SERMON
Third Sunday in Lent
St. Simon's on the Sound
Luke 13:1-9
Several weeks ago, I was called
to Fort Walton Beach Hospital, where I volunteer as a chaplain, to visit a
patient described as "fading quickly." The nurse who contacted me
didn't have any details about the patient other than he was requesting someone
to pray with and for him.
I found John, not his real name,
alone and lying in his hospital bed, hooked up to several IV lines. When I
entered, he was gazing into space, not sleeping but also not fully awake.
I approached his bed and
introduced myself. He seemed surprised to see me. He said, "Oh, my friends
must have called you, they're not here now." I asked if he would like me
to stay and visit for a bit. He responded, "There's no hope for me. I have
done too many bad things. I don't think God will forgive me and I am scared."
And, after a long pause, "Do you think God will forgive me?"
John reached out and grasped my
hand. He continued, "Where are you from?" I replied, "I am from
St. Simon's on the Sound – you know the big church on 98 just across from
Whataburger."
John looked me in the eye and
smiled. "I know St. Simon's", he said. "I used to go there for
Cold Night – it was very nice."
It was increasingly evident that
John was in a great deal of pain and running out of energy. I spoke to him
briefly, offering words of comfort regarding God being a loving God,
compassionate and forgiving to those who seek forgiveness. A God who is always
present – for all of his children – always ready to grace us with his love.
John continued to clutch my hand
as we sat in silence for a moment. It was apparent that his pain was worsening.
I asked John if he would like to pray. He said, "yes."
As is my custom, in most cases, I
asked John to tell me what he would like to pray for. I was stunned when John
came forth with an extensive and absolutely beautiful prayer asking God for
forgiveness and thanking God for the love that people had shown him over the
years.
By now, John was clearly in
continual pain. We closed with the 23rd psalm, which he knew by
heart, and my own prayer for him – a prayer that reflected his words – his
desires.
As I said, "Good-bye,"
John reached out and grabbed my hand. He said, "Thank you for coming. It's
amazing to know that people really love you."
I did not visit John again; so, I
have no idea what happened to him. But he remains in my heart and my prayers
each day – I pray that wherever he may be he has come to know God's love and
God's forgiveness.
This encounter with John came to
mind as I thought about the message in today's gospel from Luke. The passage is
divided into two parts. The first part describes two separate events – first,
Pilate's mingling the blood of Galileans with their sacrifices – probably a
description of the massacre of a group of pilgrims in the Temple. And, the
second, the collapse of the tower of Siloam, a tower in the wall around
Jerusalem that fell without warning and crushed eighteen Jerusalemites.
These two tragic events point to
the fragility and the unpredictability of life. Those who died in these events
did nothing wrong. They had not been sentenced to any sort of punishment. They
were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.
In this passage, Jesus warns us
that serendipitous events such as these should alert us to the sense of urgency
that we must have if we are to repent – if we are to save our souls. He says,
"…I tell you…unless you repent, you will perish just as they did."
Jesus reminds us that we are all
called to repent. He urges us to recognize that the need to repent is a
universal condition. We are all guilty of sin – all, guilty of turning away
from the Lord; and, we are all called to turn back to see things in a new way –
to adopt a different perspective on our lives – a perspective that reflects
Jesus' command to love -to be filled with compassion and caring.
For Jesus, repentance refers to establishing
an entirely reoriented self. For Jesus, repentance leads to a new consciousness
of our relationship with God, and a new way in which we live our lives as a
result of that relationship. It refers to the urgent need to re-orient our
souls to a way of being that mirrors Jesus' care, compassion and love for all
of humanity.
Jesus gives us fair warning. He
urges us not to be lulled into the, "Oh, it won't happen to me" way
of thinking. Death comes to us all – we do not have the luxury of dictating
where or when. If we wish to seize God's graciousness, we must repent now.
This message of urgency is also
very present in the second segment of Luke's gospel. Jesus' parable of the fig
tree speaks to imminent death – imminent judgment. "Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree
therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire."
