First Reading Isaiah 55:1–9
1 Ho, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and you that have no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price. 2 Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy? Listen carefully to me, and eat what is good, and delight yourselves in rich food. 3 Incline your ear, and come to me; listen, so that you may live. I will make with you an everlasting covenant, my steadfast, sure love for David. 4 See, I made him a witness to the peoples, a leader and commander for the peoples. 5 See, you shall call nations that you do not know, and nations that do not know you shall run to you, because of the LORD your God, the Holy One of Israel, for he has glorified you. 6 Seek the LORD while he may be found, call upon him while he is near; 7 let the wicked forsake their way, and the unrighteous their thoughts; let them return to the LORD, that he may have mercy on them, and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon. 8 For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways, says the LORD. 9 For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.
Psalm Psalm 63:1–8
1 O God, you are my God; eagerly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you, my flesh faints for you, as in a dry and weary land where there is no water. 2 Therefore I have gazed upon you in your holy place, that I might behold your power and your glory. 3 For your steadfast love is better than life itself; my lips shall give you praise. 4 So will I bless you as long as I live and lift up my hands in your name. 5 My spirit is content, as with the richest of foods, and my mouth praises you with joyful lips, 6when I remember you upon my bed, and meditate on you in the night watches. 7For you have been my helper, and under the shadow of your wings I will rejoice. 8My whole being clings to you; your right hand holds me fast.
Second Reading 1 Corinthians 10:1–13
1 I do not want you to be unaware, brothers and sisters, that our ancestors were all under the cloud, and all passed through the sea, 2 and all were baptized into Moses in the cloud and in the sea, 3 and all ate the same spiritual food, 4 and all drank the same spiritual drink. For they drank from the spiritual rock that followed them, and the rock was Christ. 5 Nevertheless, God was not pleased with most of them, and they were struck down in the wilderness. 6 Now these things occurred as examples for us, so that we might not desire evil as they did. 7 Do not become idolaters as some of them did; as it is written, “The people sat down to eat and drink, and they rose up to play.” 8 We must not indulge in sexual immorality as some of them did, and twenty-three thousand fell in a single day. 9 We must not put Christ to the test, as some of them did, and were destroyed by serpents. 10 And do not complain as some of them did, and were destroyed by the destroyer. 11 These things happened to them to serve as an example, and they were written down to instruct us, on whom the ends of the ages have come. 12 So if you think you are standing, watch out that you do not fall. 13 No testing has overtaken you that is not common to everyone. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tested beyond your strength, but with the testing he will also provide the way out so that you may be able to endure it.
Gospel Luke 13:1–9
1 At that very time there were some present who told him about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices. 2 He asked them, “Do you think that because these Galileans suffered in this way they were worse sinners than all other Galileans? 3 No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish as they did. 4 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? 5 No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish just as they did.” 6 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. 7 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?’ 8 He replied, ‘Sir, let it alone for one more year, until I dig around it and put manure on it. 9 If it bears fruit next year, well and good; but if not, you can cut it down.'”
God doesn’t expect a fig tree to grow Bananas
A few years ago, while I was still in Seminary, I borrowed a book from a classmate to do some research for an assignment. As I read through it, I was intrigued to find parts of the book underlined with the letters YBH written in the margin. When I returned the book to the owner, I asked him what the YBH meant. The owner replied that the underlined paragraphs were sections of the book that he basically agreed with. They gave him insights on the subject he was studying and pointed out truths that he incorporated into his paper. The letters YBH stood for “Yes, but how?” The phrase came from a professor, I would later have, who used to ask the question in class.
After reflecting on these entries I discovered that those three letters could also be writ on the margins of ours souls. For example, I ought to know how to take better care of myself, but how? I know I ought to spend more time in scripture reading and prayer, but how? I know I ought to be more sensitive to others, more loving of my spouse and family, more understanding of the weaknesses of others, but how? These are all good qualities and we know that, but how can we acquire them? As Christ-centered, traditionally grounded Christians, we know what’s decreed in the 10 Commandments.
It’s a set of commands that God gave the people through Moses on how we’re to honor and respect God and treat others. But, nowhere in Decalogue are we commanded to follow these commands in love. We’re simply expected to follow them. God said; we do, that’s it. However, I think that the fact that we’re to do these from a perspective of love is implied. Of course, not everyone felts or feels the same, nor were they taught this in the Jewish tradition. This is why the rich young ruler who approached Jesus had a problem with Jesus’ teaching. (Mark 10:17-27) Jesus wasn’t teaching something new, He was simply clearing up some common misconceptions.
In Matthew chapter 26, Jesus added this clarification when the Pharisees came to test Him. When asked what the greatest commandment was, Jesus replied, “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” In short we’re to live our lives loving and caring for others as we love and care for ourselves. And this many of us do. We approach each day with the best of intentions to do so, but how? We’re afraid because we know where the road paved with only good intentions leads!
