Living with Purpose: March 23

 Year C, Lent 3                                 Luke 13:1-9                                                                                                          One of my least favorite things about living near the coast of Virginia was the 3 month period when we were on alert for hurricanes.  Fortunately, in the 18 years that I lived there, we never had a devastating storm.  We had some bad ones, but none that caused severe damage or loss of life.  I was living in Norfolk, which is right next to Virginia Beach.  Virginia Beach was the home of the Christian Broadcasting Network and Regent University, both founded by Pat Robertson.  The joke was that we didn’t have to worry about hurricanes because either Pat Robertson would pray the storm away, or it just wouldn’t affect us because of the moral leadership of Pat Robertson. 

We just got a small piece of the storm.

Robertson often linked disasters to the morality of the people in the places these  disasters affected. When an earthquake killed hundreds of thousands of people in Haiti, he said it was because they made a pact with the devil. When a hurricane threatened coastal Virginia, Robertson claimed that he prayed it away and God would never want to damage his Christian campus and ministry.  Instead, the hurricane hit North and South Carolina, killing 17 people there.

            Robertson is not the only Christian leader to make these kinds of connections.  However, before his death just a few years ago, he was one of the few who had his own television network and university to amplify his views.  There is a part of many of us that connects bad things that happen to what we have or have not done. Whether we admit it or not, we often connect good things with good people and bad things with bad people.  It drives us crazy when bad things happen to really good people. How many times have you said or heard someone say, “They didn’t deserve that.”  Consider the stories of people who give credit to God when they missed their flight on a plane that crashed. The implication is that God wanted that individual to live while letting the others die.  If you look at our Gospel reading today, you will hear Jesus addressing this question of why things happen to certain people and not others.  Unfortunately, he didn’t provide a very clear answer.

            It starts off clear. The people in his midst (probably a mix of disciples and onlookers) mentioned 2 recent incidents, one which was the deaths of a group of people at the hands of Pilate.   We know of Pilate as he was involved in Jesus’ death, but he was well known as being brutal with the Jewish people, quick to subdue any potential insurrection with violence.  When the people mentioned this incident, Jesus guessed that they were bringing this up because they wanted an explanation. Perhaps it was coming from a place of fear.  Were they next? Perhaps just curiosity. Have you ever noticed when something horrible happens, we are all desperate to find an explanation, partly to prevent other bad things happening, but also because we are wondering—how can we avoid this terrible thing from happening to us?  What can we tell ourselves to make us feel better?

            Jesus answered their non-question with a question: “Do you think that because these Galileans suffered in this way they were worse sinners than all other Galileans? No, I tell you…” This answer probably made them feel a mix of relief and fear. If they thought they were more sinful then most, it was relief.  If they felt they were actually good people, they probably didn’t like this answer, because this meant they could do nothing to avoid horrible things happening to them.  So far, I like this answer by Jesus.  If I concluded that everything bad that has happened to me was connected to my sins and God’s anger about my sins—I would have a difficult time worshipping that kind of God and it would be a miserable way to live. 

Then Jesus goes on… and here is where things get murky.  “No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish as they did.”  This is a good example of why we can’t read the Bible literally. Obviously, not everyone who refused to repent was going to be killed by Pilate.  Pilate just didn’t have that kind of time.  However, it appears that he was saying that there will be consequences when we don’t repent.  That sounds a little scary. We have to be really careful not to make this into some kind of formula. Like, if you don’t repent, bad things happen.  It’s not that simple. We have all seen people who have gotten through life without there being any obvious consequences for their bad behavior.  But just because we don’t see the consequences doesn’t mean there aren’t any.

I believe what Jesus is doing here is shifting the perspective of the crowd.  They wanted this conversation to be about the sins of other people. It’s so much easier to judge other people then look at ourselves.  I think we all know that when we sin, there are consequences, sometimes to other people, sometimes to our planet, but most often to ourselves. When Jesus says, “unless you repent” it looks like a judgment or an ultimatum.  Yet what if we perceive repentance as an opportunity for us to examine our lives and ask for forgiveness?  So many people move through life carrying guilt and shame.  This is Jesus saying, you don’t have to carry that forever. You can repent and wipe the slate clean.  It’s not easy, but you can do it, with God’s help. 

A lot of people think that if we emphasize the God of love and compassion, then we can’t possibly talk about a God who judges or holds us accountable.  If you have a child or remember being a child, you know that life without consequences doesn’t help the child.  When a parent says no to their child or reprimands them, that doesn’t mean they don’t love their child. We are God’s children and God loves us so very much, but God wants us to be better, do better.

That is what the parable at the end of our Gospel is about as well. A fig tree is planted in a garden and after the appropriate amount of time, the owner of the fig tree sees that it’s not bearing fruit and decides to cut it down.  The gardener says, let’s give it some help (manure) and some more time and then we will cut it down if it doesn’t bear fruit.  There are consequences, but there is also grace.  When we find that our sin are building up and stop us from being the people that God want us to be, we can ask God for help and God is going to give us the help and the time we need.  But that doesn’t mean that God has no expectations on us or our behavior. 

There is urgency in this text because as we all know, life is far too fragile.  It’s so easy to put our relationship with God on the back burner because there are always more pressing demands on our time and energy.  What Jesus is doing here is encouraging a faith that is action oriented, a faith that bears fruit.   The fig tree had a purpose, to grow figs. Each one of us has a purpose as well.  It’s probably not always as clear as it is with a fruit tree, but we all have a purpose, one that contributes not just to our own life, but this world that we live in.

