3 Lent C
Luke 13:1-9
Jesus said; “I tell you, unless you repent,
you will all perish,” and, “Let the fig tree alone for one more year,
and let me care for it.” In these two statements, we are given the
essential character of the season of Lent. Lent is a time of repentance. Lent
is the promise of second chances. Today’s gospel text may be the perfect Lenten
text, in that it both calls us to repentance, and reminds us of the second
chance that God so graciously offers us.
Jesus begins his teaching today by relating
two stories about tragic, undeserved suffering. The first recalls a massacre by
the bloodthirsty Pontius Pilate. Apparently, Pilate ordered the murder of some
Galilean worshipers who had come to make sacrifices at the
The
second example that Jesus uses is about a construction accident. Eighteen
workers were killed when the tower they were working on suddenly collapsed,
burying them in the rubble. These examples sound eerily familiar and
contemporary.
The news is full of stories about innocent
people being killed by corrupt regimes around the world—in
At the time of Jesus, people thought they
knew why. There was no such thing as “innocent” or “undeserved” suffering. If
you got killed or terribly ill, it was because you must have done something to
deserve it. Suffering and death was seen as the justified punishment for sin.
Now in a way, this is a tidy explanation for
suffering. It provides an easy explanation for why bad things happen to seemingly
good people. They must not have been good enough. But it also causes some
problems. All of us can name someone in our lives who has suffered, maybe even
died, who certainly didn’t “deserve” it. And it’s a problem as far as our image
of God goes as well. Suffering as punishment for sin portrays God as a
vengeful, punishing God, who I certainly wouldn’t want to worship. And so Jesus
corrects the notion of suffering as punishment for sin.
“Listen,” he says, “Were
those Galileans that Pilate slaughtered or those who were killed in the tower
accident any worse sinners than the rest of you?” Everyone sins and
falls short of the mark. In other words, if God were to punish everyone
according to their sin, there wouldn’t be anyone left to talk about it!
And then Jesus goes on to issue a warning, “But
I tell you, unless you repent, you will also perish just as they did.” Now
by “perish”, Jesus doesn’t necessarily mean that those who don’t repent will
suffer some horrible calamity in this life. He is referring to what will happen
in the next life. The souls of the unrepentant will perish, as they endure
eternal separation from God. And so we are invited to repent, to return to God,
who is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love.
Lent is offered to us as a time of
repentance, and I’d like to describe for you the steps to repentance. The first
step, of course, is to acknowledge our own sin. This first step may be the
hardest one, because none of us wants to admit our personal failings. Out
culture encourages us to do just the opposite—to always present ourselves in
the best light, if we hope to get ahead in the world. So repentance is a
counter-cultural act, beginning with the recognition of our own sin.
The second step is confession—before God,
and before one another. That is why we include the Order for Confession and
Forgiveness in worship during Lent. We confess our sin before God, and before
the Christian community, in which we hold one another accountable.
The final step in repentance defines what
the word means in the Greek language from which it comes; to repent literally
means to turn around—to turn away from our sin, and walk in a new direction.
Acknowledgement of our sin, confession of
sin, and turning away from sin are the steps to repentance. By repeating these
three steps, over and over again throughout our lives, we are led, at last, to
the new life that Jesus promised, in the arms of our loving Father.
That’s what the first part of today’s gospel
teaches us. In the second part, Jesus tells a story—a parable, to illustrate
the mercy of God, and to teach us that we need not fear repenting to such a
God. We call it “The Parable of the Fig Tree.”
In the parable, the owner of a vineyard
comes to check up on a fig tree that he had planted there. For three years he’s
been looking to the tree to produce fruit, but so far, it hasn’t. The landowner
is fed-up. He says to the gardener, “That’s it. I’ve had it. It’s wasting the
soil in which it is planted. Cut it down.” To which the patient and
merciful gardener replies, “Sir, let it alone for one more year, until
I dig around it and put manure on it. If it bears fruit next year, well and
good; but if not, you can cut it down.”
Here is a picture of our patient and merciful
God, giving us a second chance. God is saying, “Nothing is beyond redemption.
With my love and care, even a barren fig tree can bear fruit. I will fertilize
it and nurture it—give it another year, another chance to bear fruit. For that
is what I created it to do.”
That is what each of us has been created to
do—despite our selfishness and proclivity to sin—to bear fruit for the Kingdom
of God. But what kind of fruit?
It might be helpful here to note that in the
Parable of the Fig Tree, Jesus is not demanding the fig tree to produce
something that it cannot produce. A fig tree is not capable of producing
bananas, nor is it expected to. He doesn’t expect the fig tree to grow as tall
as an oak or be as fragrant as a cedar. He is only asking it to be what it is,
to do what it ought—produce figs.
And so it is with each of us. Some of us
have beautiful singing voices. Some are artists, or are good with numbers. Some
are good with people, or know how to measure and cut and hammer a nail. Each of
us has our own unique God-given gifts. And the miracle that happens is that
through repentance and forgiveness, those gifts are released for the good of
the Kingdom of God.
Today at Martha and Mary, deep in the season
of Lent, we celebrate our Heritage Sunday, a recognition of forty years of
ministry in this place. In light of Jesus’ parable of the fig tree, I ask you
to consider this, “What kind of tree are we? What kind of fruit were we created to
produce?” It is a question that each of us as individuals might ask
ourselves as well. Remember, all that God asks of us is that we produce the
fruit that we were designed to produce. Fig trees are not expected to produce
bananas.
What kind of tree is the Lutheran Church of
Martha and Mary? Well, we’re not a huge tree, nor do I think we were created to
be. Displayed in our historical archives are architectural plans for an enormous
sanctuary extending out towards Golf Road. That hasn’t happened yet, nor do I
expect it will. I do not think that we were created to be a mega-church. But
that is not a failure. Our success as a church will not be measured by size,
because that may not be what we were created to be. Fig trees are not expected
to produce bananas, and neither are we.
What kind of fruit has this church borne? What
kind of tree might represent us? In keeping with Jesus’ Parable of the Fig
Tree, I did a little research. Here’s what I found out.
The Fig Tree is a member of the Ficus
family. If you’ve ever had a Ficus tree in your home, you’ve had a fig—although
it probably didn’t produce fruit. Fig trees are native to the Mediterranean,
but can be cultivated world-wide, if given proper care. Fig trees don’t get
very big. Most are three to four feet in height, but are very long lived. Figs
have historically been a major food of the Middle East, because they can be
easily dried and stored. Their value might not be appreciated until they are
needed in times of want. Figs are very sweet, and contain a large number of
seeds.
Over the past forty years at Martha and Mary,
we have experienced the sweet, sweet, love of God in this place. And many, many
seeds have been planted. However, not all of them have fallen close to the tree,
as we might wish. Many have been dispersed into the world, and while we cannot
see what fruit they have produced, that too, is a success.
We have not become huge, but like the fig
tree, have proven to be sturdy and long lived. We are an intimate community,
called to invite others to experience the intimate love of God.
Thanks be to God for the blessings of these
past forty years. And may God continue to bless us, as we move into the future,
bearing the fruit for which we were created. AMEN