Dr. Babcock! Yes, the very same person I mentioned in one of my sermons in August (and I don’t often mention persons in my sermons). Dr. Babcock, the Biology professor at Eastern Nazarene College. I had no love for Dr. Babcock. (Oh, my brother Ed liked him, but he was a biology major. So what would you expect?) Dr. Babcock saw it as his mission in life to “weed out” the biologically challenged from his course. By the time I got done with Biology 101, I thought he would have placed a handicapped parking sign on my desk. I did not so much pass Biology 101 as escaped it. My feelings were shared by the majority of students whose GPA’s went south in biology.

Eastern Nazarene College is a small campus in Quincy, Massachusetts. There are not many students, and staff are so rare as to be considered endangered species. If a professor could do more than one thing, he or she was hired. So it was that Dr. Babcock, intimately acquainted with flora and fauna of all varieties, was put in charge of landscaping for the campus. He did a marvelous job, and took great pride in his efforts. So much so that both students and faculty feared for their safety if they tread upon, plucked, looked sideways at or demeaned his flowers in any way. But there were limits.

One Saturday morning during exam week, Dr. Babcock took it upon himself to landscape beside the mens’ dormitory. Generally that would be a good thing, except that he chose 6:00 a.m. to commence, and whatever it was he commenced required a large chain saw. Those of us who protested from above noticed an evil smile on his face as he ignored our entreaties. He had it all figured out. Most of us would be gone in a week, and he himself would soon leave for field expeditions in the Adirondacks. But he was not as clever as he thought.

Woody Badoud and I would remain on campus for the summer. We were life-long friends, and we knew mischief long before the administrators at Eastern Nazarene College realized they had made a terrible mistake enrolling us together. We had already taken Biology 101, were upper-classmen, and we would repay Dr. Babcock.

As planned, Dr. Babcock left for the Adirondacks. And as planned, Woody and I sneaked out one night to invade his flower beds. As we went, we planted sunflower seeds among the bulbs and seedlings. Then, as the well ordered gardens began to bloom with spectacular precision and symmetry, sunflowers would appear all gangly and conspicuous. The administration thought that Dr. Babcock had lost his mind, but no one dared to touch his gardens. When he returned at the end of summer, large yellow disks rose above his rhododendrons and leered at him. He knew he’d been had, and to his credit, he laughed.

I understand Jesus’ parable of the wheat and the tares. After all, I was the enemy sowing the stuff. We all want to be the farmer’s field hands and act abhorred at someone else’s mischief. But tares aren’t just sown by enemies. We can snag weed seeds on the way to the fields and carelessly shake them off as we work. Or we can point out weeds that others have sown to divert attention from our own. But weeds are weeds, even if they’re flowers. Once the stuff starts to grow, there’s no hiding it.

Dr. Babcock never did find out who sabotaged his gardens, but God knows. God also knows how to keep the good stuff and get rid of the bad. So while you’re out in the Master’s field, make sure what you sow is certified. Because if you plant it, it will grow.

Rev. Dennis P. Levin