01.03. Chapter 2. The Tares and the Drag-Net
Chapter 2.
The Tares and the Drag-Net Or, a Mixture of Good and Evil to be in the Kingdom Till the End. The question whether the seven parables contained in the thirteenth chapter of Matthew were all spoken at one time is one on which opinion has been much divided. If the existence of a connection more or less intimate between these parables could settle the question there would be no room for dispute. For, while setting aside as a mere exegetical extravagance the view of those who find in this group of parables, in prophetic form, an epitome of the Church’s history from the time of our Lord till the end of the world,[1] we must admit the existence of a connection between them to this extent at least, that they exhibit mutually complementary aspects of the kingdom of heaven in its general nature, and in its progress and fortunes on this earth. The first, second, and seventh of the group—the parables of the Sower, the Tares, and the Net—teach us that the kingdom of God, as a phenomenon taking its place in the world’s history, is destined to be in various respects and for various reasons an imperfect and disappointing thing, coming far short of the ideal. In the first parable the shortcoming takes the form of an unsatisfactory abortive reception of the Word of the kingdom by many individual hearers, due to the moral condition of the recipients; while in the second and the seventh it takes the form of a mixture of good and evil not in the hearts of individuals, but in the society composed of the collective body of professed believers, some being genuine citizens of the holy commonwealth, and others counterfeit The third and fourth parables of the series—those of the Mustard-seed and the Leaven—exhibit the history of the kingdom on its bright side as a spiritual movement destined to advance, by a steady onward course of development, from a small beginning to a great ending, worldwide in its extent, and thoroughgoing in its intensive pervasive effect. The remaining two parables—those of the Hid Treasure and the Precious Pearl—exhibit the kingdom in its own ideal nature as a thing of absolute, incomparable worth, the highest good, worthy to be received, loved, and served with the whole heart as the summum bonum, whatever reception it may in fact meet with at the hands of men.
[1] Bengel, Greswell, etc. The fact of a connection is thus apparent, but it does not settle the disputed question alluded to. Two alternatives are possible. The connection between the parables might have led Christ to speak them all at one time, but it may also merely have led Matthew to relate them all in one place, though not all spoken at the same time; in accordance with his habit of grouping together materials connected by affinity of thought. That we are not shut up to the former of these alternatives, is sufficiently evinced by the fact that other parables can be pointed to which are undoubtedly closely connected in their subject-matter, and which nevertheless we have no reason to regard as uttered together; as for example, those relating to the subject of work and wages in the kingdom, the parables of the Talents, the Pounds, and the Hours.[1] These together constitute a complete doctrine on the subject to which they relate,—and a teacher of methodic habit would probably have spoken them all at once; but Christ uttered them as occasion required. And that they fit into each other is due to their truth, not to their being parts of one lesson given in a single didactic effort.
[1] Mat 25:14; Luk 19:12; Mat 20:1.
While thus content to leave the question undecided as regards the whole group of seven taken collectively, we are strongly of opinion that at least three of the seven were spoken at one time; even on the day when Jesus opened His mouth in parables sitting in a boat on the Galilean Lake. The three are—the parable of the Sower and the two to be considered in the present chapter. These three are connected not merely in a general way, as relating to the chequered fortunes of the kingdom in this world, but specially, as all illustrating the aspect of the kingdom then present to the Saviour’s thoughts,—the dark, melancholy side of things; and as suitable alike to the moral and the physical situation: to the moral, as addressed to a multitude comprising examples of all the various classes of hearers described in the parable of the Sower, and exhibiting the mixture of good and evil, of genuine and counterfeit discipleship, typified by the wheat and tares in the same field, and the good and bad fish in one net; to the physical, as spoken amid scenes where agricultural and piscatorial operations were daily carried on.[1]
[1] Keim takes the same view. He thinks that parables 3 and 4 (Mustard-seed and Leaven) went originally together; also 5 and 6 (Treasure and Pearl); likewise 1 and 2; perhaps also 7 (Sower, Tares, and Net),—thus forming one group visibly related closely in fundamental view and expression. He thinks it not improbable that the Treasure and the Pearl went along with the last group of three, because it was not Christ’s way in a popular discourse to give merely the facts or the metaphysics of the kingdom, but to aim at calling forth a movement of the human will, which would be done by the parables of the Treasure and the Pearl. On the other hand, he thinks the parable of the Mustard-seed and the Leaven were certainly spoken at another time; founding not only on the fact that they occur in different historical connections in Luke’s Gospel, but also on their hopeful, triumphant character, so different from those of the Sower, the Tares, and the Net (Vide ’Jesu von Nazara,’ ii. 446-9). Farrar thinks that along with the Sower went no other parables, "except perhaps the simple and closely analogous ones of the Grain of Mustardseed, and of the Blade, the Ear, and the Full Corn in the Ear,... perhaps with these the similitude of the Candle" (’Life of Christ,’ i. 324-5).
Tolerably sure as to the historical connection of these three parables, we are still more confident as to the propriety of grouping together for joint consideration the latter two of the three—those of the Tares and the Net. They are so like that on a superficial view one might be inclined to pronounce their didactic import identical. They do certainly teach the same general truth, viz. that a mixture of good and evil will prevail in the kingdom of God on this earth while the world lasts; and that this mixture, while in itself to be deplored, is nevertheless a thing which for wise reasons is to be patiently borne with in view of the great final separation. This being the leading lesson of both, the two parables really constitute but one theme; and to treat them in separate chapters were simply to repeat thoughts that can be most effectively uttered once for all. These parables, however, are not without their distinctive features, which forbid us to regard the one as a mere repetition of the other. A minor point of difference is that in the parable of the Tares the presence of evil in the kingdom is regarded as due to the deliberate action of an evil-minded agent, while in the parable of the Net it appears due rather to accident. A more important distinction is that while in the former parable the separation of the evil from the good is represented as for certain reasons not desirable, in the latter it is tacitly treated as impossible. The good and the bad fish must remain together in the net till they have been dragged to land. This difference if pressed would lead to another, viz. as to the character of the evil element. The tares might be held to represent manifested recognisable evil, the bad fish unmanifested hidden evil—a distinction answering to that taken by the Apostle Paul in the words: "Some men’s sins are open beforehand, going before to judgment, and some men they follow after."[1] Another point of distinction has been indicated, viz. that while both parables teach a present mixture of evil and good, and an eventual separation, they differ as to the truth emphasised in each respectively, the foreground of the one picture showing the temporary mixture, that of the other the ultimate separation. It is, however, possible to exaggerate this distinction; for in the parable of the Tares the future judgment is very distinctly described, and in the parable of the Net the idea that the mixture must last till the process of development is completed is not without recognition. The net is not drawn to the shore till it is full. The filling of the net answers to the ripening of the grain as the sign that the crisis has come. It is, doubtless, a far less apt sign; still the thing to be noted is that it is intended to serve that purpose. The net is not to be pulled prematurely to shore; it must be let fully out and allowed to have its full sweep, that it may catch as many as possible.
