Luke 13:1-9

March 7, 2010

“ARE YOU BEARING FRUIT OR JUST TAKING UP SPACE?“

            It was like a recounting of the six o’clock news.  Jesus knew these current events were fresh in the minds of the disciples.  We don’t know details in 2010, but it seems obvious that, for some reason, Pilate had decided to butcher innocent Galileans who were in the midst of worship in the Temple. Their blood had been intermingled with that of the animal sacrifices, and it must have caused quite a stir among the people.  Pilate was known for his terrorist-type attacks.  There had also been a natural disaster when part of a tower attached to the wall that surrounded Jerusalem collapsed.  Eighteen bystanders below had been crushed and buried in the rubble.  As Jesus recounted those two events, he saw heads shake.  He saw furrowed brows.  He saw folks who kept searching for reasons, logic, as to why the innocent have to experience tragedy.  Why them and not others?  Why them and not me?

            It was common in Jesus’ day for people to believe that suffering always had a cause, and the cause came from sin, either from the victim or someone related to the victim.  So, in the Gospel story when Jesus healed the man who had been born blind, the first question the disciples asked was, “Who sinned, this man or his parents?”  Somebody must have sinned!  Why else was the man born blind?

            You and I might offer a crooked smile at the disciples’ question and suggest that those in Jesus’ day had a primitive understanding of the causes of suffering.  Oh, but wait!  When it is you or I who are in the midst of suffering, what keeps us from thinking if not saying, “What have I done to deserve this?”  “Is this punishment?  Why me instead of all those criminals who have sinned twice as much as I?”

            For some reason we are not content with simply saying, “suffering just is.”  We need reasons.  We need answers so that we can somehow be in control of being able to explain the cause.  We so need to be in control.  We don’t like being vulnerable.  We don’t appreciate living life without some kind of cause and effect.

            Jesus incorporated current events of his day for a teaching opportunity.  “Considering Pilate’s random violence,” Jesus asked, “what do you think?  Were those Galilean victims worse sinners than all other Galileans?  And what about those eighteen folks who lost their lives when the tower of Siloam fell on them,” Jesus asked.  “Were they worse sinners than all those who did not die?”

            And you, disciples of Jesus in this room, what do you think?  Are the people of Haiti or Chili worse sinners than the rest of the people world-wide because their lives and livelihoods were smashed by earthquakes?  Were the survivors of those earthquakes more faithful than those who perished?  Were those who perished in the furnaces in Hitler’s hell, or were those who have been massacred in Darfur worse sinners than those who remained unscathed in the United States?  Are we better than they? Oh, and what about 9/11?  Were those who died in the Twin Towers worse than those who lived?  There is something powerful in us all that must define a cause; for some reason we must name who was at fault.

            Let us pause for a moment to better hear and comprehend these words of Jesus in verse 5:  “No, I tell you.”  No, survivors are not better than victims.  No, your sin is not greater than mine.  “No, I tell you.”

            “But.”  Now we are called to look at the second part of verse 5, and didn’t you just know we would have to confront a “but” somewhere in all of this?  Jesus said, “…but unless you repent, you will all perish just as they did.”  What does this mean?

            Has any tragedy that has happened near you or even to you caused you to re-evaluate your own life, the health of your own soul?  Have any of you ever come an eyelash away from death as you walked the fine line between living and dying?  Any real close calls while driving?  Anything fall from above, hitting just a few feet from where you stood?  Are there times in your life when you walked away while others didn’t?  Has seemingly random tragedy caught your attention to make you realize how fragile your life really is, how vulnerable and small you really are?  And have those situations awakened you to the need to “get things right” with God and with others?  Have you ever been jolted to the reality that you aren’t going to live forever?  Have you ever seemingly been graced with a second chance to “do life the right way this time?”  And have you changed?  Have you repented?  Have you become more serious about your living and about your dying because you have walked away knowing …”that could have been me”?

            Jesus simply pointed to those random tragedies that afflicted innocent people, and Jesus said, “Take the opportunity you have been given.  Wake up from your complacency that there will always be time tomorrow to get serious about your relationship with God.  You are alive today. Repent today.”

            Repentance is never a one-time event.  Repentance is more than sorrow, more than the promise to do it better.  Repentance is a change, a change of mind, a change of direction, a change of heart, a change in deeming what is essential and what is important and what really doesn’t matter.  Repentance is realizing and living that which we can take with us and that which we can’t.  Repentance means being turned, being turned again in the direction of God.  Hence, Jesus’ parable at the end of this text: The fig tree bore no fruit, and it just seemed like the tree was stealing nutrients from those trees that could live.  Ah, but the tree was graced.  The tree was given another chance to stay alive.  There was more time given and more attention paid to this tree who still had a chance to be turned in the direction of life and fruit-bearing faithfulness.  Time was given.  Another opportunity was given.

            Are you aware of what Jesus has done in this text?  Instead of berating the Romans, instead of pointing fingers at those who constructed the tower, he turned to his own to ask, “what can we all learn from this?”  Maybe this text is before you and me today in order for us to be thankful for another day.  Because Jesus’ love and salvation fills us, maybe today we will have the courage to ask ourselves, “are we bearing fruit or just taking up space?”  You and I have been given a new day to be turned toward the light.  Let’s be what we’ve been called to be and leave the rest to God.                                                        Amen