 If you are thinking, I don’t know what my purpose is. Loving God, loving your neighbor, sharing the love of God— that is a good place to start.  Having a purpose doesn’t mean we have a life plan that is all figured out. It means that we live with intention and hope. One thing I love about our faith is that Jesus tells us no matter who we are, what we do, how far along we are in our journey of faith, we have a reason for being.  We might not know our plan, but there is a plan. The closer we are to God, the closer we are to our purpose.

Lent Will Break Your Heart: February 22, 2023

 Year A Ash Wednesday                        Joel 2:1-2, 12-17                                                                                         

            The reading from the prophet Joel begins, “Blow the trumpet in Zion; sound the alarm on my holy mountain! Let all the inhabitants of the land tremble, for the day of the Lord is coming near—a day of darkness and gloom…”  Welcome to Lent!  This is what you expect from Lent, isn’t it? Darkness, gloom, and then guilt and shame.  It’s your fault all these terrible things are happening.  If you want things to turn things around, you must repent.  That’s’ the way these readings from the prophets normally go. And if you read Joel with that expectation, that is what you will get.  However, upon closer inspection, you might see that Joel is a bit different than the other prophets.

            The first two chapters talk about the destruction of the land due to an enormous locust invasion.  A locust infestation would have destroyed their crops, which was their source of food and money.  It wasn’t just a nuisance; it was a disaster that affected every part of their lives.  What is interesting is that Joel never blames this invasion of locusts on the sins of the people, which was a fairly typical tactic at this time. 

            He painted an alarming and disturbing picture, but given the fact that this was their unavoidable reality, it seems a reasonable thing to do.  But he never blames anyone. In the midst of this disturbing picture, Joel shifts the tone and writes, “Yet even now, says the Lord, return to me with all your heart…” Typically when we see the word return in this context of Ash Wednesday, we think: repentance, confession. And Joel does suggest fasting, weeping and mourning—which we might also associate with repentance.  But consider this, their crops have been decimated.  They are already fasting out of necessity.  If they aren’t weeping and mourning, it’s only because they don’t feel comfortable doing so.  Maybe they are just holding it all together like so many of us do. In some ways, Joel is giving them permission to weep and mourn.

             Then Joel says, “rend your hearts and not your clothing.” Joes doesn’t want them to rip their clothing which is a traditional display of guilt and shame.  He doesn’t ask them to roll in the dirt.  He’s not asking them to repent of sins and he’s not accusing them of anything.  He asks them to fast, to weep, to mourn and to rend their hearts. 

`           Rend your hearts.  It literally means to tear your heart…which sounds a lot like a broken heart.  Frankly I would rather tear my clothing.  But we must remember that these people were already suffering. Their hearts were probably already broken.  Joel was asking them to break them a little more…but not so they could punish themselves.  He was asking them to rend their hearts so that they could renew their relationship with God.  “Return to the Lord, your God, for he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.”

            We don’t know why the people have distanced themselves from God. Maybe it was something they did, maybe it was totally out of their control. Perhaps, they didn’t even know it was happening.  And then suddenly they realized, they no longer had a relationship with God. Maybe the stress of the famine had been too much for them. Or they lost too many people they loved. It could have been an intentional decision, but more likely, it was just a gradual distancing.  That is what it usually is. 

            Joel wasn’t telling people to repent (and just so you know, there is nothing wrong with repentance, it’s a good and important thing), but that is not what this story was about.  How do we know? Because he wasn’t telling them what to repent from.  No, his very ardent desire was for them to reconnect with God, reorient their lives in a way that God would once again be at the center. 

            Joel wasn’t spending time asking why all these horrible things are happening and why God feels so far away—as we so often see in the psalms and even our own lives.  No.  He was calling for action.  He believed that what we do as humans matter.  It affects the world and it affects our relationship with God.  In Hebrew thought, the heart isn’t the seat of the emotion as much as it’s a place of thought and reflection.  When Joel told the people to rend their hearts, he wanted them to spend time considering how they can repair their relationship with God. Don’t obsess over why it’s happening or why it isn’t fair.  None of that will help.  Instead, Joel is saying, “Ok, this is the horrible stuff we are dealing with and this is how we are going to climb out of it. 

            First we will fast. Then we will weep and mourn. Then we will spend time reconnecting with the God of grace and mercy.  Then…well Joel doesn’t actually predict what will happen after that.  He doesn’t promise that the harvest will return and all will be well again.  Joel doesn’t make any promises at all…it’s more like an appeal.  He encourages them to join together—weep together, pray together, reconnect with God and with the people of God.

            That is what we are asking during Lent as well. We haven’t had an invasion of locusts, but we’ve had about every other imaginable thing.  Maybe you feel like you are 100% committed to God right now and there is absolutely no way you can improve upon that. If so, you can stop listening.  Otherwise, it might be time to take the advice of Joel.  Fast…if not from food, from the thing that distracts you most from your relationship with God.  Weep and mourn…if not for yourself for someone else.  There is no shortage of suffering people in our world today.  Tear you heart, not with the intent to hurt, but to open it up a little more to God’s mercy and grace.  Join the community of faith, because this is hard stuff and you might need some support.  Come to our Lenten program Wednesday nights where people will be sharing parts of their faith journey.  Attend every Sunday service you can attend.  Make an appointment with Mark or me if you need to talk. Seriously, clergy live for those kinds of conversations.  Return to God with all your heart.