[1] 1Ti 5:25 We now proceed to the interpretation of the two parables. Our attention shall be first and principally occupied by the Parable of the Tares The place and the time being probably the same as in the case of the parable of the Sower, Jesus put before His hearers another parable, saying: The kingdom of heaven is likened unto a man who sowed good seed in his field; but while men slept, his enemy came and sowed ’tares’[1] among the wheat, and went his way. But when the blade sprang up and brought forth fruit, then appeared also the tares. So the servants of the householder came and said unto him, Sir, didst not thou sow good seed in thy field? Whence, then, hath it tares? And he said unto them, An enemy[2] did this. And the servants say unto him, Wilt thou, then, that we go and gather them up? But he saith, No; lest while ye gather the tares, ye root up the wheat along with them. Let both grow together until the harvest, and in the season of harvest I will say to the reapers, Collect first the tares, and bind them into bundles to burn them; but gather the wheat into my barn.—Mat 13:24-30.
[1] The word tares is a most misleading rendering of
[2]
[1] Hauspostillen, ’Predigt über das Evangelium Mat 13:24-30.’
Trying to bear these things duly in mind, let us inquire what is the primâ facie impression produced by the parable. Is it not this? That a mixture of good and evil men—of genuine and counterfeit disciples—is to be expected in the kingdom of God on earth, and to be regarded, as inevitable, with patience, though not with complacency; and that as this mixture is in itself, if not in all respects, yet at least in the main, an evil, the children of the kingdom are to comfort themselves under it with the expectation of an eventual separation, which they are assured will certainly come to pass in due season. Thus far the parable seems plain enough, but there are points on which one would gladly receive explanations. The tares, who precisely are they? Then, as to the toleration of the tares, is there to be no limit thereto? and if there is, where is the line to be drawn? Then what does the toleration amount to? Does it exclude Church discipline for errors in opinion and faults in conduct? or is Church discipline to take its course even to the extent of thrusting offenders out of the Church, the toleration prescribed consisting simply in permitting the excommunicated to remain in the world? We eagerly turn to Christ’s own explanations for a solution of our doubts, but only to be disappointed. These explanations are too elementary to meet the wants of those who, like ourselves, look back over a long course of historical development, and wish to know how far that course is in accordance with Christ’s mind as expressed in the parable. They were meant for those who had no idea of the import of the parable, and therefore contain little more than the mere alphabet of interpretation. A slight inspection will suffice to convince us of this. After dismissing the multitude, Jesus, in answer to a request from His disciples, gave the following interpretation of ’The Parable of the Tares of the Field.’
He that soweth the good seed is the Son of man; and the field is the world; and the good seed, these are the sons of the kingdom; but the tares are the sons of the wicked one,[1] and the enemy that sowed them is the devil; and the harvest is the end of the world, and the reapers are angels. As then the tares are collected and burned in the fire, so shall it be in the end of the world. The Son of man shall send forth His angels, and they shall gather out of His kingdom all things that offend, and those who do iniquity, and they shall cast them into the furnace of fire; there shall be the weeping and the gnashing of teeth.[2] Then shall the righteous shine out as the sun in the kingdom of their Father. Who hath ears, let him hear.—Mat 13:37-43.
[1] Or of wickedness. The R. V. here, as in the Lord’s Prayer, renders
[2] The articles indicate that these were familiar features in the picture of Gehenna. From this explanation, we learn that in the present parable the wheat and the tares are persons, while in the last parable—that of the Sower—the wheat is the word of the kingdom; and that the soil is the world in which such persons live, while in the Sower, the soil is the mind of those who hear the word. We learn, further, that the tares are the children of the wicked one, the good seed being the children of the kingdom. Now this is a very general, and indefinite statement, which leaves us free to regard the tares either as spurious Christians, or as evil men, whether professing Christianity or not. If the more general meaning be taken, then the juxtaposition of wheat and tares is in the world, as the common abode of all sorts of men, not in the Church; and the lesson to Christians is the very general one of patience under the trials inseparable from life on earth. Yet, again, we learn from this explanation of the parable given by Christ, that the reapers who make the final separation are the angels; but we are not told who the servants were who inquired Whence these tares? Are the angels the servants also? If so, then the parable contains no direct instruction as to the duty of the Church, but simply an intimation of God’s purpose in providence to permit a mixture of good and evil men in the world until the end of this dispensation. The only lesson for the Church is the implied one of acquiescence in God’s will. The only thing in the explanation which turns the scale in favour of a more specific conception of the drift of the parable is the expression, "gather out of His kingdom?[1] If the things that offend, and they who do iniquity, are to be gathered out of the kingdom, it is a natural inference that they were previously in it; in other words, that the tares are Christians at least in profession.
[1] Mat 13:41.
We are thus thrown back on the parable itself to see whether we cannot find more precise indications of the character of the evil element. And on looking narrowly, we do find certain particulars which tend to prove that the evil element consists not of bad men in general co-existing with Christians in the same world till the state of probation closes, but of counterfeit Christians. First and chief, there is the name of the noxious plant which spoils the crop—
[1] Greswell thinks we have no equivalent, and simply transfers the Greek word, putting it into English form—zizan. Scripture botanists identify
[2] Thomson, ’The Land and the Book,’ p. 421, argues against the notion as incredible. This theory is certainly not proceeded upon in the parable, which represents the tares as springing from separate seed sown after the wheat seed had been cast into the ground. But a resemblance is implied in the description of the tares not less close than if the theory were true; and this is the second point to which we ask attention. "When the blade," we read, "was sprung up, and brought forth fruit, then appeared the tares also."[1] In other words, when the wheat and the tares had got the length of being in ear, then, and not till then, did the tares appear as tares, and were clearly seen to be tares. This description, which well-informed travellers declare to be very exactly in accordance with fact,[2] surely suggests a closer connection between the two classes of men, represented by the two crops respectively, than subsists between good and bad men living together in the same world. If by the bad crop had been meant merely bad men in general, why emphasise so pointedly the non-distinguishableness of the two crops till the time of the earing? and we may add, why select a plant to represent the evil element so like wheat in the early stage of growth? why not be content with the thorns, which in the parable of the Sower choked the good seed, and prevented it from bringing forth fruit unto perfection? It is impossible for any unbiassed mind to refuse acquiescence in the opinion so well expressed by Lightfoot,[3] that the wheat and the tares signify not simply good and bad men, but good and bad Christians—both distinct from other men as wheat grain is distinct from all other seeds, but distinct from each other as genuine is distinct from bastard wheat.
