Saturday, March 22, 2025

But What About?

Luke 13:1-9
Lent 3
March 23, 2025
William G. Carter

At that very time there were some present who told him about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices. He asked them, “Do you think that because these Galileans suffered in this way they were worse sinners than all other Galileans? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish as they did. Or those eighteen who were killed when the tower of Siloam fell on them—do you think that they were worse offenders than all the others living in Jerusalem? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish just as they did.”

 

Then he told this parable: “A man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard; and he came looking for fruit on it and found none. So he said to the gardener, ‘See here! For three years I have come looking for fruit on this fig tree, and still I find none. Cut it down! Why should it be wasting the soil?’ He replied, ‘Sir, let it alone for one more year, until I dig around it and put manure on it. If it bears fruit next year, well and good; but if not, you can cut it down.’”


One of my favorite activities each month is to meet with our Men’s Breakfast Group. The group meets on the first and third Thursdays of each month. It’s a Bible study with donuts. On a good day, there will be about twenty guys around the table. 

It’s a good group. Sometimes it’s a fun group. But once in a while, we have a distraction.

Years ago, we had one attendee, a man who has since gone on to his eternal reward. He came with news clippings. He always asked the same question, “But What About This?” If the subject were “the God of love,” he would pull out a clipping of some heinous crime and ask, “But what about this?”

I don’t know if he was concerned about the crimes which always happened to someone else, somewhere else. I don’t know if he was worried about the state of the world, which can be confusing for any of us. I don’t know if he was baiting the teacher, questioning God, or if he expected an answer that would settle all other questions once and for all. And he kept asking: “What about this?”

We live in a difficult world. Terrible things happen. Danger lurks in the shadows and in broad daylight. Sometimes life unravels. Sometimes evil reveals its yellow teeth. Bob wanted to know, “What about this?”

It’s a good question. They asked it of Jesus. He is making his last trip to Jerusalem, teaching as he travels. In rapid succession, he warns people that they will be divided from one another. He tells them to read the signs of the times as closely as they watch for the weather. He encourages them to settle disputes as best they can. Then they said, “But what about what Pontius Pilate did to the pilgrims from Galilee?”

We can only infer the story, but it sounds tragic. Apparently, some people traveled from up north in Galilee to the Jerusalem Temple. They made the journey to offer sacrifices on the altar, as the Jewish Law taught. We don’t know the circumstances. Maybe there was a childbirth, and they wanted to thank the Lord. Or they were asking God’s forgiveness or celebrating God’s mercy. Perhaps they wished to renew their faith and brought a sacrificial lamb to seal the deal.

Don’t know. But blood was spilled. Their blood was spilled. And Pontius Pilate, the Roman empire’s representative, was behind it. What about that, Jesus? Why did that happen? Were they being punished for something they’d done? Was the Empire simply being cruel? Or worst of all, was it a senseless act of violence with no meaning? They want to know.

Jesus steps in, but curiously, he does not give a quick answer. He does not offer a plastic assurance that everything is going to resolve with a happy ending. Life just doesn’t work that way. When trauma interrupts our lives, we can’t simply click our heels three times and expect it will turn the frown upside down. Jesus can’t fix it, but he can pose a question: “Do you think those Galileans were worse sinners than all the other Galileans? Do you think they deserved how they were treated?” Then, conclusively, he says, “No!”

Yet as we heard, he goes on to say, “Unless you repent, you all will perish, just like them.” What does he mean, repent’?

Then he tells them a story of his own: “Remember that tower of Siloam in Jerusalem? It tumbled down to the ground. Eighteen people were crushed. Every one of them died.” Then he asks the question again. “Were the people who died worse sinners than everybody else in the city?” Again, he answers his own question, “No, I tell you.” They weren’t being punished. They weren’t being singled out. It was an act of irrational evil.

But then he says it again, “Unless you repent, you will all perish, just like them.” Oof! What does he mean, ‘repent’?

It sounds harsh. Imagine a teenage boy returning home one night at eleven o’clock. His mother is waiting up. She says, “Are you OK?” Of course he’s OK. He’s home. She says, “Were you fooling around with your friends tonight?” No, Mom. He was on a date. He took her home. He’s home.

Mom says, “I got a phone call. Your friend Jackie just flipped his parents’ car. He was on a date too. The ambulance took them to get checked out. We’re waiting to hear if they will be OK.” It’s disturbing news. He must sit down. Jackie and his girlfriend are friends of his. This is hard news.

