Introduction: Given the global reach, and the technological advances of our world-wide media, rarely a week goes by without our learning of some new tragedy or catastrophe. Whether its another tsunami in the pacific, a bomb that explodes in a Middle Eastern marketplace or mosque,  a shooting or stabbing in our city streets or college campuses, we are made well aware of all the difficult stuff that happens in life. With each new event, though the circumstances may be different, a similar question forms in our hearts and begins to rise to our lips: Why? Why does this stuff happen?

 

If it makes us feel any better, these kinds of events are not new to the 21^st c.; they happened when Jesus lived as well. And so we might think that Jesus would have some good answers for us, some good theological or philosophical exposition on why tragedies and catastrophes occur. This morning, as we continue to follow Jesus “on the way,” looking for him to point out to us the life that is truly life, Jesus is made aware, without even having to go online, of a troubling event. To this event, he adds one of his own. But in neither case does he give us answers to the “why.” Instead, he redirects things, using these troubling events to remind us of the fragility of life, and of our need to be in right relationship with God. As does so, he tells a parable about a God who loves to spread manure. So, what’s up with that?

 

I. The Fragility of Life  

            A. The event that those traveling with Jesus brought to his attention had to do with a time when some Jewish worshippers from the region of Galilee were on pilgrimage in Jerusalem. As part of their pilgrimage, they had gone into the Temple to offer sacrifice. Unfortunately, they themselves ended up being sacrificed, butchered by some of Pilate’s troops. Were not really sure why Pilate, the Roman governor of the region of Judea, did this, but sources outside the Bible at least let us know that this behavior by Pilate was not unheard of. It’s likely that Pilate was worried about some kind of political uprising by the Jews in the Galilee region, and was seeking to send a message.

 

            B Whatever Pilate’s reason, those who brought this event to the attention of Jesus were suggesting a reason of their own. They don’t state it directly, but it’s implied by the response of Jesus, who said, “Do you think that these Galileans were worse sinners than all the other Galileans because they suffered this way?” Do you hear the assumption? It’s that this tragedy happened to these folks because they deserved it. It was, in some way, a punishment for their sin. That, you might recognize, is the same response one of Job’s friends offered to explain Job’s suffering. “You are reaping what you have sown, Job. You have brought this calamity upon yourself.”

 

            C. When you think about it, it’s kind of a comforting answer. The implication is that you’re not as bad as those folks; since this disaster didn’t happen to you, you must be living a pretty good life. That kind of reasoning works for awhile, until you are the one who is suffering! As we saw last week, when Jesus sniffed out the motive of greed that was hiding behind a brother’s quest for justice, Jesus sniffs out a dangerous way of thinking. He sniffs out at attempt at self-justification. So, he pursues the issue further by bringing to mind another catastrophe, the death of eighteen people when a water tower in the Siloam neighborhood of Jerusalem fell on them. Were these eighteen people more guilty than others who were living in Jerusalem at the time? Was God giving them what they deserved? Extrapolate that out and we might ask, is God giving us what we deserve when a gunman enters a sanctuary and begins shooting, or when a twister topples a building and causes numerous deaths?

 

            D. The answer Jesus gives, both then and now, is a resounding “no!” Yes, we will all stand before the throne of God’s judgment. Yes, God’s judgment will fall on those who have lived lives of persistent disobedience. But no, disaster and judgment are not linked; one does not follow logically from the other. As to why disaster and catastrophe happens, I find it helpful that Jesus does not launch into an abstract theological discussion of suffering. It’s a road that can lead us to take many wrong turns, simply because we are not big enough to know. Instead, Jesus does what he so often does: he uses events to bring things down to a personal level. He doesn’t ask philosophical questions; he asks questions about us. It’s not, “What about the heathen in Timbuktu?” It’s, “What about you?” He reminds us, in effect, that we are all mortal. That’s what tragedy does, doesn’t it? It reminds us of how utterly fragile life is. Nothing exposes this more than when death comes suddenly and unexpectedly, cutting short a life that we believe had the potential to be much fuller. Sure, the medical community can calculate a certain life expectancy, but there are no guarantees. Further, our mortality is “exhibit A” that there is sin in our world. When sin entered the world, so did death. And so what Jesus encourages us to contemplate is not the cutting short of life, even if tragically, but the fact that life terminates and when it does, we will all face a decisive encounter with God in which our sin, not someone else’s, will be the major topic of discussion. The most important question is not, why did these people die, but, what about us? What about our sin? That’s where Jesus takes us.

