Lent 3C
March 23, 2025
Luke 13:1-9
INTRODUCTION
“Repent or perish.” This is the heading you will see if you look up today’s Gospel reading in your Bible. It is not the most comfortable message for us to hear, yet here we are, halfway through Lent, and we are told today in no uncertain terms that it is an important one. Repent or perish.
If you don’t like that message, you might be drawn, as I am, to some of the more comforting images in the readings we’re about to hear. Isaiah offers an abundant feast, freely given by a gracious God. He is speaking to the Israelites who have been in exile for 70 years, and now are finally returning home. The Psalm reflects in beautiful poetry on finding sustenance and safety in the shadow of God’s wings – not unlike the mother hen image for God that we heard last week. Paul reminds us in Corinthians of all the times God has brought God’s people safely through danger, adding that “God is faithful!” Yes, these are all images I prefer!
And yet in each of these readings, we will also hear that same refrain: repent or perish. Turn away from that which does not give life, and turn toward that which does: that same faithful, comforting, sheltering, providing God. So as tempting as it may be to listen for just the most comforting images, I urge you as you listen today, to listen for that “repent or perish” theme, the words in Scripture that are urging us not to stay the way we are, but to change our ways so that we might have life. Let’s listen.
[READ]
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord and Savior and Jesus Christ. Amen.
There is certainly no shortage of devastating headlines in the news. This past Tuesday was, I read, the deadliest day yet in the war in Gaza – more than 400 people killed. In other news, according to internal USAID memos, recent cuts to these programs will result in millions of deaths every year due to lack of access to vaccinations and life-saving treatment, not to mention starvation. Already over 25,000 have died as a result of these cuts. So much tragedy.
So let me ask you this: do you think these people suffered and died because they were worse offenders than anyone else living in Gaza, or Africa, or the world?
I hope this question horrifies you, as it does me! It horrifies me when modern commentators use this logic to explain why a hurricane struck where it did, or why a mass shooting happened, or why a woman was assaulted. “They must have been worse sinners than the rest of us.” Neat and tidy, right? But also icky. I’m grateful Jesus swiftly shoots it down, when applying it to a couple of local tragedies in his own context. No, he tells us, people do not suffer and die as divine punishment for wrong-doing.
But.
Yes, Jesus had to include a “but,” so don’t get too comfortable just yet. “But, unless you repent, you will suffer as they did.” It seems to contradict what he just said, right?
You know that feeling you get when you stretch a sore muscle and it just hurts so good? That is how I feel reading today’s Gospel reading. It is so convicting, and yet strangely comforting, because I know it is pushing us in a direction that feels stiff and painful, but we know is so good for us. Let’s break this down a little bit and see how we can make this stretch one that prevents, rather than causes, injury.
First thing to know is that this passage comes at the end of a cascade of teachings about the urgency of the coming dawn of God’s kingdom. It’s a rhetorical tactic, like, "To what shall I compare the urgency of repentance as we look toward the dawn of a new era? It’s like this… and like this… and like this.” Each one of these illustrations, which begin early in the previous chapter, shows us a piece of the story, but are really meant to be taken as a whole, like a painting. His culminating image is to use these two recent tragedies as illustrations of the urgency of repentance, as if to say, “Life is short, and precious, and there is no time to waste. Repent now, change your ways, before it is too late.”
Second: it is easy, as I pointed out before, to hear Jesus’ “but” as a direct contradiction to what he said before, that is, that these people’s suffering was not divine punishment. But really, what he is saying here is, “The way you are living, the path you are walking, is not the path that leads to life. So don’t continue down that path. Repent, change direction, and do it now, or you will perish having never known the fullness of life with God.” You see, when we are living lives that are marked not by love and justice, but rather by greed and self-preservation and pride and any number of other sins, we are already suffering. That life is not true life. Instead, Jesus says, live a life that seeks the values of God’s kingdom, that bears fruits of love, justice, and compassion.
