Tag: Piers Northam
Summer afternoon
Dozing in and out of an open book,
hot-headed in the baking brightness,
sounds coalesce:
Ears buffeted by eddying breezes,
conversations drifting across fencetops,
a lazy wind-chime,
gravel crunch and a distant saw.
The wheeze and hum,
click and whir of hidden insects.
Flies, like far-off squadrons of returning airmen
and the lilting strobe of gaudy wings
on crazy flightpaths.
[Piers Northam]
[a sermon preached by the Revd Piers Northam]
19 July 2026 – Trinity 7
Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43
‘The wheat and the tares’
As the Lectionary takes us through Matthew’s Gospel, we come to the Parable of the Good and Bad Seed – or the Wheat and the Tares. The gardening or farming theme continues – I suspect Jesus could well be a fan of Gardener’s World or Farming Today – so last week we had the Parable of the Sower where the Sower sowed seed extravagantly, broadcasting widely, so that it fell on a variety of different types of ground. In today’s story however, Jesus focuses on the contrast between the good and bad seed; or between the wheat and the tares as some translations have it.
Historically and in biblical texts, a tare is a plant called Poison Darnel (or Lolium temulentum if you’re BBC TV Gardener, Monty Don). The thing about this particular plant is that it grows to look exactly like wheat in its early stages – it’s pretty much indistinguishable – and of course that’s why the Master doesn’t want his servants to pull up the weeds, for in doing so they might pull up the wheat too. And every grain, every seedling is precious to him.
Of course when the disciples later ask for the parable to be unpacked, Jesus explains that the field is the world, the sower is the Son of Man and he refers to the wheat as the children of the kingdom and the tares as the children of the evil one. I have to admit, there’s a part of me that struggles with this, for I think there’s a temptation from this to assume that the world is simply divided into good people and wicked people, with the good ones destined for heaven and the baddies destined for hell. Almost as if there’s no choice or agency in the matter.
But I think it’s a wee bit more complicated than that… For a start the good and the bad are indistinguishable – the tares look just like the wheat: so much so that the workmen in the field would have a hard time telling them apart and might finish by uprooting the wrong ones. What Jesus says is that the moment of sorting and judgement will come later. And anyway, it’s not for us to judge, for there is only One who can judge and who can truly discern what lies in people’s hearts.
There’s a warning here – not to think that we can take a glance at someone and simply write them off as being what we might consider to be a bad seed. I think anyone who’s experienced being marginalised at some point in their lives will have a sense of what it’s like to be on the receiving end of that. Yet of course, in these polarised times, that’s what we’re constantly being encouraged to do, isn’t it? To make judgements about others; to decide whether they’re in or out. And if we don’t like the cut of their jib or the way they think or live their lives, then we’re encouraged to consign them to the fire, pronto. But that’s not what the Lord of the Harvest would have us do. No, he says, let them grow together…
And by the same token, it can be all too seductive to simply assume that we’re the good seed – that somehow, we’ve got it right and that we’re just fine and dandy as we are. But again, I think we’re being invited to look deeper than that.
Because as I pondered further on this story, it seemed to me that both the good and the bad seed can sit within each of us. There are times when the fields of our hearts are full of ripening corn; when they are yielding good fruit for the kingdom. But there are other times when the tares grow up and diminish the potential harvest. When the Evil One gets to us and sullies the crop. When we get seduced or distracted, or pulled away from God.
St Augustine, in a sermon on this parable, puts it rather beautifully:
“Listen, dearest grains of Christ; listen, Christ’s precious ears of wheat; listen, Christ’s dearest corn. Take a look at yourselves, go back to your consciences, interrogate your faith, interrogate your love, stir up your consciences. And if you discover that you are good grain, let the thought occur to you, ‘Whoever perseveres to the end will be saved.’
Any of you who, on shaking up their consciences, finds themselves among the weeds must not be afraid to change. The command hasn’t yet been given to cut, it isn’t the harvest yet; don’t be today what you were yesterday, or at least don’t be tomorrow what you are today.” [1]
‘You must not be afraid to change.’ Augustine is encouraging us to take a good look at ourselves and our motivations; to see where our hearts lie, But he also sees in each of us the possibility to change. For tomorrow comes with a new dawn.