[1] Mat 13:26.
[2] Thomson, ’The Land and the Book,’ p. 420, says: "In those parts, where the grain has headed out, they have done the same, and there a child cannot mistake them for wheat or barley; but where both are less developed, the closest scrutiny will often fail to detect them. I cannot do it at all with any confidence."
[3] Horæ Hebraicæ, in Evangelium Matthæi. The subsequent sowing of the field with tares,[1] and the ascription of this act to an enemy, are two additional features of the parable which point towards the same conclusion. What need of an additional sowing in order to get a crop of bad men in the world, living side by side with the children of the kingdom? Bad men abounded before the kingdom of God, which Christ came to found, appeared; and they were certain to abound after its appearance, without one taking pains for that purpose. But if what was meant by Jesus, when He spoke of tares as likely to arise when His kingdom was planted, was counterfeit forms of Christianity—forms of evil which would not have appeared had not Christianity appeared, and manifesting themselves as perversions of Christian truth—then we can understand why He spoke of an after-sowing of the field. Then, too, we can understand why He said with such emphasis "an enemy"—or still more strongly in the interpretation, "the devil"—"hath done this." For it is characteristic of an enemy animated by diabolical malice, not only to do mischief, but to do it in the most vexatious possible manner. But what more vexatious than to have one’s crop of wheat spoiled, not merely by a crop of noxious plants growing up in the midst of it, but by a crop which mocks the husbandman’s hope by its specious resemblance to the crop of genuine grain he has taken all needful pains to raise? To do this is a feat worthy of him who for wicked ends transforms himself into an angel of light, and who, in the quaint words of Luther, cares not to dwell in waste dry places, but prefers to sit in heaven.[2]
[1] That the tares were sown after the wheat is evident even from the T. R., which represents the enemy as sowing them among the wheat; but it is made specially prominent when, in place of the
[2] Hauspostillen, ’Predigt über Mat 13:24-30.’
Taking these features of the parable, then, along with the statement in the interpretation that the scandals are to be gathered out of the kingdom, we cannot doubt that the mixture of good and evil elements spoken of is a mixture to be exhibited, not in the world merely, but in the kingdom itself as it appears on this earth; and that the evil element is not bad men in general, but counterfeit Christians; or, if you please, anti-Christian tendencies, perversions of Christian truth into forms of error kindred in appearance, utterly diverse in spirit; as, for example, of spiritual authority into priestcraft, of salvation by grace into Antinomian licence, or of self-denying devotion into a gloomy asceticism. We do not, of course, mean that the tares are to be restricted to corruptions in doctrine. It is more probable that Christ had in view chiefly, not to say exclusively, men of evil life, by their conduct an offence and stumbling-block to faith. It is indeed a natural enough suggestion that the two expressions, "the scandals," and "those that do iniquity," refer to two classes of evil; the former to heresies, the latter to all forms of un-Christian practice: possibly united in the same persons, men at once errorists and evil livers.[1] But we admit that we learn to put this double construction on the words from history rather than from the words themselves. The dogmatic idea of heresy is a creation of a later age; the word in the New Testament denotes a moral offence. At the same time it has to be remembered that there are some opinions which have their root in a corrupt moral condition, which may therefore be included under the scandals alluded to.
[1] So Grotius. He remarks that after the first pure stage of the Church’s existence there began to mix themselves with Christians: "Duo hominum vitiosorum genera, alii prava docentes, alii puram professionem vita turpi dehonestantes. Prioris generis homines
I. First comes the Donatist solution. The Donatists, whose aim was to make the Church as pure in reality as it is in idea, got over the difficulty very simply, by denying the view of the tares which creates it, viz. that they signify spurious Christians known to be such, yet for certain reasons to be tolerated. The point in the parable and its interpretation on which they laid chief stress, was the statement, "the field is the world," and the lesson they drew from the parable was, Bear patiently the evil that is in the world,—a duty involving no obligation to tolerate evil in the Church. When their opponents pointed to the parable of the Net in proof that Christ contemplated a mixture of good and evil in the Church as a characteristic of its state antecedent to the end, they admitted that such a mixture was implied in that parable, but they evaded the force of the fact as an argument against their position by saying that it was only such a mixture as was due to ignorance on the part of the Church authorities. No one can tell what sort of fish are in a net while it is under the water, and in like manner there may be men in the Church of unholy character not known to be unholy, and their presence argues nothing in favour of tolerating within the Church men known to be unholy.[1] For the reasons already given we cannot acquiesce in this solution. The tares, we have seen, are counterfeit Christians subsisting side by side with genuine Christians within the kingdom. Nor does the statement "the field is the world" in the least invalidate the argument in support of that position. The field indeed is the world, and the statement is one of the numerous passages in the teaching of Christ which show that in His conception the kingdom of God, whose advent He announced, was designed to cover the whole earth, and the gospel He preached good news for all mankind. But while the field to be sown is the whole world, the field actually sown is the kingdom of God, as it exists in the earth at any given time, and the tares are within it; not of the kingdom as it is in God’s sight, but in the kingdom as a visible society.
[1] Augustine gives an account of this controversy as to the interpretation of the parable between the Catholics and the Donatists in the tract ’Ad Donatistas post Collationem.’
