Third Sunday in Lent
March 23, 2025
Luke 13:1-9

It should come as no surprise to you, that I’m a big reader. I keep a list of the books I read each year, and I noticed something about my list. I read about a lot of terrible events, a lot of violence. Among other things, I read a book on the fall of the Roman Republic; I read a history of Alexander the Great’s conquests, one book on the Battle of Waterloo, three books on the Civil War, one book on World War One, three books on World War Two, two books on the Vietnam War, and the memoirs of a soldier in Afghanistan. It’s a wonder I can even fall asleep at night.

Some people read to escape reality, I suppose. I don’t. I read to engage, to explore, and to ponder the mess that is humanity. Because, we’ve always been a mess. Did you hear what Jesus was just talking about? Apparently, some Galileans had gone to offer sacrifices at the Temple. And Pontius Pilate, imperial henchman that he was, mixed their own blood with those sacrifices. Fortunately, the Bible spares us the details. Jesus then mentions how the Tower of Siloam fell on some people. Apparently, that was a tower that formed part of the defensive wall around Jerusalem. We don’t know much else about it, other than the fact that eighteen souls perished. Being a human is a rough business.

But, you don’t need to read about all those horrible wars to know that. You don’t to read the Bible to know that. You know it, because you’ve lived it. You’ve seen it. Life is hard. We lose people, sometimes violently and suddenly. And sometimes, we watch them slowly linger and collapse. We go broke. Our families fall apart. One day, we wake up and realize that we’re possessed by drugs or drink. We watch it on the news – think of the trauma we see everyday – people starving, getting bombed, shot, kidnapped, crushed when their shoddy apartment collapses during a earthquake. In the end, someone is suffering; and sometimes it’s millions who suffer. Sometimes you’re just trying to do your religious duty, and some tyrant mixes your own blood with your sacrifices. Sometimes you’re going about your day, and a tower falls on you. Being a human is a rough business.

And then, Jesus seems to rub salt in the wound. “Do you think that they were worse offenders than all the others living in Jerusalem?” Jesus says. “No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish just as they did.”

Hold up, Jesus. What did we do wrong? What did they do wrong? And are you telling me that calamity is a consequence of my sins? That doesn’t seem to stack up with who we know God is. We need a little historical context. And you’re in luck – good thing I’ve read all those history books.

See, Jesus is speaking specifically to the people of that time, and that place. The people of Judea, Jews, are living under the authority of the Roman Empire. And a lot of those Judeans were working actively against the Romans, to kick them out, to start a revolt, to kill some Romans. On the other hand, some of the Judeans were just happy to go along with the Romans. To collude with the imperial occupiers. So what Jesus is saying, is that if you choose to live by the sword, you’re going to die by the sword. And if you choose to go along with the powers of corruption, then you will yourself will be corrupted. “Unless you repent, you will all perish just as they did.”

And then Jesus gives that parable. The tree that does not bear good fruit is going to get cut down. It’s a metaphor. “Unless you repent, you will all perish just as they did.” And sadly, I know from all those terrible books, that that’s exactly what happened. Just forty years after Jesus the people of Judea revolt against the Romans and they are massacred. Live by the sword, die by the sword. Go along with corruption, and you get corrupted. And sadly, it’s the innocent people who are, in that horribly cold phrase, “collateral damage.” 

So Jesus warns us. And the warning is stark. Repent. If you live by the sword, you will die by the sword. If you go along with corruption, you yourself will be corrupted. God is not going to do that to you, you’re going to do that to yourself; and chances are, if you succumb, you are going to hurt other people, too. That is one thing I’ve learned from all those awful books. At every critical juncture in history, there were people that could have stopped such evil. They could’ve turned around, made a different decision, they could have repented. Pontius Pilate did not have to mingle the Galileans’ blood with their sacrifices. But he did. And the horror is that all too often, the whole tree gets chopped down because of it.

And I wish, I wish I had something to say that would make it all better. Or something that would soften such brutish hearts. But I don’t. All I can do is to point to the cross. Pilate mixed the blood of those Galileans with their own sacrifices; and Pilate will soon draw blood from Jesus himself. The tower of Siloam fell on those eighteen people; just as the weight of crucifixion will soon crush Jesus. When faced with such calamities, this is where I take solace. That Jesus has been there with me. Every innocent victim, every person who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time; in that moment, Jesus is with them. On the cross. Jesus is with you. 

And with that, is the promise that Jesus is with you, in all the goodness of human life. Every cross is followed by an empty tomb. And that by choosing the good things, by choosing holiness and righteousness and grace and mercy, then maybe, just maybe, that will be the fertilizer that tree needs to grow and flourish and put forth fruit. Because you only know that things are bad, because you’ve experienced the good. You don’t know what a crooked line is unless you’ve seen a straight one. We only know that things are horrific, because we’ve seen happy things. And I think this is one thing that we can all do, to push back against the horror of the world. It’s to celebrate in the good things. To give thanks. To thank God for the blooming flowers, even if they do give us allergies. To thank God for our loved ones, even if they do sometimes aggravate us. To thank God for peace, even when it comes at a great price.

One last image. When Jesus talks about the tree that does not bear fruit, we think he’s talking about us. I don’t read it that way. I think we are the manure. We are the stinking mess. But, that’s the stinking mess that can make good things grow. Look at your life, look at the hard things around you, look at this world, you are the fertilizer – even the stinkiest, messiest parts of your life can be transformed by God to enrich the world around you. You are the salt of the earth, you are the light of the world. 

So take a moment and reflect on that – reflect on what a gift you are. There are stinky, messy things going on in your life, surely, we are all facing something. Take whatever that is – and trust that God is using it for God’s glory. Because it always takes some stinking manure to make the green things grow. Take the remainder of this Lenten season, and let God dig things up. And allow God to spread you around, opening wide your arms like Jesus did on the cross. And you, you will be the blessing. Well and good, because you can bear fruit for the Kingdom of God.