Luke 13:1-9; 31-35
The cell phone video opens on a beautiful evening in an open air pavilion at a resort. There’s an older couple sitting on the edge of a sculptured fountain enjoying the night air, and a young woman with long blonde hair – wearing what must be her “smart black dress” – asks them to move.
Our videographer is shocked and keeps filming as the young woman takes command of the fountain as her personal stage for the perfect vacation selfie. Her photographer appears to be her boyfriend, who endures her constant dissatisfaction as she directs him – up until the moment when she slips and falls into the fountain to her embarrassment and to the joy of the small crowd that has been watching the show from tables nearby. Our scene ends with the videographer looking in the camera and observing, “Now, that’s karma!
Apart from the ethical issues of taking videos of people and posting them online without their permission, I have to say that it’s kind of hard to disagree with her assessment, except that – as a follower of Jesus – I don’t really believe in karma. Don’t get me wrong, I believe that there are consequences for our actions. We may not always see it, but you die hard MCU fans will know what I mean when I say, “The bill always comes due.”
So, what do we believe in, as followers of Jesus? What’s the dogma that we put more faith in than the idea that “what goes around comes around?” I’ll let you insert whatever “dog vs. car” pun you want here, but I think Jesus answers us in scripture today with one word, “repentance.”
In the midst of his teaching and healing he is interrupted by some group, most likely Pharisees, that think they have a real zinger. “Too bad about those Gallilleans, huh? They must’ve done something pretty horrible to have their own blood mixed in with pagen sacrifices?” Let’s be clear. Concern is not being expressed for the terrible act or judgement being cast on the one who did it. This is nothing short of shaming the victim, and it comes from a theology of power and judgement that has no room for grace and mercy. It’s essentially karma.
Jesus responds as he often does and counters with another example. Neither of these instances are recorded anywhere else, but the example Jesus gives seems more accidental than intentional. His point is this, it doesn’t matter what you’ve done. It doesn’t matter what’s been done to you. What matters is your relationship with God. What matters is our willingness to let go of everything that defines us apart from God’s love, so that everything that we do and become is an expression of God’s love.
He doesn’t stop there, of course. Jesus is not really one one to say that “it’s all about you and your God.” That’s why he moves on to the parable about the landowner and the fig tree. While he doesn’t explain this parable, many have said, and I agree, that the only way to understand this parable is to see the characters in ways that match up with the character of God expressed throughout scripture.
If we see God as the land owner, then we see a God who is fed up with us and wanting to be rid of us. If we see God as the Gardener, then we see a God who is pleading for us to fulfill our potential – even if it requires waiting and fertilizing. There’s a whole ‘nother sermon in that fertilizer, but for now I’ll just say that no matter how bad things may get, God can use it for your benefit and for the benefit of others. In fact, that is God’s intention, even when we go about things in a different way that God intends.
I suppose you might say that God is pleading with God’s self, if God is both the Judge and the Redeemer, but what God really wants is for us to bear fruit. The fruit God wants is not only our repentance, but everything that comes with it. Those who first heard this parable would have known that.
They would have known that the fig is used in scripture to describe the wellbeing of God’s people, whether it is economically or medicinally or simply to describe the safety and security of leaning into the providence of God. They might have even known the urgency of Jesus’s plea, because of John the Baptizer’s claim that “the axe is already swinging for the root of the tree!” They would have known that Jesus was telling them, as God’s people, the time for true repentance is right now – and that part hasn’t changed a bit. The time for true repentance is always before us, for we are always in need of God’s grace.
Bear that in mind as we skip down to the end of Chapter 13. Here we get a sense of what Luke was trying to say through this section of the journey of Jesus, on his way to Jerusalem. Jesus starts out with this kind of braggadocious dare when he hears that Herod is after him. “You tell that fox for me…” which I think is really interesting, since last week he told some “would be followers” that “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.”
It was probably a common phrase, but was he calling Herod out for hiding in his palace, or behind the banner of Rome? Maybe. Anyway Jesus throws down a gauntlet, saying that his schedule is a little too packed to worry about Herod. It feels pretty high drama, though, as he shifts from this public proclamation about healing and teaching to a kind of fourth wall soliloquy, “Oh, Jerusalem, how long have I longed to gather your children like a hen with her brood?”
While it may seem odd for Jesus to trail off like this, it’s important to remember that he’s been speaking and teaching and healing within the context of a broken system. His lament is as much because of the losses of life and liberty all around him as they are for the fact that he could never physically restore everyone, apart from what he must do in Jerusalem, and that what must be done requires not only his death but also the repentance of all involved.
Mitzi J. Smith, Professor of New Testament Studies at Columbia Seminary writes the following as a commentary on his lament and the way it calls for both an individual and a collective response.
