And in a very real way, it’s about each one of us.

Wheat and weeds grow together. Not just out there, but in here. In me. In you.

And this is where the parable starts to feel even more personal. Because if I’m trying to pull all the weeds out of my life before I can have peace, guess who’s never going to have peace? That would be me. And you, too.

Until the harvest, you and I are going to be a mixed bag. And Jesus knows that. He’s not shocked by it. He doesn’t say, “Perfect yourself.” He says, “Let them both grow.”

Now, that doesn’t mean the Holy Spirit isn’t at work. Sometimes a little weed does come out. Sometimes the Spirit shows us something and gently helps us let go. But that’s different from judging ourselves or others as lost causes. That’s different from assuming we know who’s in and who’s out.

The master’s warning is clear. If you pull the weeds, you will damage the wheat. And I’ve seen it happen.

I’ve seen churches so eager to be “pure” that they drive people away. I’ve seen families torn apart over spiritual performance. I’ve seen people paralyzed with shame because they thought they had to clean themselves up before God could love them.

But that’s not the gospel. The gospel is that God loved us when we were tangled up. God loved us before we got anything sorted out. God still loves us, weeds and all.

Jesus didn’t come to uproot us. He came to save us.

There’s a quiet question underneath this parable. Can you participate in the patience of God?

Can you look at a mixed-up church, a messy family, an imperfect friend, and not rush to sort things out?

Can you look in the mirror and see both brokenness and belovedness, and live with that tension in faith?

Because God can. God does.

God is patient with you. Patient with me. Patient with a field that’s still growing.

And if we’ve received that patience, we can extend it to others. Not because they are easy to love. Not because they’ve got it all together. But for this simple reason. We pass to others what we have been given. “We love because He first loved us (1 John 4:19).

So what do we do?

If we’re not the sorters, what are we?

We’re the ones who walk through the field bringing grace and truth. Not judgment. Not labels. Just the gospel.

We speak truth. We name sin. But we do it in love. In humility. In full awareness that we’re still growing too.

And we trust the Sower.

Because the parable doesn’t end with uncertainty. It ends with a harvest. A good harvest. A shining, sunlit kingdom.

Our job is not to sort.
Our job is to love.

We don’t have to fear.
We can trust.

We don’t have to despair.
We can grow.

And when we find more weeds in ourselves or in the church or in the world, we don’t panic. We return to grace. We remember the cross. We trust the Sower who has already sown good seed and who promises to bring it to harvest.

Until then, let them both grow.