In this morning’s gospel lesson we hear Jesus’ parable of the fig tree, telling us to repent and bear good fruit. We know what the Christian life requires of us and yet, if we’re honest with ourselves, we also know how far short we fall. So the question that confronts us this morning is: “Yes, but how?” How do we live a life that is pleasing to God in the midst of our own sinfulness? It’s a dilemma that has confronted God’s people throughout the ages.
Even Saint Paul found himself trapped. In Romans 7 Paul writes: It seems to be a fact of life that when I want to do what’s right, I inevitably do what’s wrong. I love to do God’s will so far as my new redeemed Christian nature is concerned; but there’s something else deep within me, in my lower nature, that’s at war with my mind and wins the fight and makes me a slave to the sin that’s still within me. In my mind, I want to be God’s willing servant, but instead I find myself enslaved to sin. So you see how it is; my new life, the redeemed life in Christ, tells me to do right, but the old nature that’s still inside me, my sinful human self, the old Adam, loves to sin. What a terrible predicament we’re in! Who will free us from this slavery to sin?
Thank God! It’s already been done by Jesus Christ our Lord. He has set us free! And that’s one of the reasons why we observe Lent each year. This is why we talk about Lent being a time of reflection, of introspection, not only on how we fall short of what God asks of us, but also of the tremendous cost Jesus paid to set us free. It’s a time to admit our failures and weaknesses and truly come to God with contrite hearts. It’s the beginning of true respect for God and of living a life worthy of our calling.
“Repent,” Jesus says. “Acknowledge your sinfulness.” That’s the first step in beginning to live the Christian life. None of us is without fault. And yet how difficult it is for us to admit that. If we listen to the wisdom of this world, then we know better than to openly admit our wrongs. If we ever want to get ahead in this world and be accepted by our peers, it’s generally better to conceal our shortcomings and put on a good front for others.
Who goes into a job interview and declares, before you hire me I need to let you know a few things about myself. I have a habit of missing work, of criticizing my supervisors and others, and I really enjoy listening and spreading office gossip? We know that’s not the way to conduct oneself or how you land a job. Or, who goes on a date and confesses to the other person, “Listen. I have to tell you I tend to be difficult to live with, I’m lazy, and therefore a slob and I can be a real bore at times”? However imperfect we may be, we’ve learned from life around us that it’s better not to parade our imperfections out in public. As the little girl said to her classmate who had to sit in the corner, “To err is human, but to admit it is just plain stupid!”
Jesus’ statement for us to repent, somehow seems to us ironic, in this day and age when cheap grace is taught. For those who teach cheap grace, or that our sins are already forgiven, therefore we don’t have anything to worry about, that we don’t need to be penitent nor be concerned about doing our best each day, that sin is relative, they see this statement as satirical. Jesus was obviously talking to the overly pious religious leaders of the day; there’s no way that this statement was meant for us. After all Paul tells us that we are free in the Spirit. But we know better don’t we?
For those who teach that we can live however we want, that God understands, it seems odd, that instead of offering a word of support and understanding for our all-too-human tendency to cover up our wrongdoings, Jesus tells us to disclose the evil within us, to admit that we’ve failed. And the apostle John reinforces this command when he tells us the same thing very clearly in his first epistle when he wrote, “If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us. But if we confess our sin, God who is faith and just will forgive our sins and cleans us from all unrighteousness.”
Whoever we are, whatever we do, we all share one thing in common and that is that we are sinful. Saint Augustine once wrote, “Whatever we are, we are not what we ought to be.” Mark Twain, with his characteristic sense of humor, tells us how he understands that when he wrote, “Man was made at the end of the week, when God was tired.” The difference then is in how we react to our sinful nature and the sins we commit. Do we simply expect God to forgive us and move on like the Israelites of old who were sent into exile because they played the harlot as recorded in the book of Jeremiah? Or do we examine ourselves and truly repent with a desire to sin no more?
Repent, Jesus says, that’s the first step in the Christian life. Confess your sins before God and receive God’s forgiveness. In that sense, confession is good for the soul, true confession, not the kind of glib admission that says, “Sure I’ve sinned. Who hasn’t?” Jesus addressed this kind of attitude when He told the parable of the Pharisee and the Publican in Luke chapter 18. The Pharisee instead of recognizing his sin looked at the Publican and said thank God I’m not like him. It was the Publican who prayed be merciful to me a sinner who Jesus said went away justified.
True confession begins with a heartfelt remorse, a feeling of failure to live up to God’s love and a desire to reform. “Blessed are those who mourn,” Jesus said, and part of what He was speaking about is those who feel the pain of a guilty conscience and grieve in the awareness that we have failed to live up to the expectations of God and those around us.
Confession is good for the soul — yes, we know that — but how can we develop a true sense of heartfelt remorse for our sinfulness and a real desire to change our ways? Most of us are willing to confess our sins as long as we don’t have to change. We’re willing to admit to a blemish or two on our moral complexion, but nothing that cannot be cosmetically covered up with a coating of good manners. None of us wants to admit that our sinfulness may require God’s reconstructive surgery! After all, we like to think that God is happy with us the way we are and really only wants to make us to be happy with ourselves.
