San Williams, Presenter

 Luke 13:1-9

"There's Still Time"

Last Tuesday morning as people were gathering to receive food and monetary assistance here at UPC, I watched a beat-up van pull up in front of our church.  I could see the driver was in a wheel chair. It took him a few minutes to unsnap the chair from its position at the steering wheel. The doors to the van slowly swung open and a metal ramp began to lower to the pavement.  When all was in place, he exited the van, wheeled around, hit some more levers that raised the ramp and closed the doors. Then he pointed his chair in the direction of our fellowship hall where he was coming to get a few groceries from our pantry.  As I watched his tedious maneuvers, a sleek sedan pull up on the other side of the street.  A young man hopped out, slung his backpack over his shoulder, hit the lock button on his key pad and sprinted off toward the drag. Why do some people seem to have so much going for them while others struggle with the most basic tasks?  Do the struggles of the disabled, the unlucky, the destitute and the disadvantaged indicate some disfavor with God, while prosperous, able-bodied, fortunate folk represent God's blessing?  Well, this is an age old question, and one that Jesus was asked to address. His answer isn't the one his listeners expected to hear, but it is the one we all need to hear.  

Here's the question.  How do we make sense of human suffering?  Last week thirty some odd Iraqis were murdered at a book fair in Baghdad when a suicide bomber crashed into the book stalls, setting off a deadly explosion. Mothers, children, students and others had likely come to the book market hoping to find a book, a story, maybe a poem, that might help distract their minds from the violence all around them.  Yet instead of finding solace, they were met with deadly violence. Sadly, such tragedies are happening almost daily.

Or recall the recent tornadoes that ripped through Alabama.  Standing in front of a pile of rubble that used to be their home, a distraught family asks, "Why did this happen to us?."  Meanwhile the family next door, their house unscathed, exclaims, "It's a miracle. God has spared us." Is there some explanation for why misfortune strikes some and spares others?

Well, that's exactly what the people who sought out Jesus wanted to know.  Jesus was asked to comment on two recent tragedies.  One was the murder of innocent Jews who had come to the Temple to worship only to be slain by some of Pilate's soldiers. Such a tragedy must have been  especially wrenching, because not only were the victims innocent, but apparently they were faithful church-goers as well.  The other incident reported to Jesus was the collapse of a tower in Siloam that killed eighteen passers by who, by all appearances, just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Or, as some people speculated, did these people get crushed because they were worse sinners than those who were spared?

Now behind this inquiry is a commonly held assumption among Jesus' contemporaries that goodness is rewarded by  health, good fortune and wealth, while wickedness is punished by all kinds of suffering.  Such an assumption is embedded in scripture.  "Blessed are those who delight in the law of the Lord," begins the Book of Psalms, "in all that they do, they prosper.  But the wicked are…like chaff that the wind drives away…they will perish."   Not surprisingly, most folks in Jesus' day believed that the lepers, the poor, the crippled beggars must be receiving punishment for some sin or wickedness on their part.  In ancient times, as in our present day, when there is some great tragedy, some calamity or personal misfortune, people will try to figure out what happened, and what to make  of it. Thus, it was a very natural thing for the people to ask Jesus whether those who suffer misfortune aren't simply getting what they deserve? 

And to that question Jesus gives a categorical, final answer:  "No!"  Jesus rejects outright the assumption that misfortune is always a consequence of wrongdoing.  Without equivocation, Jesus denies any easy connection between sin and suffering. In fact, Jesus' entire ministry was a protest against this assumption.  He befriended sinners, preached good news to the poor, blessed the lepers and declared God's favor upon all those who were oppressed and burdened.  The fact that Jesus himself suffered grave misfortune should have buried forever the connection that those who suffer are the worst of sinners. To such a notion, Jesus gives a resounding, "No!"

But before the crowd can walk away with their question unanswered and their lives unchanged, Jesus stops them in their tracks.  He says to them, "Unless you repent, you too will perish."   Jesus has an uncanny way of taking a theoretical question and shooting it like an arrow back into the listener's heart.  Admittedly, this word, "repent" carries a lot of baggage for us moderns making it difficult to appropriate.  Please note that Jesus' warning has nothing of the admonition:  "Straighten up or God is going to get you."   It's not even the case that God is going to turn away from us. God's won't.  Still, there's a clear urgency in Jesus' words.  Repentance, Jesus implies, is a matter of life and death.

Last Wednesday evening I happened to catch King Abdullah of Jordan being interviewed by Jim Lehrer on The News Hour.  The King is making an urgent appeal to the United States, the moderate Arab countries, the Palestinians and Israelis to turn quickly, without further delay, to a peaceful solution in the Middle East. The King believes we're at a cross-roads and that time is running out.  If we don't solve this core issue between the Palestinians and Israelis, the Middle East, he believes the region will slide into the abyss of darkness, and will experience decades of unending turmoil, chaos and death. The sense of urgency in his warning about the consequences of continuing on the present course opens a kind of window into the meaning of Jesus' call for repentance.

"Unless you repent," says Jesus, "you too will perish."  Our well-being and the well-being of  the world depends on repentance—turning away for all that destroy life and turning toward God, neighbor and nature in a bond of loving communion. This morning we baptized Celeste into this life of loving communion. This is the life into which we have all been baptized.  Repentance, then, is our continual turning toward the fulfillment of our baptism—lives lived in love of God and neighbor.  So you see, repentance isn't an option; it's an urgent necessity. 

Yet after issuing such a stern warning, Jesus tells a parable about God's patience. Jesus tells about a man who planted a fig tree in hi vineyard.  In the vineyards of Jesus ' day, a fig tree required three years to bear fruit. Yet this tree had been in the garden for six years now. It was hopelessly barren.  Human logic would say, "Cut it down."  It's simply taking up space and depleting valuable nutrient from the soil without producing any fruit.  But God's ways are not our ways.  God's patience goes way beyond human reason. So the gardener said to the man, "Don't cut it down yet.  Give me yet another year.  I'll dig around it and fertilize it one more time.  May then it will bear fruit. God, Jesus teaches, is exceedingly patient.

Friends, like those first followers of Jesus we  come to God with our questions of why. Why do bad things happen to good people?  Why do the innocent suffer?  If there is an explanation to make sense out of why things happen to people the way they do, Jesus doesn't reveal it. Instead he invites--no, he implores!-- us to repent:  To renew our relationship to God, to heal our relationships with our neighbors, and to live in harmony with all God's creation. 

The good news is that there is still time to repent Who knows?  Tomorrow may be too late, but as of this moment, there's still time. So come to Christ's Table this morning and an act of repentance. Leave behind all that separates you  from God and your neighbor.  Come and receive the life Jesus came to give us--life lived in loving communion with God, neighbor, and all creation.