Faith Lutheran
Church, Miltona, MN
February 28,
2016/Lent 3
Luke 13:1-9
In the name of Jesus.
Amen.
How quickly everything can change.
Two weeks ago a 79-year-old man was found dead in a
bed on a ranch down in Texas. It’s the
kind of thing that happens about 300,000 times every year in America: an elderly person with cardiovascular disease
dies at home or wherever he or she happens to be.
But this particular man, Antonin Scalia, wasn’t just
any 79-year-old man. He was the
longest-serving justice on the U.S. Supreme Court. When his heart stopped beating the campaign
for president of the United States took a new sharp turn, just like that.
News-hungry cable TV networks suddenly had a
juicy story-line to pursue: what would
happen when the current president, a Democrat, appointed a replacement for
Justice Scalia? Would the
Republican-controlled Senate confirm such an appointment before a new president
takes office?
How quickly everything can change.
One line in a news story about Justice Scalia’s death
caught my attention, though. In an
article exploring the question of whether an autopsy should have been performed
on Mr. Scalia’s body, a physician said (and I quote): “If you
are over 60 and are found dead in bed, most medical examiners’ offices don’t do
an autopsy unless there is some obvious trauma.”[1]
What grabbed me in that quote is that I am over 60. This physician was referring to persons like
me! He was saying that what happened to
Justice Scalia could happen to me. Along
with everyone else age 60 or older, I’m “in the zone,” the sudden death zone.
Life is fragile and fleeting. We simply don’t know when death could catch
up to us!
Yes, of course, that’s true….but for you and me
gathered together here at Faith Lutheran this morning—February 28, 2016—that did
NOT happen. We didn’t die this past
week. We lived to see another Sunday
morning, thanks be to God.
We’re still all here--still alive and kicking.
Why? Why do you
suppose that is? Why didn’t you die this
past week?
Maybe you’re just plain careful. You always dress for the weather, you don’t
smoke, you never drink and drive.
Or maybe the reason you’re still alive is that you
avoid heights, excessive speeds, hang-gliding, alligator-wrestling, the San
Andreas fault and sharp objects.
Why are you
still alive ... and here…on February 28, 2016?
Perhaps it’s due to all the ways you take good care of
yourself: watching your weight, blood pressure and cholesterol…eating a high-fiber,
low-fat, low-carbohydrate, low-taste diet…exercising vigorously at least three
times a week.
Why aren’t you dead yet?
Is it just that “your number isn’t up?”--as if we were
all standing around the J.C. Penney service counter waiting for the clerk to
call out the number on that slip in our hot little hands.
I ask you: Why is your body still occupying space and
time? Why are you still alive?
Our gospel lesson from Luke 13 offers a striking
response to this provocative question.
Jesus declares here that if you’re still alive it’s solely because the
One who made you and to whom you’ll someday return has decided to give you some
extra time to live.
God has granted you and me a totally-undeserved
reprieve—some bonus time to repent, be renewed by God’s grace and be of use to
our neighbors.
This scene in Luke 13 opens with one of those “ain’t
it awful” discussions we’ve all been part of—whenever we hash over the latest
natural disaster or outbreak of senseless violence.
“Ain’t it awful about those poor Galilean worshipers,
up in Jerusalem for the high holy days?
The gall of that murdering tyrant Pilate!--not just killing them, but
mixing their blood with their sacrifices--and right in the temple, no less?”
“And what about
that shocking construction accident? I
hear that that new tower over in Siloam simply collapsed without warning,
squashing those bystanders like ants.
The body count stands at eighteen right now, but they’re still sifting
through the rubble. Ain’t it awful? What’s this world coming to? Why do such things happen?”
On just about any weekday morning you can overhear
conversations just like these in the next booth at the café where you go for
coffee and conversation.
“Ain’t it awful about those six persons killed at
random last weekend by that crazy shooter in Kalamazoo, Michigan? Isn’t it shocking—those three folks gunned
down at that manufacturing plant down in Kansas? What’s this world coming to?”
Although we’d probably not say it out loud, we might
even wonder why these sorts of tragedies strike those “other people.” We might wonder (at least, to ourselves) what
they might have done or said to bring down such calamity upon themselves?
According to Jesus that’s the very last question that
should be on our minds! “Do you think
that (they) were worse sinners than all the others? I tell you, No; but unless you repent you
will all likewise perish.”
Tragedies that always seem to strike “somebody else”
are not occasions for armchair speculation or Monday-morning
quarterbacking.
They are, rather, opportunities for us to sit up
straight and take stock of our lives: our
lives that could be could be cut off just as suddenly, just as shockingly, just
as tragically.
When sudden deaths or other disasters strike, we should
ask NOT “Why them?” but rather, “Why not me?”
What am I still doing here--alive and kicking? For what reason am I still encumbering the
earth?
In response to that question, Jesus spins a yarn about
a fig tree in a vineyard–a fig tree that proved to be utterly unproductive--not
just for one or even two years, but over a span of three consecutive growing
seasons.
“Cut it down!” the hard-nosed, profit-minded owner of
the vineyard commands. “It’s just
sapping up water and soil nutrients, while producing absolutely zilch. At least we might recoup some of our losses
if we turned that barren fig tree into kindling!”
“Not so fast,” his vinedresser responds. “You’re going to think I’m crazy, but I still
see some potential in that barren tree.
As ridiculous as it sounds I’d like to have one more chance to mulch,
cultivate and fertilize it. Then, 365
days from today--if my hunch is right--you’ll have figs coming out of your
ears. And if I’m wrong, you can still
sharpen your axe and turn it into firewood.”
What are you still doing here? Why are you still alive and kicking on this February
28, 2016?
From the perspective of this parable it doesn’t have
nearly as much to do with your luck, your carefulness, your exercise program or
your genes ... as it has to do with the mercy of the Almighty One ... who, like
that patiently hopeful vinedresser in the parable, seems to think that giving
you and me a little more time might do some good.
What are we still doing here?
Enjoying a reprieve, another crack at repentance, a grace period, offering us another chance to sort out the trivial from
the essential, to turn away from whatever it is that stands between us and our
Maker, one more – it could even be one last – time to hear the promise of
freedom, hope and a future without end in Jesus Christ.
Why aren’t you
dead yet? Because as my late
father-in-law liked to say: “The devil doesn’t want you, and the Lord doesn’t
need you.”
God wants you here a little longer. God has opened up for us all a grace period
in which we might continue living our lives here on this good earth.
God would like to try his hand at cultivating,
mulching and fertilizing you in order to see what new and exciting fruit you
might still bear.
God wants you to have at least one additional day to
trust in him, look after your neighbor, and tend your little corner of the
earth.
God wants you to ponder the Cross and Empty Tomb of his
beloved Son a little longer.
God wants you to know one more time that you belong to
him – dead or alive.
That’s why your funeral has been postponed. That’s why I am still residing at 1228
Seventeenth Street North in Moorhead, MN.
And if by some miracle we should all survive another
week and gather here seven days from now wondering: Why aren’t we dead yet? Why are we here?…
...The answer will still be the same: Because this life that we have isn’t ours to
possess. It is God’s to give, each and every day.
This life that we’ve been blessed with is a grace period. In spite of our unfruitfulness, our Creator—for
the sake of our Lord Jesus Christ--God has granted us all an extension, some
more time, an undeserved grace period, so that we might live out the full
measure of all the days God graciously bestows upon us.
In the name of Jesus.
Amen.