2. We notice next the Catholic solution of later times. This view, while admitting that the mixture spoken of in the parable exists in the kingdom and not merely in the world, and yet contending that heretics might not merely be excommunicated but be put to death, sought to reconcile existing practice with the prohibition against pulling up the tares by laying chief stress on the reason assigned for the prohibition—"lest while ye gather the tares ye root up also the wheat with them;" which was interpreted to mean, Then and then only must the tares be left alone when there is a risk of the wheat being uprooted; in other circumstances the tares may be gathered up at once. Aquinas, in stating this view, adopts the language of Augustine to the following effect: "Where that fear (of uprooting the wheat) has no place, but there is perfect security for the certain stability of the wheat, that is, when the offence of every one is so known, and appears execrable to all, that it either has no defenders, or none such as might cause a schism, let not the severity of discipline slumber."[1] Whether this conversion of an apparently absolute into a conditional prohibition be legitimate or not is a question for serious consideration, but there can be no doubt that the words quoted from Augustine by the great mediæval doctor point out a real and most important limitation of Church discipline. Where there is a risk of a schism being caused by severe dealing with offenders, whether in matters of faith or in matters of conduct, the Church is not only entitled but bound to consider the question—Which of the two evils is most to be feared, the toleration of reputed corruption in doctrine or practice, or a rupture in the body ecclesiastical? It is not difficult to imagine other instances in which a prudent regard to the Church’s highest interests might dictate the policy of letting the exercise of ecclesiastical censures fall into abeyance. Jerome points out one, when, commenting on the prohibition against uprooting the tares, and on the reason annexed, he says: "We are exhorted not quickly to cut off a brother, because it can happen that he who to-day is depraved by noxious doctrine may to-morrow repent and begin to defend the truth."[2] It is well for the Church when its office-bearers are able to apply wisely these two principles enunciated by two of the most esteemed among the ancient Fathers.
[1] "Cum metus iste non subest, sed omnino de frumentorum certa stabilitate certa securitas manet, id est, quando ita cujusque crimen notum est, et omnibus execrabile apparet, ut vel nullos prorsus vel non tales habeat defensores, per quos possit schisma contingere, non dormiat severitas disciplinæ." ’August, contra Epistolam Parmeniani,’ lib. iii., cap. ii., 13. The words are quoted by Aquinas in the ’Summa’ 2a 2as Ques. x., Art. viii.
[2] Comment in Matthæum.
3. Coming down to the time of the Reformation, we may select for notice the interpretations given respectively by Luther and Beza. Luther, in a sermon on the parable, asks two questions—whether the Church may use her authority and excommunicate those who create scandal, and whether the civil magistrate may use the sword against heretics. The former question he answers in the affirmative; and he reconciles his view with the prohibition in the parable by remarking that what is prohibited is the destruction of the tares. Those who exercise authority in the Church may excommunicate but not kill heretics. His second question Luther also answers in the affirmative, reconciling his answer with the parable by remarking that the Lord, speaks of the kingdom of God, and of what those who exercise authority there may do; so that the prohibition does not mean heretics shall not be slain, but merely they shall not be slain by the ministers of the Gospel.[1] This interpretation of the great German reformer needs no elaborate refutation. It may be answered in a single sentence. What the Master in the parable prohibits is not, as Luther alleges, the destruction of the tares, but their removal from the field, their separation from the wheat.
[1] Hauspostillen, Predigt über das Evang. Mat 13:24-30.
4. Beza, while acquiescing in Luther’s doctrine that heretics may be proceeded against by the censures of the Church and the sword of the civil magistrate, adopted an entirely different method of harmonising that doctrine with the teaching of the parable. He expounded his views of the parable in a tract in defence of the use of the sword against heresy by the civil magistrate, in connection with the burning of Servetus; his purpose being to reply to an argument drawn from the parable by his opponents in favour of religious toleration. These were, in brief, as follows:—The tares are not heretics merely, but all sorts of offenders, and therefore if the parable contains a prohibition against the killing of heretics by the civil magistrate, it equally contains a prohibition against the execution of all sorts of evil-doers,—which is absurd. But the parable in reality contains no prohibition, at least none directed either to ecclesiastical authorities or to the civil magistrate: the servants are the angels, and the parable represents God as telling them on what method He is to conduct His ordinary providential government. "As in the beginning of the history of Job, so here, the Lord is shown conversing with His angels concerning the future state of His Church in this world." That state in general is to be one of tribulation, the children of the kingdom mingling in the intercourse of life with unbelieving and ungodly men, and enduring much at their hands. The only lesson for Christians to be inferred from the parable is the duty of bearing patiently with this general condition of things. Against the appropriate punishment of individual evil-doers, whether in Church or in State, it says not a word. It is assumed that such punishment is to be inflicted as far as possible; only we are given to understand that when ecclesiastical and civil officers have done their utmost, the world will after all be a most ungenial home for the children of the kingdom. After the remarks already made in discussing the question who are the tares, we deem it quite unnecessary to enter into detailed criticism of this interpretation. We only observe how unlikely it is that Christ should utter a parable teaching so very general and commonplace a truth at the time and in the circumstances in which there is reason to believe the parable was spoken; and how unlikely, if He desired to convey such a lesson, that He would put the truth in so unsuitable a form. Why call wicked men in general tares?—why not rather, as on other occasions, speak of them as wolves, to whose violence His sheep are to be exposed in this world? If we desire to know how our Lord spoke to His disciples of the tribulations they should encounter in the world, we must turn not to this parable, but to His discourse to the twelve in connection with the Galilean mission,[1] or to His farewell address to them on the eve of His Passion.[2]
[1] Mat 10:16.
[2] John 16:1-33.