“Violence inflicted on a collective or nation from external forces usually provokes lament. Yet when the violence is inflicted by internal forces and authorities, lament is slow to come, especially when masses of people have been convinced that the violence is necessary or when the perpetrators are convinced that they are doing God’s will and acting in the best interest of the nation. Those in power benefit from the internal violence against the marginalized and poor, so drown out the cries of the oppressed with lies that promote fear of change and equality. The consciousness of the nation must be awakened.”
She then goes on to say, “God anointed Jerusalem and its leaders to be good and just towards its citizens and neighbors, to embody and be bearers of good news—a living wage, affordable livable housing, the incarcerated are rehabilitated and freed, the blind and otherwise dis-eased have access to quality affordable healthcare and clean water and sanitation, and all forms of oppression are eliminated.”
If that sounds a little too pointedly political for you, please understand that this is her contextual rephrasing of both Luke 4:16-19 and Isaiah 61:1.
The cell phone video opens on a beautiful evening in an open air pavilion at a resort. There’s an older couple sitting on the edge of a sculptured fountain enjoying the night air, and a young woman with long blonde hair – wearing what must be her “smart black dress” – asks them to move.
Our videographer is shocked and keeps filming as the young woman takes command of the fountain as her personal stage for the perfect vacation selfie. Her photographer appears to be her boyfriend, who endures her constant dissatisfaction as she directs him – up until the moment when she slips and falls into the fountain to her embarrassment and to the joy of the small crowd that has been watching the show from tables nearby. Our scene ends with the videographer looking in the camera and observing, “Now, that’s karma!
Apart from the ethical issues of taking videos of people and posting them online without their permission, I have to say that it’s kind of hard to disagree with her assessment, except that – as a follower of Jesus – I don’t really believe in karma. Don’t get me wrong, I believe that there are consequences for our actions. We may not always see it, but you die hard MCU fans will know what I mean when I say, “The bill always comes due.”
So, what do we believe in, as followers of Jesus? What’s the dogma that we put more faith in than the idea that “what goes around comes around?” I’ll let you insert whatever “dog vs. car” pun you want here, but I think Jesus answers us in scripture today with one word, “repentance.”
In the midst of his teaching and healing he is interrupted by some group, most likely Pharisees, that think they have a real zinger. “Too bad about those Gallilleans, huh? They must’ve done something pretty horrible to have their own blood mixed in with pagen sacrifices?” Let’s be clear. Concern is not being expressed for the terrible act or judgement being cast on the one who did it. This is nothing short of shaming the victim, and it comes from a theology of power and judgement that has no room for grace and mercy. It’s essentially karma.
Jesus responds as he often does and counters with another example. Neither of these instances are recorded anywhere else, but the example Jesus gives seems more accidental than intentional. His point is this, it doesn’t matter what you’ve done. It doesn’t matter what’s been done to you. What matters is your relationship with God. What matters is our willingness to let go of everything that defines us apart from God’s love, so that everything that we do and become is an expression of God’s love.
He doesn’t stop there, of course. Jesus is not really one one to say that “it’s all about you and your God.” That’s why he moves on to the parable about the landowner and the fig tree. While he doesn’t explain this parable, many have said, and I agree, that the only way to understand this parable is to see the characters in ways that match up with the character of God expressed throughout scripture.
If we see God as the land owner, then we see a God who is fed up with us and wanting to be rid of us. If we see God as the Gardener, then we see a God who is pleading for us to fulfill our potential – even if it requires waiting and fertilizing. There’s a whole ‘nother sermon in that fertilizer, but for now I’ll just say that no matter how bad things may get, God can use it for your benefit and for the benefit of others. In fact, that is God’s intention, even when we go about things in a different way that God intends.
I suppose you might say that God is pleading with God’s self, if God is both the Judge and the Redeemer, but what God really wants is for us to bear fruit. The fruit God wants is not only our repentance, but everything that comes with it. Those who first heard this parable would have known that.
They would have known that the fig is used in scripture to describe the wellbeing of God’s people, whether it is economically or medicinally or simply to describe the safety and security of leaning into the providence of God. They might have even known the urgency of Jesus’s plea, because of John the Baptizer’s claim that “the axe is already swinging for the root of the tree!” They would have known that Jesus was telling them, as God’s people, the time for true repentance is right now – and that part hasn’t changed a bit. The time for true repentance is always before us, for we are always in need of God’s grace.
Bear that in mind as we skip down to the end of Chapter 13. Here we get a sense of what Luke was trying to say through this section of the journey of Jesus, on his way to Jerusalem. Jesus starts out with this kind of braggadocious dare when he hears that Herod is after him. “You tell that fox for me…” which I think is really interesting, since last week he told some “would be followers” that “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.”