There may be times when we realise that the tares are taking over, but the Good News is that nothing is irredeemable with and through Jesus, for our God is the God of new beginnings and new life; of forgiveness and fresh starts; always ready to plant seed afresh in the fields of our hearts. Perhaps that’s also why letting the two grow together is important – because in God’s economy, tares – through the power of Jesus – can become wheat. There is the potential in all of us; none of us is a lost cause to our Father in heaven.
And finally, (because the more you ponder one of Jesus’ stories, the more viewpoints you discover…) we’ve thought about being the seed, but it’s also worth thinking about what sort of sowing we are doing. How – and what – are we planting into other people’s lives? Are we working for the Son of Man and planting seed that will yield a harvest; wheat with the potential to become the bread of life? Or are we coming by night and sowing bitter tares in others’ fields? When we pass judgement about people and spread negativity we’re sowing those tares; when we close our hearts and our minds to people, we’re sowing those tares. We have to be vigilant to ensure that we’re always planting the good seed.
The raising and nurturing of plants is a long game. Last week our preacher talked about how ‘much of God’s work happens beneath the surface. Seeds spend a long time underground before anyone sees signs of life.’ And she went on to say that
‘God is often working beneath the surface long before we can see the results. […] Our role is to cooperate. […] Every act of kindness is tending the seed. Every prayer is watering the seed. Every act of hospitality is nourishing the seed. […] we are cultivating the ground where God is already at work.’ [2]
Jesus calls us to sow good seed in our own lives and the lives of those around us; to beware being seduced by the Evil One into planting bitter tares; and to leave the final judgement to Him.
Amen.
[1] St Augustine – Sermon 73A on the Parable of the Wheat and the Tares
[2] Rachel Griffiths – sermon preached on the Parable of the Sower – St Mary-at-Latton 12 July 2026
Piers Northam teaches Interior Design at the Inchbald School of Design, London.
He is priest in The Church Of England and particularly serves at St Mary-at Latton- Harlow.
[Based on a sermon by Piers Northam and adapted and added to by Mr G.]
This week we, in the United Kingdom and the British Commonwealth, have commemorated the Anniversary of the Birth of Queen Elizabeth II (our longest reigning Monarch) who would have celebrated her Centenary on April 21st.
She died in 2022.
At the time of her death, our present King – Charles III – wrote:
‘The death of my beloved Mother, Her Majesty The Queen, is a moment of the greatest sadness for me and all members of my family. We mourn profoundly the passing of a cherished Sovereign and a much-loved Mother. I know her loss will be deeply felt throughout the country, the Realms and the Commonwealth, and by countless people around the world.’
In his message we can note a holding together of the two things: the personal and the shared. The Royal Family were mourning a mother, grandmother, great-grandmother; and we as a Nation were mourning the death of our Sovereign – who for many of us at the time was the only one we’ve ever known – but one with whom so many of us feel a strong, personal connection.
At the Platinum Jubilee, just before her death, the then Prince Charles began his speech ‘Your Majesty… Mummy…’ to huge applause. For Queen Elizabeth inhabited both those roles and in so doing, she became the person who drew us together as a worldwide family – through national ties, but also through ties across the Commonwealth and beyond. She inspired love and that drew people of all races, colours, creeds and classes together. This was her gift and, in her way, she made possible a drawing together of people.
She not only brought people together but also, through her historic ancestry was a link with many previous generations. She had clearly defined links to Queen Victoria and further back to Margaret of Scotland – the sister of Henry VIII. Her bloodline was well established.
It brought with it a right to rule but this right was tied with both responsibility and accountability.
No one, with power to govern, either elected or inherited, can avoid accountability which defines how they act and how that action is carried out in service for others.
This is very important in our present day when some world leaders are wielding power for their own ends and with no real sense of care for others.
Queen Elizabeth did not rely on right or might. What defined her was not bloodline, but rather, loveline.