Which brings us to this funny little parable about the fig tree. This tree, planted in a vineyard, is not bearing fruit, to the great discouragement of the landowner. The owner accuses it of being an inefficient use of soil and resources, a waste, and he suggests taking a chainsaw to the thing and cutting it down completely. But the gardener sees its potential. “No,” he urges, “I think this tree can do better. Let’s take a look at what it needs to improve, let’s give it the attention and nourishment it needs, and see if we can help it to bear fruit. Give it a little more time, and we’ll re-evaluate in a year.”
There is grace in this plea. It is not too late for the tree. The tree still has time; it can yet bear fruit. But there is also urgency: it can do better, but there is not a moment to waste. As John the Baptist said back at the beginning of Luke’s gospel, “Even now, the ax is lying at the root of the trees; therefore every tree that does not bear good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire.” (Luke 3:9)
You see, Luke has been clear from the beginning of the story that while God is gracious and merciful, and Jesus is the Savior of the world, this does not give us a pass on living fruitful lives, lives that serve the needy and vulnerable among us. When we live lives of greed, pride, complacency and indifference, not only do we suffer, but the world suffers. This is not a path that brings life. When we bear fruit, then we see God’s kingdom in action – not only in some afterlife, but here and now. Luke’s Gospel is especially insistent that God’s salvation is happening here and now, in this world and this life, and that we are a part of it.
So what does it mean, then, to bear fruit? How does that look in today’s world?
The fig tree can teach us about this. The first lesson the fig tree can teach us is to grow where we are planted. Did you notice that this fig tree is planted in a vineyard? So it is surrounded by plants very different from itself. And of course, a fig tree, which has a deep and complex root system, cannot easily be dug up and moved; it must grow in the spot where it finds itself. So we, too, must grow where we are planted. The fig tree teaches us, to look out at the world around us: what are the needs you see? Where in your proximity is in need of the fruit of the spirit – love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control? Look around, and see the need that is there.
The second lesson from the fig tree is: bear fruit according to who you are. The fig tree is surrounded by grapes, but it cannot grow grapes. It grows figs. What fruit are you uniquely able to grow? What gifts do you bring that can meet the needs you see in the world around you? I read this week that sometimes fig trees are planted in vineyards as protection from birds. The birds are drawn to the larger fruit of the figs, and they leave the more delicate grapes alone. Fig trees also sometimes can be used as a sort of trellis to support the grape vines, offering them literal support. In both cases, the fig tree is able to protect, keep safe, and support the more vulnerable. That is the fruit it bears. What fruit can you bear? What can that fruit offer to the needs of the world? If you aren’t sure, pray about it, and ask the people who know you best: “What are the particular gifts you see in me, that could serve the needs of the world around me? What fruit can I bear, in this time and place?”
Now, deep down, I suspect you already know what fruit God uniquely created you to bear. But perhaps something has kept you from it. And this is the third lesson the fig tree can teach us. The tree was unable to bear fruit because it lacked the proper nourishment. The wise gardener knew that a tree that doesn’t bear fruit is lacking what it needs to thrive. It prompts the question: what is keeping you from bearing fruit? Are you feeling inadequately nourished in body or spirit? What do you need, in order to serve the world with your gifts? How can you get that? Will it come from time with God, in prayer or scripture study? Will it come from intentional, restorative rest? Will it come from turning your anxiety into action, shaking off your malaise by putting boots on the ground and making a concrete difference? I suggest starting with prayer, and discerning what it is that would keep you from bearing the fruit you know you are, with God’s help, capable of bearing. And then, go to the Divine Gardener to find what you need in order to be nourished for the work of the kingdom.
Whatever it is: do not delay! Now is the time to repent, to change our direction – away from apathy, or greed, or selfishness, or despair, and toward the way that bears the fruits of love, justice, and compassion. The situation is urgent, and while we are not yet out of time, “the ax is lying at the root of the tree,” and there is no time to waste.
We were created to bear fruit, my friends: to take an active part in God’s redemption of our broken world; to turn off of the paths that lead to corrosion and death; to orient ourselves instead toward faithfulness, restoration, and life. Let’s do it now!
Let us pray… Divine Gardener, you have planted us with intention. Help us to bear the fruit you know we can, fruit that will serve those in need, that will help to redeem our aching world, all for your love’s sake. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment