SermonCliffNote: The Truth Isn't Finished with Us

Abridged sermon from Sunday, March 3 based on the text from Luke 13.1-9

Blood mingled with sacrifice – is this horror the act of God?  the people ask Jesus.  Apparently Pilate had ordered the slaughter of some Jewish people while they worshiped God.  It is monstrous.  And the people want to know why this happened?

Why did God allow the desecration of God’s own holy place?  Was it because those killed were somehow to blame?  Was this divine retribution?

Jesus’ answer is short and to the point, “No.”

No – the people who died at Pilate’s hand are no worse than anyone else.  No – the people who died in an accident when a tower collapsed were no worse than anyone else.  No – Jesus says elsewhere in the gospels, the man who was blind was no worse than anyone else – and neither were his parents.  No, says Jesus – this is not about just deserts.

This can seem quite far removed from us – in our time, surely no one suggests some sort of divine retribution as the cause of murder and mayhem . . . do we?

Well, actually, yes we do.  Twin towers fell literally from the sky on September 11, 2011 and religious leaders Pat Robertson and Jerry Falwell blame homosexuals and me.  Well, they blamed feminists and I am a feminist, so there you have it – 9/11 was my fault.  More to the point, I’m sure there were some feminists and gay folk in those Towers.  Must have been their fault.

Children are murdered at their school desks and Mike Hukabee blames the absence of prayer in school.  He blames (at least implicitly) the victims.

When someone’s house burns down or is swept away in a flood, our response – whether we’re generous to help or not – is as much governed by our own assessment of their worthiness as by their need.

Jesus makes it clear to his listeners and to us: tragedy strikes where it strikes.  We are not to blame for being murdered; we are not to blame when a tower falls down on our heads.  And neither is God.

But, says Jesus, that is not to say that we are not to blame for anything.  For we are responsible for one thing, and one thing only: our own lives lived.

Jesus’ call to repent is heard by some as a warning about the waiting fires of hell: get busy or worse will happen to you!

Others hear a clarion call to life in all its fulness.

What I hear lies somewhere in between, perhaps.  I hear Jesus saying that all things, all creatures have their time.  And that time has a purpose: fruit bearing.  We’re an orchard and it’s our job to behave as the trees we are.  If we don’t, well, the fact is we’re no longer trees – we’re something, but not trees.

Jesus’ words are a reminder that so long as we live, choice remains before us.  And his challenge is that we choose well.  And if we choose well, if we ‘choose’ to inhabit God, the fruit, the evidence in lives changed, will come.

In effect, Jesus says, “It’s not such a mystery: just look at your own life.  If it’s looking pretty barren just now, why don’t you spend some time with me?  Why don’t you just relax into me?  Why don’t you quit worrying about what everyone else thinks?  Why don’t you stop worrying all together?  And instead of worrying, why not just chill out with me?  Instead of making all those vows to change, why don’t you just be with me – change will come – I promise.  Why not give God time a try?”

Jesus says explicitly elsewhere in Luke that God is the God of the living.  God is about the business of life.  It’s God’s very purpose, if you will.  And God focus is a force to be reckoned with.  So if our purpose centers on not-life, God will not be thwarted.  If we reject God-life, God-life will nevertheless flourish.

Be the tree or be the mulch.  Either way, life will come.

A character in the novel Infinite Jest, by David Foster Wallace, a wise man sought out by a young man for advice when the young man is suffering greatly, observes, “The truth will set you free. But not until it is finished with you.”

The Truth isn’t finished with us yet.  We are all works in progress.  So long as there is life in us, there is work to be done.  Our problem is that we think the work is ours.  Not so.  The work is God’s.  And it is mighty.

It is the work that can turn a tired back into a giant strong enough to walk a sick child into the night.  It can take a broken heart and turn it into an inspiration for another wounded soul.  It can take a selfish heathen like me and make a preacher.

The work of God in our lives is never finished.  There is always pruning and more pruning.  And pruning hurts like the dickens, because, you see, The Truth is far from finished with us.

And oh, what good news that is.