Then his mother interrupts his thoughts to say, “Listen, buster, if you don’t straighten up, the same is going to happen to you.” And he looks at her. It doesn’t seem fair. He was home by eleven. He took his date home before that. They didn’t do anything wrong. At least, not this time. They were innocent. He had nothing to do with Jackie’s situation. Is his mother just being cranky? Or protective?

The fact is, Jesus has just separated tragedy from punishment. Both the situation he’s given and the story he tells are about innocent people. They’ve done nothing wrong. They were no worse sinners than any of the rest of us.

Yet he calls the people in front of him to repent. To turn around. To change their ways. To make a new beginning. At least, that’s how we traditionally take that word “repent” to mean.

Like my great-grandmother Leda Boal. We went to see her. She was up in years. My dad was prodding me to tell her my big news. I was bashful. He pushed again, so I blurted it out, “Great-Grandma, God is calling me to become a minister.” She looked at me, her face in blank shock. Then she turned to my father to say, “Glenn, you’re going to have to shape up.”

We think repentance is all about shaping up. At least we think that’s what it means. If you’re taking a date home late at night and take the corner too fast, you could flip the car and hurt both of you. Don’t do that. If you are doing something wrong – lying, stealing, cheating – sure, got to shape up. Change your ways. If you are acting cruel, mistreating others, causing real damage, knock it off! That’s exactly what repentance looks like.

I think of Pete Rose, the great baseball player, caught betting on his own team, getting permanently banned from baseball. He finally admitted what he had done, but never really apologized for it. Never said he would change his ways. Instead, he blamed everybody else. He said they were in the wrong. Never made the whole move.

Yet none of this is quite what Jesus seems to be saying. “Unless you all repent,” he says. This is the Gospel of Luke. Luke is always talking about repentance. The whole Christian life is one of continuing repentance. At the end, Christ is raised from the dead and he says to his church, “Preach repentance everywhere.” And it’s more than straightening up for your son’s great-grandmother, more than apologizing for your ongoing gambling problem. Rather, it’s an orientation for your whole life. It’s a routine of continually returning to God.

In truth, it’s a reminder of what happens in our baptism. Somebody official asks, “Do you turn from evil and all its works? Do you turn from the ways of sin that separate you from God?” The only good answer is, “Yes, I renounce them.” And I keep renouncing them. I renounce them every day. Because I continually need to be reoriented. To turn from myself and all my failings and turn again to God. To step out of the darkness that surrounds all of us, and step into the light. And if I slip back into the shadows, to come out again. Because God is patient and waits for us all.

The key is not to be distracted, but rather to keep our eyes on what is holy, right, and good. And there are plenty of distractions. Have you noticed that?

What about northern Spain, where dozens have been evacuated due to unusual flooding?[1] Or what about Tijuana, Mexico, which suffers from severe drought.”[2] What about the parking garages that have collapsed in Delaware[3] and Ottawa[4]? People are suffering from natural disasters. What about these tragedies? He says, “Repent. Stay grounded in the mercy of God. Pray for those people and help them in my name. That’s who you are.

But Jesus, what about all the daily report of human cruelty? What about the car show in New Mexico last Friday night, where three people were killed and sixteen wounded at a mass shooting[5]? Or last week, what about that thirty-year study in diabetes prevention that lost its NIH funding due to political games?[6] Or what the news that the US Department of Agriculture has cut $500 million from food pantries?[7]

And Jesus says, “Stay grounded in my identity. That’s repentance. Stay focused on my love for all people. That’s repentance. Feed the hungry best you can. Work for health and wholeness. Bind up the wounded and teach peace. That’s who I am and who I call you to become.”

We can say “what about this” and “what about that.” We can groan and moan what a terrible world this is. But it is the world where God has put us. This is the world where God has called us. And if we stay close to Christ, if we remain grounded in Christ’s values, anchored in Christ’s love, showing the same persistent mercy that Jesus shows to us, the road to repentance is not long. And we might be able to do some good.

It’s a tough world out there. Always has been, always will be. The difference that Christ makes is that the world doesn’t call the shots. Ruling the world and directing its people is God’s work. And God has told you, O mortal, what is good and what is required of you: to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God.[8]

That’s what repentance is all about.


(c) William G. Carter. All rights reserved.

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