19th July, 2020.
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My dear friends,

I found it strangely moving on Friday to see Captain Sir Tom Moore, aged 100, receive his knighthood from Her Majesty The Queen in the courtyard at Windsor Castle and afterwards pose for photographs with his family, proudly holding his richly-deserved insignia as a Knight Bachelor (a Knight Bachelor is a type of knighthood in the United Kingdom and means that Sir Tom is a knight, but without being a member of an Order of chivalry – it doesn’t mean he is an unmarried knight!). Sir Tom raised nearly £33 million for the National Health Service during the present Coronavirus pandemic by completing 100 sponsored walks – one for each year of his age – in his garden with his wheeled walking frame.
 
The Coronavirus pandemic has brought out the worst in some selfish people; but I suspect that they are very much a minority. It seems to me that it has brought out the best in many millions more people. I have been very humbled by some of the stories of altruism that have emerged. In Bergamo, northern Italy, where the pandemic was very bad, an old priest with Coronavirus told a hospital doctor ‘No, don’t give me the respirator’ (there wasn’t enough hospital equipment to go round), ‘I am an old man – give it to someone younger with their life ahead of them.’ The old priest, sad to relate, died a few days afterwards; but who can doubt that in his last actions, he preached the finest sermon of his ministry.
 
In our own country, we continue to hear moving stories of members of St John Ambulance quietly getting on with the practical work of helping Coronavirus patients and supporting their families: all unsung heroes. If I had my way, I’d make you all Knights Bachelor in recognition of your self-sacrificial work; but instead, do please know that your fellow members of St John are immensely proud of you, and that tens of thousands of Coronavirus patients across the country are deeply grateful to you for all you have done for them and their families – and will remain grateful to you for the rest of their lives.

With continued prayers and kindest regards,

The Rev. Dr ROBERT BEAKEN, County Chaplain
TRINITY 6 – 19th JULY 2020.
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I said last week that Jesus frequently used images from the countryside and from agriculture to make deep spiritual points. We have another example today: what is known as the parable of the Wheat and Tares. In this story, a farmer sowed his field with good seed. While he was asleep, an enemy came and scattered seeds of tares, or weeds, all over the field. When it germinated, the farm labourers – who had sown the original seed and knew it to be good – were in despair. They could see fine wheat, all jumbled up with the nasty weeds, which might choke it.
            They told the farmer, who immediately realised that some enemy had sown weeds in amongst his crop. The labourers offered to go into the field and pluck out all the weeds. ‘No,’ replied the farmer, ‘don’t do that, you might tread on the growing wheat and crush it. Let both of them grow together, side by side. Then, at Harvest time, gather the weeds and burn them, and gather the wheat and put it into my barn.’

Jesus speaks often in the Gospels about the end of the world and the Day of Judgement – in fact, I think he speaks more about this than about any other topic. 
Each day of our lives, God is making a provisional assessment of us. How have we lived this day? Then, at the end, comes the Day of Judgement – symbolised in the parable by the harvest. This is no longer a daily assessment, but rather is a final Judgement, a summing up by Jesus Christ, the Most Just Judge, of us as individuals and of the world, and human society and history, as a whole. Those who in faith have prayed ‘Thy will be done’ and have sincerely meant it, will be gathered into God’s barns. Those who have pursued paths of evil, all who have wilfully rejected God, will be burnt like the weeds.  It is important to stress that we know from Jesus that God is merciful. He will not reject anyone who does not reject Him. But God is also just; and we can’t pull the wool over His eyes.

We find the parable of the Wheat and Tares and this message of God’s judgement reflected in the well-known Harvest hymn, ‘Come, ye thankful people, come’:
 
All the world is God’s own field,
Fruit unto his praise to yield;
Wheat and tares together sown,
Unto joy or sorrow grown ...
 
For the Lord our God shall come,
And shall take his harvest home;
From his field shall purge away
All that doth offend that day;
Give his angels charge at last
In the fire his tares to cast,
But the fruitful ears to store
In his garner evermore.
 
            I’d like to suggest for a moment that there is a second layer of meaning woven into the parable of the Wheat and the Tares. If we look at the text carefully, we see that this is not just about Judgement, or sin, or the human condition – although all of those come into it. In verse 24 Jesus says: ‘The kingdom of heaven may be compared to someone who sowed good seed in his field.’ The parable, then, is a reflection on the kingdom of heaven. In St Luke’s Gospel, we recall, Jesus said ‘the kingdom of God is within you.’

Heaven is where – please God – we shall end up after bodily death and the Day of Judgement. But Jesus points out that we each have a small bit of heaven – the divine spark, if you like – inside us throughout our time on earth.

            One could say that the parable of the Wheat and the Tares is really about the final harvest of our lives. The field and the crop symbolise you and me. Just as in the story the farmer planted good seed in the field, so God plants good seed in us – the Good News of Jesus Christ – and in this way we come to have a little of the kingdom of God inside us.

            But there is also sin, symbolised by the weeds. Because of the Fall and Original Sin, all our of lives are affected by temptation and sin. Practically speaking, this means that all men and women are a great mixture of good and bad. We find that we seek after God – and then a few minutes later we go off in the opposite direction and commit sin. As Christians, we soldier on, sinning, repenting, being all right for a bit, then sinning once more, repenting again – with some progress, and many a slip – all through our time on planet earth.

            The parable, then, may be seen as a message about God’s patience and love. God did not allow the labourers to try to pluck the weeds out of the field, in case they inadvertently plucked out the wheat. It was all sorted out at the harvest.

            I like to think of God as being like an earthly parent: patient with His children, forgiving them, making allowances for them, understanding that they will not always be screaming toddlers or awkward teenagers, but that they are on a journey, and a very precious and important journey. They need love, forbearance, patience, encouragement. God knows us better than we know ourselves. He knows the many times when we have wanted to do one thing, but have ended up doing something else. He understands the secret longing for Him in all of our hearts.

            Perhaps there is also a point here about us learning to be forbearing and loving towards ourselves.

            I once knew a lovely old Anglican nun at Ditchingham, Sister Winifrid, who said one day: ‘We must be cheerful sinners – Oops! That didn’t come out the way I meant it to!’ I knew exactly what she meant.

Just as the farmer was patient with the field of wheat and tares, Jesus tells us, so God is patient and loving with all and each of us. He loves us with a love beyond our imagining. And at the end, in His great love, He will sort out everything for the best. As Sister Winifrid said, with such Christian hope in our hearts, We must be cheerful sinners.