It was probably a common phrase, but was he calling Herod out for hiding in his palace, or behind the banner of Rome? Maybe. Anyway Jesus throws down a gauntlet, saying that his schedule is a little too packed to worry about Herod. It feels pretty high drama, though, as he shifts from this public proclamation about healing and teaching to a kind of fourth wall soliloquy, “Oh, Jerusalem, how long have I longed to gather your children like a hen with her brood?”
While it may seem odd for Jesus to trail off like this, it’s important to remember that he’s been speaking and teaching and healing within the context of a broken system. His lament is as much because of the losses of life and liberty all around him as they are for the fact that he could never physically restore everyone, apart from what he must do in Jerusalem, and that what must be done requires not only his death but also the repentance of all involved.
Mitzi J. Smith, Professor of New Testament Studies at Columbia Seminary writes the following as a commentary on his lament and the way it calls for both an individual and a collective response.
“Violence inflicted on a collective or nation from external forces usually provokes lament. Yet when the violence is inflicted by internal forces and authorities, lament is slow to come, especially when masses of people have been convinced that the violence is necessary or when the perpetrators are convinced that they are doing God’s will and acting in the best interest of the nation. Those in power benefit from the internal violence against the marginalized and poor, so drown out the cries of the oppressed with lies that promote fear of change and equality. The consciousness of the nation must be awakened.”
She then goes on to say, “God anointed Jerusalem and its leaders to be good and just towards its citizens and neighbors, to embody and be bearers of good news—a living wage, affordable livable housing, the incarcerated are rehabilitated and freed, the blind and otherwise dis-eased have access to quality affordable healthcare and clean water and sanitation, and all forms of oppression are eliminated.”
If that sounds a little too pointedly political for you, please understand that this is her contextual rephrasing of both Luke 4:16-19 and Isaiah 61:1.
“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
because he has anointed me
to bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives
and recovery of sight to the blind,
to let the oppressed go free,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”
If we have anything to repent as a people, it is that we have not expected ourselves to bear fruit. That’s not to say that we haven’t done anything good. For a congregation that had 65-70 in attendance on a good day before COVID 19 and have been worshiping online for almost a year, we’ve done some amazing things! We’ve maintained our Meals on Wheels program to bring food and kindness to homebound elderly (in fact we need drivers). We’ve housed AmeriCorps volunteers for disaster recovery in Lake Charles (where there is still a LOT of work to do), and we’ve started new initiatives like collecting food for the Campus Cupboard with Wesley United Campus Ministry and our COVID 19 Memorial Flags!
These are great things, but it doesn’t change the fact that we live in a town with rising poverty that often falls on racial lines. Likewise, the restoration still needed in Lake Charles is largely in the African American community, and even though we have some of the most dedicated and concerned police officers around (believe me, I’ve talked to several), there are ongoing concerns about the way in which policing takes place in our community and many others.
We can’t solve these problems by ignoring them or pointing fingers. We can only solve them together. We can only solve them through repentance and openness to the way of Jesus. The way of Jesus leads us, every time, to self-sacrifice and to the cross. The way of Jesus doesn’t expect cosmic reward or punishment or indifference. It anticipates grace and mercy and shows us the way forward together. At least I pray it may be so for me, and for you, and to God be the glory – now and always – Amen!
because he has anointed me
to bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives
and recovery of sight to the blind,
to let the oppressed go free,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”
If we have anything to repent as a people, it is that we have not expected ourselves to bear fruit. That’s not to say that we haven’t done anything good. For a congregation that had 65-70 in attendance on a good day before COVID 19 and have been worshiping online for almost a year, we’ve done some amazing things! We’ve maintained our Meals on Wheels program to bring food and kindness to homebound elderly (in fact we need drivers). We’ve housed AmeriCorps volunteers for disaster recovery in Lake Charles (where there is still a LOT of work to do), and we’ve started new initiatives like collecting food for the Campus Cupboard with Wesley United Campus Ministry and our COVID 19 Memorial Flags!
These are great things, but it doesn’t change the fact that we live in a town with rising poverty that often falls on racial lines. Likewise, the restoration still needed in Lake Charles is largely in the African American community, and even though we have some of the most dedicated and concerned police officers around (believe me, I’ve talked to several), there are ongoing concerns about the way in which policing takes place in our community and many others.
We can’t solve these problems by ignoring them or pointing fingers. We can only solve them together. We can only solve them through repentance and openness to the way of Jesus. The way of Jesus leads us, every time, to self-sacrifice and to the cross. The way of Jesus doesn’t expect cosmic reward or punishment or indifference. It anticipates grace and mercy and shows us the way forward together. At least I pray it may be so for me, and for you, and to God be the glory – now and always – Amen!
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