Lent III, Cycle C

"Repent and Bear Fruit (Or, the Sermon with the Pig Story)!"

March 7, 2010

The Rev. Dr. David M. Wendel

Saint Luke's Lutheran Church, Colorado Springs

Lessons: Isaiah 55:1-9; I Corinthians 10:1-13; St. Luke 13:1-9

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

I'm not really sure if folks just like it when I tell stories about my grandparent's farm, or if you like stories about my pain and suffering—or maybe it's stories that include both. But whenever I tell a farm story, as I did last weekend, about the mother hen on my grandparent's farm pecking my legs bloody—I get a great response! So, I thought I'd tell another farm story—this one, not about chickens, but about my grandma and grandpa Barker's big ol' sow. You see, in addition to chickens, they also had pigs—as well as white-faced Hereford cows. And, while the cows were pretty much un-interested in my brother, sister and I, the big ol' mother pig didn't seem to like us at all. So that, as we followed my Grandpa Barker around the farm, we had to be careful to follow him closely so that the old sow wouldn't come after us—especially when she had piglets. Which, wasn't so difficult for my brother Denis, and sister, Sandy—but, as I said last week, being short and pudgy, I was always bringing up the rear. Literally. One day, my grandpa was going out to shovel grain from a wagon into the feed trough, so the three of us kids followed along. And seeing us kids, the old mother pig came along behind us. Which meant after Grandpa swung his long legs quickly into the wagon, Denis, and then Sandy also quickly scrambled up and into the wagon, which left me last, trying with my short stubby legs, to get my feet up onto the tongue of the wagon, where I was stuck, because I couldn't pull myself up any further. Which the old sow seemed to realize, as she came up behind me and had her mouth around my right leg, ready to grab hold—at which time Grandpa, realizing what was happening, grabbed a shovel and hit the ol' sow on the snout with one hand, while grabbing the back of my belt with the other and hauling me into the wagon with one swift motion. And I might add, soon after that, hearing what had happened, my Grandma Barker convinced Grandpa to get rid of the pigs altogether—what with having us kids around so often. Which was a relief, because I think Grandpa might've considered getting rid of me, rather than the pigs, if Grandma would've suggested it.

All of which leads us to our Gospel lesson, believe it or not, in a kind of forced, stretched way. Because what our passage from Luke presents to us today, is the desire among humans to look to the misfortune of others, and assume that because they have suffered in life, they surely must be worse sinners than us. Just as my brother and sister might very well have concluded that because I was attacked so often by chickens, and pigs, not to mention being short and pudgy to begin with—one might conclude that I was being punished by God. Assuming, of course, that God used chickens and pigs to execute his judgment and wrath.

And though you might find that amusing, what is not amusing is the fact that in Jesus' time, there were those who believed that recent tragic occurrences were indeed caused by the sins of those who had suffered. And they believed it so strongly that they were telling Jesus about it! They pointed in particular to some Galileans who were massacred by Herod. And in response, Jesus pointed to some eighteen persons who were killed when the tower of Siloam collapsed and fell on them, as Jesus asked, "Do you think that because these suffered in this way, that they were worse sinners than you?" It was a rhetorical question, of course, because Jesus knew the answer already. Jesus knew that like most of their fellow Jews, they did consider those who suffered to be worse sinners—because all misfortune, all suffering, all pain in life was thought to be the result of one's sin. So that, the more you were the one who was attacked by mad chickens and angry mother sows; the more you struggled and suffered in life, the more obvious it was that you were guilty of some great, or greater sin. And we see that not just here, but in several places in the Gospel accounts, where human trial and tribulation is considered punishment from God, upon human sin. And there, as here, Jesus is adamant that pain and suffering are not caused by sin—that blindness, physical deformity, tragedy of any kind, visited upon particular people, are not God's judgment upon sin—because, if that's the way God worked, we would all warrant such misfortune, because truly, we are all equally sinners in God's sight. Yes, these things happen to us all—whether tragedy, loss, calamity, trials and testing. But they happen not because we are greater sinners than anyone else, but that through adversity, we might grow and mature in our faith, as we experience difficulty and challenge in our lives. In spite of what one or two Christian ministers asserted. the devastation caused by earthquakes in Haiti, and now in Chile, were not the result of the Haitians or Chileans being worse sinners than everyone else in the world—they happened because these things happen in life—sometimes there, sometimes here, sometimes in other parts of the world. And the judgment of God today is not earthquake, fire or famine. The judgment of God upon sin, is death. And as we all sin, so also will we all die.

That's what Jesus is saying when He says, "unless you repent, you will all perish as they did." St. Paul writes, "the wages of sin is death". And truly, all those who sin, will die, as did the Galileans. Some of us die a normal, natural death, and some of us die in tragic consequences—but we all die. And while, in that sense, death itself is God's judgment upon sin, death will not be the final word, for those who repent—for those who turn away from sin, and turn toward God, bearing fruit in our lives that befit repentance. This is why Jesus goes on to tell the parable of the fig tree, which exemplifies the fact that God does not desire the death of sinners, but that they turn to Him, and live. Knowing that all sinners will die, ultimately, Jesus now tells a parable that shows how patient God is, and how God isn't in a hurry to put sinners to death, but will wait, patiently, for sinners to turn to Him and live. For the two things God wants for sinners, is that they repent of their sin, that they turn away from lives of selfishness, greed, idolatry, sexual immorality and evil, and turn toward Him, so that now living godly lives, they will bear fruit. St. Paul cautions the Corinthians in our second lesson, warning them not to desire evil, not to become idolaters, not to indulge in gluttony and sexual immorality. For God desires that we turn from these things, that we repent of such things, and turn to Him—that though we die, yet shall we live—and live not just for eternity, in heaven—but that we live here, as people for whom Christ died, and was raised, to give us full and abundant lives now—as children of God. And what constitutes full and abundant lives as children of God? Fruit-bearing.

God is patient, and waits for us to both repent, but also, to bear fruit. In the parable, we see that God waits not one year, not two years, not three years, as would be reasonable, but even a fourth year—cultivating and fertilizing his fig tree, hoping that sooner or later, there would be fruit. And what is this fruit? Again, it is St. Paul who makes it clear, what we are to turn away from, and what we are to turn toward. In his epistle to the Church in Galatia, Paul encourages the children of God to repent of fornication, impurity, licentiousness, idolatry, sorcery, enmity, strife, jealousy, anger, selfishness, dissension, party spirit, envy, drunkenness, carousing and the like. And as we repent of these, we are then to bear fruit of the Spirit of God, which is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control. These are the works we are to do, as children of God, saved by the grace of God, redeemed by the Son of God, who died and rose that we might live—live to bear spiritual fruit. These are the works which are the marks, not just of eternal life, but of abundant life, here and now. Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control.

So, let us avail ourselves of the patience of God, let us hear and heed the Lenten call—that now is the acceptable time, now is the day of salvation, and let us repent—not tomorrow, not next week, or next month, or next year—but now. Let us turn away from the sins of the flesh, and turn toward the works of the Spirit. Let us bear fruit that befits that repentance, as we respond to God's patience, and forgiveness, bearing fruit—fruit that abides, fruit that pleases God—again, the fruit that is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control! May God be patient with us, as we strive to bear good fruit, in our daily lives!

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.