Woe to the tree that does not hurry up and bear fruit – does not hurry up and
repent.
This particular tree is lucky. Jesus
asks that patience and mercy temporarily keep the tree's fate at bay. Give it
another year, he suggests. However, we understand that the tree has, most
certainly, not been left to its own devices. The role of the gardener in
preventing failure to bloom is crucial. Everything possible is being done to help
the tree to bear fruit – to repent.
In the same way, when it comes to
repentance, God, the vineyard owner, does not leave His people to their own
resources. Through the gift of his Son Jesus, the gardener, God encourages and cultivates
their repentance – leads them to a life in which their souls do not perish, but
rather are filled with grace.
This theme of the fragility and
unpredictability of life should encourage us to focus our Lenten reflections on
questions such as, "Do I form my way of being on rationalizations that
allow me to get through the day feeling blessed, safe, and presuming that "it"
will never happen to me?" Or, "Do I live each day forming my way of
being by seeking the grace of God through repentance and a new way of seeing
things, a new way of living my life."
"Am I on a journey that will
bear fruit, or will I remain a barren tree? "Will the fruit of my Lenten
journey lead me to love those who are burdened under the weight of poverty and
devastation of all kinds, or will I remain blind to those who live in darkness?"
And lastly, when we make the turn,
when we repent, what does it feel like? What happens to us? If we have begun
the journey of seeing life in a new way, of being in the world as followers of
Christ, of becoming trees that are not barren but that, indeed, bear fruit, what
does that feel like – what does our life become?
Bishop
Dan Edwards, retired Bishop of the Diocese of Nevada, and the bishop who
ordained me, wrote in a recent blog that addresses the transformation of our
souls through repentance, " The end result is that we don’t fly away, at least
not just yet. Seeking God leads us back into ourselves, into the nitty gritty
life we are already living. And it leads us back to each other for that is
where God is best found – in both the beauty and the sorrow of our fellow human
beings. But with the faith that God is here with us – Emmanuel, God is with us
– we engage our own lives with faith, hope, and love. The presence of God makes
all the difference."
This
quote, of course, leads me back to John lying, alone and in pain, in his
hospital bed. John clutching my hand. John searching for assurance that in
these last moments of his life it is not too late to repent. John asking, "Do
you think God will forgive me." John worrying that he is not worthy
of God's love.
Repentance
doesn't bring gold stars, a stairway to heaven, or any other lofty and
idealized vision of what God's forgiveness might be all about. No, not at all.
Repentance simply brings the God in us into close contact with the God in the
"other." Repentance brings us the peace of knowing that we are loved
because we love. Not romantic love, but agape
love. The highest form of love – the love of God for Man and the love of Man
for God.
Repentance
begins with encountering and being present with the Johns of this world. It is
through these encounters with the poor, the lonely and the outcast that the
urgency of repentance speaks to us.
Repentance
begins with the deep understanding that we are all Johns – that we are all in
the same boat. Repentance begins with understanding that our last moment on
this earth will come we know not when. Repentance begins with humility and
proceeds to an outpouring of love – agape
love.
And, it
is through the power of agape love that
we are transformed. It is through agape
love that the God in us and the God in the "other" meet in a way that
the grace of God transforms us both into trees that bear fruit – into true
disciples of Christ.
I close
with words from our Great Litany:
"That it may please thee to give us a heart to
love and fear thee, and diligently live after thy commandments. We beseech thee
to hear us, good Lord."
"That it may please thee to give us true
repentance; to forgive us all our sins, negligences, and ignorances; and to
endue us with the grace of the Holy Spirit to amend our live according to thy
holy Word. We beseech thee to hear us, good Lord."
"That it may please thee to strengthen such as
do stand; to comfort and help the weak-hearted; to raise up those who fall; and
finally, to beat down Satan under our feet. We beseech thee to hear us, good
Lord."
"That it may please thee to grant that, in the
fellowship of all the saints, we may attain to thy heavenly kingdom. We beseech
thee to hear us, good Lord."
(BCP, 152)