We think this, because most of us never really take seriously the concept of sin. I read recently an article about the difficulty a translator had in rendering the Bible into one of the African dialects. It seemed that the particular language had no suitable term for “sin.” Apparently the people who spoke that dialect lacked the concept. The closest the translator could come up with was a word that meant “something bad to eat.” For a lot of people that’s the extent of it.
Sin is a matter of taste. So what if “we are what we eat”? Taste is an individual matter and nobody has the right to tell another what to like or not like. And if sin is just a matter of taste, it certainly doesn’t require the radical solution of repentance. It’s easy for us to conclude that we aren’t truly bad when we compare ourselves to others. There are plenty of people worse than us. Besides, tough sayings, like those found in our gospel reading, need to be filtered by societal norms. If we can convince ourselves and enough people in society to change their view of what is and isn’t sin, then what used to be considered a sin no longer is. Look “the Spirit is doing a new thing”, as some want to forward. But we know this to be a trick of the devil.
The truth of our moral and spiritual condition becomes evident, only when we compare ourselves to Jesus; only when we accept the fact that the Bible interprets itself, not the norms of society and only when we accept the fact that God was serious when He said, thou shalt not. In the light of His life, our lives look awful!
Sure, terrible wrongdoing, grisly crimes, sins of passion and violence may not be part of our personal history–but what about our neglect of the poor, our passive acceptance of injustice toward others, our greed, our covetousness, our idolatry, our silence in the face of hurtful gossip, our failure to reverence God and keep the Sabbath holy as we ought? What about that? When we look at our lives in the light of Jesus’ love, even our best, our righteousness is, as the Scriptures tell us, like “filthy rags.”
Confession is good for the soul, we know that, and it’s the first step in beginning to live the Christian life, and the recognition that without God we are incomplete. Sin isn’t a matter of taste. It’s sampling the forbidden fruit. It’s taking poison into our lives, and the only antidote for sin is repentance. We need to repent of our sinfulness, receive God’s forgiveness, and produce the fruit that God desires. We need the spiritual strength and renewal the confession can give us.
Remember, Jesus isn’t demanding anything that we cannot produce. He doesn’t ask the fig tree to produce bananas. He doesn’t expect the fig tree to grow tall as an oak or be fragrant as a cedar. He’s only asking it to be what it is, to do what it ought: produce figs. You and I have differing gifts. Some have wonderful singing voices. Others have graceful bodies. Some are artists, others are good with numbers, and others still are good with people. Each of us has our own unique gifts. That’s why Paul referred to the church as a body; many gifts, one Spirit. The miracle that happens is that through repentance and forgiveness, those gifts are released for the good of God and others around us.
When we acknowledge our sinfulness and receive God’s forgiveness, God releases us from the power of sin. And only when we’re free from sin do we have the possibility to become who God has created us to be — children of God, young and old, each able to produce the fruits of faith. Remember Saint Paul’s words: “What a terrible predicament I am in! Who will free me from this slavery to sin? Thank God! It has already been done by Jesus Christ my Lord. He has set me free.”
That’s the key to our dilemma, the answer to our question, “Yes, but how?” How do we live the life of faith we’re called to live as followers of Christ? How can we do what we ought to do? The key to living the life “worthy of our calling”, as children of God, is to remember that God has already set us free! In Christ Jesus we are free! We’re free to be who God has made us to be. It’s up to us to get on with it. We only need allow Christ to live in us and take control of our lives.
Sometimes we think that when we give up control of our lives to Christ, we’re no longer responsible for them. But just the opposite is true. When we turn our lives over to God, allow Christ to direct us, then we become truly responsible for ourselves. Jesus’ parable of the fig tree calls us to take responsibility for ourselves, for God gives us the key.
Repent, Jesus says. Confess our sins and allow the power of God to live within us. Allow God to enable us to live as we ought. Let Jesus take possession of us and live in Him. This is why I love Lutheran liturgy; we have our altar call at the beginning of the service. We have the opportunity each time we gather to examine our lives, to confess our sins before God and each other and to receive the assurance of God’s forgiveness for all who are penitent.
Fritz Kreisler, the great violinist, expresses it this way. He says, “I have not the slightest consciousness of what my fingers are doing when I play. I concentrate on the ideal of the music that I hear in my head and I try to come as near to that as I can. I don’t think of the mechanics at all. You might say that a musician who has to think of the mechanics is not ready for public performance yet.” Saint Paul is telling us the same thing.
The violinist’s fingers may still make a mistake now and then, just as we may still make mistakes as we live out our lives. But when our hearts and minds are tied to the Spirit of Christ, when we’ve been released from sin by repentance and forgiveness, when we hold steady the example of Jesus in our lives, our hearts and minds will move to the melody of God’s love. The key, however, begins with repentance and confession. For there we receive the release we need, there we’re filled with the power of forgiveness, there we find the answer to the question that plagues us, “Yes, but how?” Paul answers this for us in Philippians 4:13, I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.
Amen.