5. Only one other solution of the problem now under consideration calls for mention, viz. that hinted at by Jerome and favoured by many modern theologians of high reputation. This view finds the key to the interpretation of the parable in the likeness of the tares to the wheat and the risk thence arising of pulling up wheat by mistake.[1] The words, "lest while ye gather up the tares ye root up also the wheat with them," it takes to mean, not "lest ye pull up that which though tares to-day may be wheat to-morrow," but "lest in pulling up that which ye fancy to be tares ye uproot that which in reality is wheat." The reason for the prohibition being thus understood, it is of course assumed that when there is no room for doubt as to the noxious character of the plants mixed with the wheat, they may at once be removed. Now it is undoubtedly true that there is a close resemblance between the tares and the wheat, and that there is an intention in the parable to emphasise the fact. It is meant that we should note that tares, as Bengel remarks, have a much better appearance than thorns and thistles.[2] It may also be admitted, as the same writer observes, that from the toleration of tares we may not argue for the toleration of thorns[3] and thistles, which, as we are told by another patron of this view, only a wretched farmer would suffer in his fields.[4] Nor is it difficult to imagine forms of spiritual evil answering to the tares which have to be tolerated, as distinct from forms answering to thorns and thistles which may not be tolerated. We are quite willing to accept the description of the spiritual tares given by the author last referred to: "They are the false brethren," the "dogs," the "concision," the "lying apostles who, like the devil himself, transform themselves into angels of light—men, in short, whose corrupt conduct is not altogether hidden from the true servants of the Lord, but who yet, with all their badness, show a certain skill and moderation, so that no truly Christian society has the courage to subject them to Church censures."[5] But the difficulty which stands in the way of our accepting this interpretation is that in the parable it seems plainly implied that at the stage of growth at which the crop had arrived, the difference between wheat and tares could be plainly recognised, so that if it had been desirable the servants could have taken out each individual stalk of tares without mistake, at least without mistake arising from ignorance, for of course mistakes through carelessness would be very likely to happen. And further, the evil apprehended does not appear to be that wheat may be pulled up by mistake, but that wheat may be pulled up along with the tares, owing to the intertwining of their roots in the soil. It is not said, Lest ye root up wheat instead of tares, but, Lest ye uproot the wheat along with them.[6] We cannot avoid the conclusion, therefore, that whatever lesson our Lord desired to teach, He meant to apply not merely to forms of evil of doubtful tendency, but to forms of evil whose character and tendency can no longer be doubted.[7]
[1] Jerome says: "Inter triticum et zizania, quod nos appellamus lolium, quamdiu herba est, et nondum culmus venit ad spicam, grandis similitudo est, et in discernendo aut nulla aut perdifficilis distantia."—’Comment. in Matthæum.’
[2] "Zizania majorem speciem habent quam cardui et spinae."—Gnomon.
[3] "A tolerantia illorum ad horum non valet consequential—Gnomon.
[4] De Valenti, ’Die Parabeln des Herrn.’
[5] De Valenti, i., p. 163.
[6]
[7] Besides Bengel and De Valenti, may be mentioned as supporting the foregoing interpretation, Tholuck, who in an interesting discussion of the parable in the ’Literarischer Anzeiger’ for 1847, in a review of Trench’s work on the Parables, goes very fully into the history of opinion. Trench himself favours this interpretation, though not adopting it exclusively. But how, then, are we to get over the difficulty with which all the foregoing interpretations unsuccessfully grapple? Simply by bearing duly in mind this very elementary consideration, that Christ is not here laying down a rule for the regulation of ecclesiastical practice, but inculcating the cultivation of a certain spirit—the spirit of wise patience; a spirit to be cherished by all men in all spheres, civil and ecclesiastical, but especially by Christians, the children of the kingdom. What has been well said concerning the Sermon on the Mount applies to this parable: everything in this discourse refers us to the world of temper and disposition.[1] Beza was not wrong in saying that the lesson of the parable is a lesson of patience; his error lay in restricting the scope of the lesson to the tribulations Christians encounter in the world. The lesson applies not only to the evils in the world, but also, and more particularly, and chiefly, to the evils in the Church; it applies to the bearing and behaviour of Christians towards these evils, however exhibited, whether in formal Church discipline, or in private and social intercourse. The parable neither prohibits nor fixes limits to ecclesiastical discipline, but teaches a spirit which will affect that part, as well as all other parts, of religious conduct; and which, had it prevailed in the Church more than it ever has prevailed, would have made the Church’s history very different from what it is. A recent writer on the parables, who interprets this parable as Beza did, while of course having no sympathy with the persecuting principles advocated by the sixteenth century divine, tries to shut into a corner those who hold that the parable inculcates a tolerant attitude towards evil in the Church by a peremptory logic of alternatives, thus: the prohibition against pulling up the tares is absolute; therefore either Church discipline is absolutely prohibited, or it does not bear upon discipline at all.[2] The futility of this Either-or logic may be very easily shown by a parallel case. In the Sermon on the Mount the Preacher says, "Swear not at all." Are we to say, This is either an absolute prohibition of oath-taking, or it has no bearing on the subject of oaths? Certainly not. The precept does not absolutely prohibit oaths, and yet it does bear most closely on the subject of oaths. It means, let there be no occasion, so far as you are concerned, for swearing oaths; let your utterances be absolutely truthful, your yea, yea, and your nay, nay. It is a precept whose importance every Christian acknowledges, yet few dream of its being incompatible with the actual swearing of oaths on proper occasions for confirmation of one’s word, and to put an end to doubt and strife. For however truthful I may be, I know that there are many false men in the world, and that therefore distrust is excusable—distrust even towards myself, seeing it is hard to know true men from knaves. Even so, while the world lasts, there will be need and room in the Church for the exercise of discipline, that the reality of Christian life in the holy commonwealth may come as near as possible to its high ideal; and yet the lesson of our parable will always be valid as a protest against all Church censures springing out of an impatient view of the evils inseparable from the kingdom of God in its present earthly state, and as an admonition to those who have authority in the kingdom to exercise their authority in accordance with the rule so well expressed by Augustine: "Let discipline preserve patience, and let patience temper discipline, and let both be referred to charity, so that on the one hand an undisciplined patience may not foster iniquity, and on the other hand an impatient discipline may not dissipate unity."[3] [1] Martensen, ’Christian Ethics,’ p. 382.
[2] Arnot on the ’Parables of our Lord,’ p. 95. This respected author accuses Dr. Trench of an Erastian bias in his way of applying the parable to the subject of discipline. But bias in an opposite direction is very manifest in his own case. He assumes that the ecclesiastical practice of his own Church in such matters is unquestionably right: the possibility of the contrary does not seem to have entered into his mind. This is the secret of his partiality for the Donatist interpretation of the words, "the field is the world." This example may illustrate what we said at the commencement, that a man has no chance of understanding this parable who is not prepared to admit the possibility of his own Church, yea, of himself, sinning against the Lord’s mind as set forth therein. There are certainly two sides to the question how far a jealous exercise of discipline is wise or unwise.