For Queen Elizabeth the Loveline had its roots in God and in an Almighty Love which has a global outreach – and one that extends beyond humanity to all of Creation.
Queen Elizabeth gladly accepted that God’s love is for each and every one of us, his beloved children who, through Jesus are drawn into a global and eternal family of love.
She expressed this in terms of a belonging together as a community under God, remembering that community is about holding our world in a common unity. Her Majesty, in her Christmas broadcasts, clearly proclaimed her belief in the importance of community: In 2001 she said this:
‘I believe that strong and open communities matter both in good times as well as in bad. Certainly they provide a way of helping one another. Communities also give us an important sense of belonging which is a compelling need in all of us. We all enjoy moments of great happiness and suffer times of profound sadness; the happiness is heightened, the sadness softened when it is shared. But there is more than that. A sense of belonging to a group, which has in common the same desire for a fair and ordered society, helps to overcome differences and misunderstanding by reducing prejudice, ignorance and fear. We all have something to learn from one another, whatever our faith… whatever our background, whether we be young or old.’
But her understanding went further than that, as she said in 2007:
Jesus of Nazareth reached out and made friends with people whom others ignored or despised. It was in this way that he proclaimed his belief that, in the end, we are all brothers and sisters in one human family.
Our humanity alongside our responsibility for the Care of all Creation is rooted and grounded in Love which flows from the Love of God.
For Queen Elizabeth this became an essential part of her loveline which she expressed in two ways.
One is that she had a deep interest and love for people. At an individual level, so many have talked of how when they met her, she paid them her full attention; really listening to them; entirely focused on them during their exchange. There is that sense that in so doing, she honoured their identity, openly and without judgement.
The other theme is the way that at a national and international level, she was able to draw us together; to point to something bigger than our own private concerns. Her ability to forge a connection with us; to show her love and care and concern for us in that long life of service – service to the Nation, the Commonwealth and the wider global community;– helped us to feel that vital sense of connection to each other; helped us to see beyond ourselves and give us a sense of belonging.
In our deeply fragmented world both internationally and locally, we need to take those words, which are the essence of who Elizabeth was, and cherish them deeply in our own hearts.
All this sprang from her profound faith and trust in God.
This must be something we seek for our own lives and what we should expect and demand from others. Not least from those in leadership who act in ungodly ways whilst pretending to believe they have some kind of Divine right to behave as they do! Not least those who have the temerity to believe they might have some claim to a Godliness which couldn’t be further from the truth.
Reflection on the Saints, their actions, prayers and faith has always been an helpful way of shaping our own lives and souls. Queen Elizabeth lived a saintly life (indeed, for me she is a worthy candidate for for Canonization!) and as we seek a way out of the present morass of our world, we would do well to ponder on her example, values and faith.
Here’s how we may set about doing it:
So, here’s a blessing prayer which was a favourite one of Queen Elizabeth’s.
Go forth into the world in peace;
be of good courage;
hold fast that which is good;
render to no one evil for evil;
strengthen the fainthearted;
support the weak;
help the afflicted;
honour all people;
love and serve the Lord,
rejoicing in the power of the Holy Spirit.
Amen.
{Piers Northam &Mr G 22nd April 2026}
A poem for Good Friday by Piers Northam
Standing near
Their eyes never leave you,
together confronting the agony
as you are pinioned to the cross
and crucified.
Three long hours.
Their presence is unwavering,
their gaze unflinching,
though a sword pierces
their own anguished hearts.
Among them, the one
who endured the agonies
of bringing you into the world:
who cradled the infant you.
Now you are held in her gaze,
her eyes fixed on you
as she stands close by.
Soon she will cradle
your stiffening, lifeless body.
Where others have faltered and fled,
these are the ones who remain,
their presence, all that is left to give:
a wilful resistance,
a faithful standing by,
a harrowing witness.
Here, at the foot of the cross,
is true strength,
true devotion:
a love that is unsparing
and never turns away…
Passiontide 2026
Piers Northam.
Mr G's Ponderings 