Luke 13:1-9
"Your
fountain, O Lord, is hidden from those who do not thirst for you." St. Ephrem the Syrian
There is a fine line, a "hidden
boundary" between the patience and the wrath of the Holy One. When we are young we are taught - or should have
been taught - the difference between right and wrong, and as we grow these
lessons take shape as we learn WHY something is wrong and WHY something is
right. Yet as we get older and become a
little more worldly and think ourselves to be wiser, the rules seem to change -
sometimes we even change the rules ourselves according to our own lives and our
own needs and desires.
"Why" something is wrong becomes
harder to define especially if that something works well for us and does not
seem to hurt others, or it becomes conditional according to the kind of man or
woman we grow to be; tempered not only by how we were raised but also by the
many choices we've made along the way - and in whose name these choices were
made.
Once we become conditioned over a period
of time to a certain way of thinking, it becomes very difficult to imagine an
alternative. Words that once stung in
church - sin, wrath, repentance, judgment - no longer carry the same weight
they once did because another word - grace - has pervaded church thinking. And it's hard not to think in terms of grace
because when life seems impossible, grace is really all we have!
Yet even grace no longer commands the
respect it once did because some elements of the Church have become very
careless with that word and the concept it conveys. Rather than representing a moment when we
become aware of our sin and choose to turn away from that sin because we know
it displeases our Lord, grace has become more of an excuse we claim for
ourselves "just as I am" to continue in sin while still claiming
salvation. "Whatever", "oh
well", and "don't judge me" have become the norm, and
"sin" has become a foreign word; a strange concept we cannot fully
grasp because we've made sin "relative".
It is the strangest twist of irony that
our own governor signed a pro-gun bill that crossed his desk as a matter of
constitutional priority, but he vetoed an anti-abortion bill that would have
protected an unborn child from a gruesome and painful death after 20
weeks. It's all about money, you see,
because that bill would have almost certainly invited lawsuits. Rather than stand up for what is morally
right and take measures to protect ALL people, however, the governor chose the
"path of least resistance" to protect the Constitution. (The Arkansas Legislature overrode the veto)
I don't care about your political
affiliation or social beliefs about certain issues, and it is certainly not the
point. It is about that cursed
"path of least resistance" that gets most of us - perhaps all of us -
in serious spiritual trouble because that path seems so ... normal. Yet a poet wrote these words as it comes to a
"normal" life in the Almighty: "How
far can one go on in sin? How long will
mercy spare? Where does grace end and
where begin the confines of despair?"
Where, indeed.
Jesus' whole point and purpose in this
passage from Luke is entirely about
the necessity (not "option") of repentance - and the Lord's
promise to His people through the prophet Isaiah
is also a call to "turn around" from that "path of least
resistance". According to Mark, Jesus' very ministry after His
baptism and time of testing in the wilderness began with these words: "The
time is fulfilled and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe
in the Gospel" (1:15).
The most haunting part of that poetic
passage is the question, "How far can one go in sin?" because if we
are so comfortable with our chosen "path of least resistance" that we
cannot tell the difference between "sin" and
"righteousness", or if we ignore sin altogether in the name of
"grace", how can we even know we are in a state of sin if our lives
seem so right? How can we know what
constitutes sin in the first place, since the dominant secular culture has so
overwhelmed even the Church under the blanket terms of "tolerance" and
"diversity"? If we do not know
or even acknowledge sin, we cannot know what repentance even means, let alone
how important it truly is. That word,
"repent", is an intentional focus of Jesus' lesson AND announcement.
So we should rather consider repentance
itself - rather than magic prayers and empty creeds - as the genuine act of
contrition; it is the only bona fide "profession of faith" because
it is the only evidence that "faith" itself even exists! It is the only act that goes beyond merely
saying, "I'm sorry"; repentance makes the intentional and purposeful correction - AND - it is the "profession
of faith" everyone can truly SEE rather than simply HEAR. Repentance compels us to act BEFORE we get
caught!
Repentance is an intentional reordering
of our whole life. Repentance may cost
us friends, repentance may cost us money, repentance may even cost us our jobs
if we truly come clean and reorder our lives because we cannot simply tell the
Lord "I'm sorry" but leave others in the wake of harm we've caused
directly or indirectly - and sin always does this! ALWAYS!
This is the overarching theme of Yom Kippur, the Jewish Day of Atonement. This Day is not simply an "event" that
happens; it is actually prepared for in advance with fasting, prayer, serious
contemplation of one's life, and making right the wrongs caused in the lives of
others by our sin.
Clearly we cannot undo the past. As the saying goes, we cannot "unring a
bell". Yet there is nothing that
prevents us from making peace with those we've harmed, and there is nothing
scriptural or doctrinal that prevents us from making amends where we
can. Some elements of Protestant
theology would suggest these acts have a "works" flavor to them; that
we would by these acts of contrition try to "earn" favor with our
Lord. Yet we cannot dismiss Jesus' very
words to His disciples as recorded in Matthew's
gospel: "If you bring your gift to the altar and there remember that your
brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there before the
altar and go your way. First be
reconciled to your brother or sister, and then come and offer your
gift" (5:23-24).
It is, I think, a colossal mistake (and
yet a common one) to believe that Jesus' Death on the Cross once and for all
time removed our need to reflect and repent constantly. Think of it this way. Jesus teaches in both examples in Luke: "unless you repent, you will
all perish like they did".
Notice our Lord did NOT continue to say, 'but after I've been killed and resurrected, never mind'. No, our Lord taught us just as Isaiah tried to teach the people of
Israel that the time to come clean and come near is short. It is implied by the Holy Father's words
through Isaiah that the time to
repent and draw near is not infinite: "Seek the Lord WHILE He may be found;
call upon Him WHILE He is near".
The overwhelming implication is that there will come a time when our
Lord cannot be found by us; a time when we will not be able to
call upon Him.
Jesus' words are no less foreboding, and
He is offering no excuses or alibis; He's not even offering to "save
us" from ourselves. The parable
even seems to be "time-stamped"; i.e., "Sir, let the
[non-fruiting-bearing tree] alone for one year more, until I dig around it and
put manure on it. If it bears fruit next
year, well and good; but if not, you can cut it down."
If our Lord will not even accept our
"gifts" to Him while we are consciously aware of harm we've done, how
can we reasonably suggest He will accept US?
It's not about "works".
It's not about "getting saved". It is entirely about "doing right
things" and "being righteous". It is about the demands of discipleship. It is the difference between a hollow prayer memorized
from the mind and a hallowed life emanating from the heart. Our Lord demands one - and rejects the
other. Which will be ours? AMEN.
No comments:
Post a Comment