[3] ’Ad Donatistas post Collationem,’ iv. 6. The philosophy of this patience with evil prevalent in the visible Church is not fully given in the parable; at most we have but a hint of the rationale, though it is a hint which suggests much more than it says to those who understand. Before remarking on this pregnant hint we cannot but advert in passing to the marked contrast between the implied teaching of the parable of the Sower and that of this parable, as to the mode of dealing with evil appearing in connection with the work of the kingdom. The implied teaching of the former parable, in reference to the thorns, is: Get rid of them, else there will be no crop of good grain. The expressed teaching of the present parable with reference to the tares is: Let them alone till the good grain is ripe. Whence this difference? Hence: the evil in the one case is within ourselves, in the other case it is without us, in other men. The doctrine of the one parable is, Tolerating evil in ourselves is deadly to our spiritual interest; that of the other, Tolerating evil in others is not necessarily so—may even be profitable as an exercise promoting the growth of the graces of patience and charity. Thus viewed, the lessons of the two parables are not only mutually compatible, but in harmony with the whole tenour of our Lord’s ethical teaching. On the one hand, He ever inculcated inexorable severity in self-judgment, saying, e.g. in the Sermon on the Mount, "If thy right eye or thy right hand offend thee, pluck it out, or cut it off and cast it from thee;"[1] on the other, with reference to our fellow-men, He gave this counsel in the very same discourse, "Judge not, that ye be not judged."[2] Many are slow to understand the grounds of these diverse counsels, and appear to think themselves as responsible for the sins of their brethren as for their own; not to say more, for there are some of whom more could be said, viz. that they behold a mote in their brother’s eye, and consider not the beam that is in their own eye.[3] It is, indeed, a question deserving serious consideration on the part of all Christians, what are the limits of responsibility in connection with the sins of fellow-members of the same religious communion? That there is a certain amount of responsibility cannot be denied, for the Church is not an hotel in which men may sit side by side at table, without knowing, or caring to know, anything about the character of a fellow-guest. But, on the other hand, the responsibility is a strictly limited one, coming far short of the responsibility lying on each man for his own conduct; for if the Christian Church is not an hotel, as little is it a club whose members may claim and use the right of excluding from membership every one who is not in all respects a person according to their taste and fancy. This club theory of Church fellowship, however, is much to the liking of many. It was the theory in favour with the Donatists, who held that mixed communions were infectious, and that the pious were polluted by fellowship with the profane. Against this ultra-puritanic theory the quaint observations of Fuller may aptly be cited: "St. Paul saith, ’But let a man examine himself, and so let him eat of that bread,’ but enjoins not men to examine others, which was necessary if bad communicants do defile. It neither makes the cheer or welcome the worse to sit next to him at God’s table who wants a wedding garment; for he that touches his person, but disclaims his practices, is as far from him as the east from the west, yea, as heaven from hell. In bodily diseases one may be infected without his knowledge, against his will: not so in spiritual contagions, where acceditur ad vitium corruptionis vitio consensionis, and none can be infected against their consent."[4] [1] Mat 5:29-30. See also Mat 18:8-9, where the counsel is repeated in the sermon on Humility.
[2] Mat 7:1.
[3] Mat 7:13.
[4] Thomas Fuller: ’The Profane State,’ bk. v. chap ii., on The Rigid Donatists. The Latin quotation in the above extract is from Augustine ’Contra Donatistas post Collationem.’ In the same tract Augustine expresses the principle of limited responsibility in terms first used by the Donatists in self-defence, and then turned against them by the Catholics: "Nec causæ causa, nec personæ persona præjudicat."
Let us now look at the hints contained in the parable at a philosophy of the patience it inculcates towards the evil existing in the visible Church. "Nay," said the householder to the servants who proposed that the tares should at once be gathered out; "lest while ye gather up the tares ye root up also the wheat with them." Then, to explain wherein the harm of such a result lay, he added: "Let both grow together until the harvest." That is, the uprooting of the wheat is an evil when it happens during the process of growth. When that process is complete no harm can be done, the time for uprooting or cutting down having arrived. The doctrine of the parable therefore is: The matter of prime importance is not that the tares be got rid of, but that the wheat pass through the natural course of development till the process of growth reach its consummation. If both ends cannot be accomplished together, beware of sacrificing the more important to the less important.[1]
[1] Keim says, "The parable shows the deep wisdom of Jesus forbidding all violent attacks against evil as an interference not only with the Divine order of judgment, but with the order of the earthly development in good and evil; the fine thought being quietly insinuated that the undeveloped good can easily appear to the human eye as bad, and the bad as good, so that both can assume a fixed definite character only through the tolerating of the process of development." ’Jesu von Nazara,’ ii. 450. But headlong zeal for purity is ready to ask, Why cannot the two ends be accomplished together? how should the growth of the wheat be imperilled by the uprooting of the tares? Thoughtful minds have suggested various answers to these questions. Perhaps the case in which the risk is most obvious is that in which the tares are represented not by a few individual instances of men holding unwholesome opinions, and indulging in unchristian practices, but by an evil tendency, widespread in society, such as the rationalism which prevailed so extensively in the churches in the eighteenth century. It is such a case that is contemplated in the parable. The wild crop is so abundant as to make the question of the servants "Didst thou not sow wheat?", implying a shade of doubt, not an impertinence. The corresponding state of things in the kingdom indicated thereby is such as to be a stumbling-block to faith, and to give rise to doubt whether it be the kingdom of God at all, and not rather the kingdom of darkness and evil;[1] such as to demand Satanic influence for its explanation, This must be borne in mind in connection with the prohibition to uproot the tares, which has reference to the special case supposed, that of a crop of tares growing from seed sown over the whole field, and is compatible with a contrary practice when the tares are merely stray stalks growing accidentally in the field. In such a case they are actually gathered out of a growing crop at the present hour,[2] and probably were also in our Lord’s time, as the proposal of the servants to uproot them implies. If so, then we must conclude that an exceptional case is supposed in the parable, to convey an adequate idea of the extent to which corruption would prevail in the Church, and also the special need for care in the spiritual sphere not to uproot anything good.