 

II. The Necessity of Repentance

            A. To this all important question, Jesus gives the answer. “Unless you repent, you too will all perish.” Jesus here is speaking of not only physical, but spiritual death. Without repentance there is no forgiveness; without forgiveness we will be separated from God, forever. So that we don’t miss it, he says it not once, but twice. With this answer, Jesus points us back to the road where life is found. Only repentance can change death from a tragic end to a bridge to a new kind of life. Repentance, remember, means to turn. It describes the reorientation of our lives from our sinful desires as the focus, to having the life and purposes of God as our focus. It was at the heart of the teaching of John the Baptist as he prepared for the arrival of Jesus, and it was at the heart of the teaching of Jesus when he arrived.

 

B. Importantly, as they teach on the subject, we learn that repentance is not merely regret over the things we have done, or even just to apologize for them. To repent is to agree with God that a change of direction in our life is necessary, and then to actually seek to make that change. In his teaching, as recorded in Luke 3:11-14, John puts it this way: “Produce fruit,” John declares, “in keeping with repentance.” Then, he gives his listeners some examples. If God has blessed you with abundance, share with those who are in need. If you’re a business person, don’t overcharge your customers. If you are in a position of authority over others, treat them well. In other words, show through your actions that God’s gift of new life has really hit home in your heart.

 

III. The God Who Fertilizes

            A. As his listeners were pondering all of this, Jesus offers a parable. It’s a parable that helps us to understand the nature of the God to invites us to turn to him. It reveals a God who takes sin seriously, but who is also exceedingly patient, seeking to provide the opportunity for us to turn to him and to grow. It reveals a God who spreads manure. Jesus shows us this using the picture of a fig tree that, for several years, had not produced fruit. “Cut it down!” was the plan of the owner. “It’s just taking up space, using up the soil.” Now, when you think about it, isn’t that, generally, the predominant way the world tries to make things better? It is easy, it is quick, it is efficient. Get rid of it. Send in the tanks and the troops. Drop the bombs. Destroy it. It was, come to think of it, the way of Pilate with the Galileans.

 

            B. But God (possibly Jesus, but the point is the same), the caretaker of the vineyard, has a different idea. He wants to spread manure. Manure? Manure is not a quick fix. Manure is not efficient. Manure is not exhilarating. Manure is not something you can talk to your board of directors about on a fancy power point presentation. But manure, Eugene Peterson points out, is the stuff of resurrection. This apparently dead and despised waste is actually teeming with life, and if we’re patient enough to let it do its work, it can do amazing things. God, we find out, is not in a hurry. He is patient, writes Peter, not wanting anyone to perish. He wants all to come to repentance. So, he spreads manure. He fertilizes. He tends what seems like a fruitless tree for just a little longer. How much longer? I don’t know, but certainly far longer than we would. Will every tree respond? No, some will not. But God provides us with every opportunity, including the hearing of this text today, for us to turn to him and reorient our lives around him.

 

            C. Just how far will the God who is our gardner go? After John the Baptist encourages his listeners to produce fruit in keeping with repentance, he speaks these ominous words: “The ax is already at the root of the trees, and every tree that does not produce good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire” (Lk. 3:9). How about this: When we repent, when we turn to Jesus and give him our sin and say we want to live a new life, he does three things.

 

1. One, he says “Leave it alone.” Do you know that’s the same word that means “forgive?” It’s the word Jesus speaks from the cross when he says, “Father, forgive them (leave them alone) for they know not what they do.”

 

2. Two, he takes the ax for us. Any chopping we deserve, he, on the cross, allows it to be done to himself, in our place. It’s what enables him to say, “leave it alone.”

 

3. Three, he sends his Spirit, the Spirit who, as we make every effort to work out our salvation and produce fruit in keeping with repentance, works in us, at the same time, to bring that fruit to maturity.

 

To be sure, this passage is a warning. It directs us to take a long look at our lives and to consider if we’re ready to face our Maker. But it also reveals to us the wonderful path to life that that same Maker holds out for us. He desires, even more than we, that we become fruitful. And through his goodness and his power and his love, he has provided the way.