Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
This question was on the minds of those who came to Jesus, as we read in Luke 13. They came to Jesus and told Him about a religious and political atrocity— some Galileans who were murdered in the temple as they brought their sacrifices forward to the priest. Their own blood mingled with that of the sacrifice they were bringing. "What do you think, Jesus? Isn't that outrageous?" "Shouldn't we do something?"
"Well... I don't know," Jesus says. "Do you think that these Galileans were worse sinners than all the other Galileans, because they suffered in this way?" (v.2). In other words, what do you think? Do sin and suffering go together, like crime and punishment? If you act badly, will you at some point have to pay the piper? And by the same token, if something bad does happen to you, doesn't that mean that you must have done something to deserve it? It's pretty simple moral arithmetic. In the book of Job, that's how the three friends analyzed Job's misery. Since he's suffering, he must have sinned. That's also how Jesus' disciples reacted to a man born blind. "Who sinned, this man or his parents?"
After tragedies, whether they be manmade or natural (terrorists or tornados), there are always some who will point the finger at all those "sinners" out there who brought this calamity on themselves. After the earthquake in Haiti last month, maybe you heard about how Pat Robertson blamed the earthquake on the Haitans making some sort of "pact with the devil?" I mean, this is wrong, but yet it's something we all have a tendency to do, to try to read the headlines like tea leaves, trying to figure out "what God is trying to tell us."
What about the Galileans? Jesus was asked. "What do you think of this tragedy, Jesus?" "Is God on our side our not?" "Why did God let this happen?" I love the way Jesus answers. Knowing how politically charged the Galilean issue was, knowing that some would rightly blame the Galileans because of their political activities, Jesus neatly sidesteps it. "Forget about the Galileans and Pontius Pilate for a second," He says. "What about the tower in Siloam that toppled over and killed eighteen people?" The insurance companies call those things "acts of God." Freakish accidents. Being at the wrong place at the wrong time. Again, Jesus poses the question: "What do you think? Do you think they were worse offenders than all the others who lived in Jerusalem?"
That's a tough one, isn't it? A random tower randomly toppling on random people? "Innocent" people in the wrong place at the wrong time. It could have happened to anyone. The ground starts to shake in Haiti and Chili... a deadly bus crash kills student athletes... a pain in your throat turns out to be a malignant tumor. And we wonder why? Why does this happen? What does this mean? What's God trying to tell us? How do we respond?
"Unless you repent, you will all likewise perish." The response to sudden and tragic death, Jesus tells us —whether political, religious, manmade or natural— is repentance. To repent is to re-think, to come to a different mind. To repent is to recognize... recognize that death, even tragic death, isn't the worst thing that can happen to you. Death is the sign that things are not right between God and us. "The wages of sin is death" (Rom. 6:23) and unless we repent, we will be worse off than the Galileans Pilate had executed and worse off than those eighteen bystanders killed by the collapsed tower.
The issue, you see, isn't about who sinned, or who deserved what? The issue is God's justice! The issue is what we deserve. Ezekiel 18? "The soul that sins will die" (v.20)? That's God's justice! "The free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus" (Rom. 6:23)? That's God's mercy. God hates sin and kills the sinner... that is His justice. God also forgives sin and redeems the sinner because of Jesus. That is God's mercy.
"How could God allow those noble Galileans to die?" "How could He allow His temple to be desecrated?" Behind that thinking is the idea that people should get what they deserve. But stop and think— do you really want God to dish out this justice to you? And if you think that would be a good idea, maybe you haven't spent enough Lenten time with the ten commandments. Look into their mirror of God's Law, and then ask yourself, "Do I really want to get what I deserve?" Because hell is where people get what they deserve.
By contrast, however, the great Christian truth is that in God's mercy, Jesus Christ got what we deserve. First Thessalonians 5: "God has not destined us for wrath, but to obtain salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ" (v.9)... Jesus Christ, "who died for us" (v.10). According to God's Law, we get what we deserve. But according to God's mercy, according to God's love, Jesus got what we deserve, and we receive forgiveness.
To repent, then, means to stop! Stop trying to justify ourselves. Stop trying to make our case before the bar of divine justice. Once we saw God as judge and ourselves as good, upright, religious people deserving justice from a just God. But now in repentance, our minds are changed; our viewpoint is changed. We see God as Savior and ourselves as sinners seeking mercy. And we trust the promise of God in the death and resurrection of Jesus, that by the blood of Jesus undeserving sinners like you and I... are forgiven!
Jesus drives the point home with a parable. A man plants a fig tree. It lives, it grows, but it never bears fruit. In frustration, the owner, who is the spokesman for God's justice, says, "This tree is worthless. No figs?!? It's a waste of good soil and space. It doesn't even give any decent shade. Cut it down." That's how it is with the Law– produce or die. Every favor to those who keep the commandments. But if you fail, well, the axe is laid to the root my friend (Luke 3:9). That's how the Law works. The good are rewarded, the bad are punished. It sounds good until you realize that we are the fruitless fig tree. that the axe is about to be swung at our root.
The gardener, though, who is the spokesman for God's mercy, has a different plan. "Hold on. Put the axe down for a minute. I've got an idea. Let's forgive it its lack of fruit. "Let's forgive the tree," he says. "Instead of chopping it down, I'll dig around its roots and put on some fertilizer and we'll see what happens." That's how it goes with God's mercy— forgive and feed. Forgive us with his suffering at Calvary, and feed us with the faith-building Word. Forgive us by his sacrifice on the cross, and feed us with the cleansing waters of Holy Baptism. Forgive us by his Passion and death, and feed us with the Body and Blood of Christ in the Holy Supper.
God's Law, you see, is pretty clear. Apart from Christ, we all will get what we deserve. But His Gospel, the good news of Christ? The Gospel is that the master of the vineyard is also a Lord of Mercy. All tragedies — whether they be earthquakes or massacres or collapsing buildings— they all point to one thing: to a cross on a hill outside Jerusalem and a dark Friday afternoon when God's justice was poured out on Jesus... out of mercy for us. Buildings collapsed on people in Haiti and crushed them, but the cross of Jesus lifts up the world (see John 12:32). The death of Christ is the one Death wherein every death finds its meaning. This is the one Death that embraces all of us— every victim of oppression, of genocide, of violence and tragedy. Every death finds its meaning, its purpose, its fulfillment in the death of Jesus on the cross.
Let's pose the question from the beginning again. Look at Jesus in His awful death. Consider the cruelty, the injustice, the suffering? Was he a worse offender than all the others? No. He was innocent, sinless, perfect. And yet. For our sake —in our place— for us and for our salvation, He became our sin. He embodied our sin in His sinless body, so that we might receive the forgiveness of sins. So that we might receive mercy, instead of justice. Jesus was the one fruitful tree cut down to save the fruitless. His Word, His Body and His blood are food for all the fruitless fig trees of this world, sinners the likes of you and me, giving forgiveness and life.
How do we respond to tragedy? When you hear of tragic death on the news, or when disaster hits dangerously close to home, there's only one thing you can do. Repent. Confess your sin. Seek the Lord's mercy. Be forgiven. Be fed.
Dear beloved brothers and sisters in Christ, let the tyrants rage and the towers fall. We all must die one day —of one thing or another— whether tragically or quietly. But with Jesus' forgiveness, trusting in His mercy and fed with His body and blood, you will not perish, but live forever. In Jesus' name, Amen.
The peace of Christ which surpasses all understanding, guard and keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.
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