[1] This is implied by the expression
[2] So Stanley reports, ’Sinai and Palestine,’ p. 426. My esteemed friend, Dr. Robertson Smith, late Professor of Hebrew in the Free Church College, Aberdeen, now Lord Almoner’s Professor of Arabic in the University of Cambridge, and Librarian of that University, informs me that during a recent visit to the East he ascertained the present practice to be as stated above. I cannot refer to his name without expressing my deep regret that his great talents have been lost to the Scottish Church. For such a state of things as that implied in the parable the only remedy is patience—a patience inspired and sustained by the hope that a new time will come, bringing a new spirit, a new faith, and a new life; a hope that maketh not ashamed, and which has never been disappointed from the beginning of the Christian era till now. In such a state of things impatience, prompting to stamping-out measures, is folly, and has been condemned as such by the wisest in the Church from the time of Augustine downwards. Such a policy of impatience forgets the solidarity of men living together in the same religious community: the many ties, spiritual and social, by which they are knit together; and the penalty of its heedlessness is dismemberment, schism,—the extensive uprooting of wheat and tares together. Far better tolerate the evil, even if it were in your power to get rid of it, than uproot it at such a cost. And if the evil should be so prevalent as to outnumber and overpower the good—and this is quite a possible case—equally to be condemned is the form which the policy of impatience is then apt to assume; that, viz. of the wheat pulling up, not the tares, but itself, even when the tares are quite willing to live side by side with it. In such a case the wheat should remain among the tares, and grow there as long as the tares will permit it. The Donatistic spirit dictates another course. It says, "Come out from among them, and be ye separate." Alas that it should have found so many at all times ready to obey its summons, and forsake the Church in disgust because all goes not according to their wish, and because nowhere appears absolute purity;[1] heedless of the warning that "they may fly so far from mystical Babylon as to run to literal Babel, bring all to confusion, and founder the commonwealth!"[2]
[1] Calvin says: "Plerique zeli praetextu, plus aequo morosi, nisi omnia ad eorum votum composita sint, quia nusquam apparet absoluta puritas, tumultuose ab ecclesia discedunt vel importuno rigore eam evertunt ac perdunt."—’Comment. in Harmoniam Evang.’
[2] Thomas Fuller; ’Profane State,’ bk. v. chap. ii. In pursuing this policy of impatience, whether in the way of pulling up the tares or in the way of pulling up itself, the wheat does itself much spiritual harm, quite distinct from the external evil of separation into sects. The policy tends to foster pride and uncharitableness, and so prevents the wheat from ripening, or causes it to degenerate into something not better than tares, whose fruit is poisonous. The children cf the kingdom become too conscious of being the wheat, boast of their purity, thank God they are better than others, and by doing so make themselves worse, banish from their hearts the spirit of Christ, and bring on their souls the curse of impoverishment and barrenness. How small the harm done by the mere juxtaposition of the tares to that which self-righteous zealots thus inflict upon themselves! For such reasons as these ought the tares to be borne with even when there is no room for doubt as to their being tares,—which is the case supposed in the parable. It is evident that from the injunction to practise tolerance even in such a case an argument à fortiori may be drawn in favour of the toleration of plants whose character is doubtful. There is an additional reason for tolerance in such a case—viz. that the wheat may be pulled up not along with but instead of the tares; that being mistaken for a noxious plant which is in reality a stalk of genuine grain. This danger is not imaginary; the mistake has often happened, and it may often happen again. There is a constant risk of committing the mistake arising out of this circumstance, that every new visitation of God in His grace to His Church is apt, when new, to appear anything but a good gift to those familiar with the grace of the kingdom under its old forms. "Every new thing," it has been well said, "which appears in the life of the Spirit, every thought which moves the world for the first time, looks dangerous; one knows not what to make of it, and is troubled. Even Christ with His apostles appeared to the Jews and heathens as an impious rebel against Divine and human right."[1] For this reason we should be slow to suspect new things and in no haste to judge them. "Judge nothing before the time,"—allow it to develop itself, and to reveal its character; and if it turn out to be tares, it will be time enough then to consider what is to be done with it. This seems so obvious a dictate of reason, that those who act otherwise may be suspected of being actuated by by-ends, or even of being themselves tares; for there is truth in the shrewd observation of Bengel, "Often tares pass themselves off as wheat, and endeavour to eradicate wheat as if they were tares."[2] At the least they are chargeable with great folly; for who that is wise would act like those empirics "that would cut off a man’s head if they see but a wart upon his cheek, or a dimple upon his chin, or any line in his face to distinguish him from another man."[3] [1] Arndt, ’Die Gleichnissreden Jesu Christi.’ ii. 204.
[2] "Saepe et pro tritico se venditant, et triticum tanquam zizania eradicare conantur."—Gnomon, in loc.
[3] Jeremy Taylor, ’Epistle Dedicatory to the Liberty of Prophesying.’ To these arguments in favour of a policy of patience towards evils prevalent in the visible Church on earth, must be added one that will carry more weight with all true Christians than all the rest, viz. the example of Christ. He who spake this parable, Himself complied with its teaching, and took patiently the marring of His work as the Founder of the kingdom by Satanic influences; of which we have a witness in His behaviour towards the counterfeit disciple Judas, whom He bore with meekly till the hour came when He was ready as a grain of wheat to fall into the ground and die. How significant in connection with this patient bearing of our Lord the name which He gives Himself in the interpretation of our parable. "He that soweth the good seed is the Son of man."[1] It is the name we all know and value so much as the symbol and pledge of Christ’s meekness and of His sympathy with men, the name appropriate to His state of humiliation and to His work as the Saviour of the lost. The use of the name here suggests an argument in support of the doctrine of the parable to this effect: "I, the Son of man, find an enemy busy sowing bad seed in the field where I have sown the good seed. It is saddening and disappointing, but I know it will be, and I am content that it should be, till the end. When the end comes, then the Son of man, who is now humbled by the counterworking of the evil one, will be glorified by being placed at the head of a kingdom wherein shall be none that offend or that commit iniquity. Be ye like Me in this: beat patiently the mixture of evil with the good in the kingdom, and the obscuration thence arising to the children of the kingdom from the difficulty of knowing who are such indeed. The time will come when ye shall at length along with Me shine out as the sun shines out from behind a cloud[2] in the kingdom of your Father." How happy for the Church if all the children of the kingdom felt the power of this appeal! But, alas! it is hard to imitate the patience of Christ I Need we wonder at the impatience of many young Christians, who are naturally prone to severity, and even of not a few old ones, in whom patience might have been expected to have had its perfect work, when we think of the immense contrast between Jesus and His contemporary and forerunner John in this respect? Jesus is content that good and evil should grow together during the long course of development through which He knows His kingdom has to pass. John demands an instant severance of good from evil, of wheat from chaff, and conceives of Messiah as coming with a fan in His hand for this judicial purpose, and on finding that He has come without the fan, sends to Him to ask the doubting question, "Art thou He that should come, or do we look for another?"[3]
[1] Mat 13:37
[2]
[3] Mat 11:3. The Drag-Net
Having discussed at such length the parable of the Tares, a very few sentences will suffice to complete the exposition of the kindred parable of the Net, which is as follows:
Again, the kingdom of heaven is like unto a net, that was cast into the sea, and gathered of every kind; which, when it was filled, they drew upon the beach; and they sat down and gathered the good into vessels, but cast the bad[1] away. So shall it be at the end of the world: the angels shall come forth and sever the wicked from among the just, and shall cast them into the furnace of fire: there shall be wailing and gnashing of teeth.—Mat 13:47-50.
[1]
After what has been said it is unnecessary to discuss the debated question whether the mixture of good and evil spoken of in this parable be within or without the kingdom. No one convinced by the reasoning whereby we have attempted to show that the mixture is within in the case of the parable of the Tares, will think it worth while to contend for the thesis that it is without in the case of the parable of the Net. To show how pointless and inapposite to the affairs of the kingdom the parable becomes in the hands of those who maintain that position, nothing more is needed than to allow one of its most strenuous recent advocates to state it in his own words. "The net is not the visible Church in the world, and the fishes good and bad within it do not represent the true and false members of the Church. The sea is the world. The net, almost or altogether invisible at first to those whom it surrounds, is that unseen bond which by an invisible ministry is stretched over the living, drawing them gradually, secretly, surely, towards the boundary of this life, and over it into another. As each portion or generation of the human race are drawn from their element in this world, ministering spirits, on the lip of Eternity that lies nearest Time, receive them, and separate the good from the evil."[1] A very graphic and solemn representation, but what has it to do specially with the kingdom of God? The process described, the drawing of human beings out of the sea of Time to the shore of Eternity, goes on all the world over, in pagan as well as in Christian lands. Doubtless the parable contains the important doctrine of an Eternal Judgment,—the only doctrine which on this view it teaches. But that doctrine is not a specific truth of the kingdom of God; it is a doctrine of natural religion, and as such was taught in the religions of Egypt, Persia, and Greece. To make it a specific doctrine of the kingdom it would be necessary to point out the principle on which the final separation takes place,—as is done, for example, in the parabolic representation of the last judgment in the twenty-fifth chapter of Matthew, where men’s eternal destiny is made to turn on the way in which they treat Christ, in the person of His representatives, the poor and needy. But the parable now under consideration enunciates no specifically Christian principle of judgment,—no principle of judgment at all, indeed, beyond the very general one that men shall be disposed of according to their moral characters. The parable, therefore, becomes one relating to the kingdom only when it is assumed that the casting of the net has reference to the work of the kingdom, and the goodness and badness of the fish to the moral qualities of those who are the subjects of that work.
[1] Arnot, ’The Parables of our Lord,’ p. 170. This parable asserts even more emphatically than that of the tares that not now but at the end of the world is the time for separation of the good and evil mixed together in the kingdom. It so puts the matter that separation is seen to be not merely undesirable but impossible; for till the fish are landed it cannot be known which are good and which are worthless. The graphic representation has a manifest tendency to act as a wholesome sedative on impatience and anxiety. Why fret over a mixture of the evil with the good, which is pronounced on authority to be in present circumstances inevitable in some form, if not in the form of open scandal, at least in the form of hypocritical religious profession on the part of men who have a form of godliness without the power? We might be better employed than in fretting over what cannot be helped—viz. in casting a net and in striving to bring as many as possible within the kingdom. That is the business of the present hour; not to judge or sift, but to catch fish, using a large net and giving it as wide a sweep as possible. The proportion of good fish to bad may be very small,—it was so in Christ’s own experience; for of that crowd on the shore which listened to His parables, and which represented the result of His past labours, all but a few, when the day of crisis and sifting came, "went back, and walked no more with Him." It is a sad spectacle, and all the more that it may be taken not as an isolated but almost as a typical case; nevertheless, the duty of Christians is plain. It is not to ask wistfully shall many or few be saved, but to strive with might and main to bring into the Church as many as possible of such as are at least in the way of being saved.[1] In this connection it is important to note the kind of net referred to in the parable. It is a seine-net[2] of vast length, such as men use in the sea where there is ample scope for a wide sweep with a view to a great haul. The word is aptly chosen so as to be in congruity with the Catholic aim and hopeful spirit of Christianity, which is a religion for the world, and the Author of which gave it as His last injunction to those whom He had chosen to be fishers of men: "Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature."[3] Of the final separation so solemnly asserted and described in those two parables we do not here speak. We close with a single word concerning a notion of sceptical critics as to the alleged ecclesiastical party tendencies of the parables, which scarce deserves notice save for the great names with which it is associated. The Tubingen school, who find tendency everywhere in the New Testament, will have it that traces of the great struggle between Pauline and Antipauline views of Christianity are clearly discernible here. The parable of the Tares is directed against Paul, who is the enemy that came by night and sowed bad seed in the field.[4] On the other hand, the parable of the Net is Propauline; the capacious net taking in all sorts of fish being intended as a justification for Paul’s two-leaved door of universalism thrown wide open to admit all comers.[5] Surely this is criticism gone mad. The two parables are in perfect accord, and they both bear the stamp of one mind,—the mind of Him who soared above petty party strifes and dwelt habitually in the serene region of Divine wisdom and charity. The spirit of the two parables is the same,—it is the spirit of universalism, not in the controversial sense, but in the sense in which we ascribe that attribute to all Christ’s teaching. The Kingdom of God as Jesus preached it was a kingdom whose blessings were designed for the whole human race. In perfect accord with the whole drift of His teaching is the doctrine contained in these parables. The field is the world, the net is cast into the sea, and the net itself is the largest possible, to be employed for the purposes of a gracious economy by men animated by Christ’s own catholic spirit.
[1] Acts 2:47. The Lord added daily to the community of Christians (
[2]
[3] Mark 16:15.
[4] So Volkmar and Hilgenfeld, also Renan (in ’Les Evangiles,’ p. 273). Keim refers to this opinion with disapproval, vide ’Jesu von Nazara,’ ii. 449.