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Sunday 28 February 2016

Lent Three and The Barren Fig Tree - A Sermon

Third Sunday of Lent: Luke 13:1-9

Introduction:

Good morning, it is a pleasure and a privilege for me to come and speak with you this morning. For those who don’t know me, my name is Mark Broadway, and I’m a “Trainee Vicar” on placement here for the next few weeks.

This morning, I will be speaking mainly on the Gospel reading, and trying to get to the bottom of Jesus’ strong words. The Gospel reading causes us to think about sinfulness, and how Jesus himself is our only refuge. We will conclude by seeing how the scripture tells us about God’s faithfulness, and how patient he has been with us.

So let us pray:

Heavenly Father, we thank you for the gift of your Word to us – we pray that you would speak to us again through these scriptures, by your spirit, amen.

Before looking at the Gospel reading, and it would help me if you were to have it in front of you, I want to set the context of this sermon, by thinking a little about some news stories from this past week. Last Sunday, the Islamic State group, known as ISIS or ISIL, claimed responsibility for two particular bomb attacks; one in the Syrian capital Damascus and the other in the city of Homs, which together have left at least 140 people dead. Both of last Sunday's attacks targeted areas dominated by Islamic minorities, different Islamic denominations reviled by the Sunni Muslim radicals of IS.

Another news story this week concerns a clean-up operation that has been taking place this week in Fiji, after the most severe cyclone to hit the island in living memory killed at least 20 people. Aerial imagery showed some villages, particularly in outlying areas, were completely destroyed. One local man told Reuters news agency the damage was so extensive that "it looks like a different country".
How often it is that our newspapers are filled with such terrible reports?

Too often.

And just as often, we try to find some way of explaining away the tragedy, some way of keeping the reality of suffering at arms’ length from ourselves. We want to believe that we are separate, safe and secure. We want to believe that we have a refuge.

One of the ways that people have always tried to do this, to make themselves feel better in the face of great suffering is to blame the victims. Perhaps, I hope, very few people would try to say those civilians murdered by ISIS were guilty of something and “had it coming”. Or that God was using the cyclone to punish the people of Fiji for some sins. And yet, we do often hear these ideas, even in this country: In January 2014 a UKIP councillor, David Silvester, blamed that year’s storms and heavy floods across Britain on the Government's decision to legalise same sex marriage. Mr Silvester said the prime minister had acted "arrogantly against the Gospel", and that the legislation would result in "disaster".

I think we can be very quick to point a finger at those who are suffering, and blame it on some hidden sin. When we do this, we show clearly that we have taken refuge in our own good behaviour. And, ever has this been so. Our Gospel reading shows us both this instinct, and Jesus’ response. As with all of scripture, we can take today’s reading and use it to help build a lens, or way of seeing these sorts of events; Rightly understood they can become a call to attend to our own spiritual lives.

Today’s Gospel reading begins with people coming to Jesus with news of an act of political suppression against a group of Galileans. This was an event that took place in Jerusalem, a place to which the whole of Luke’s Gospel points. It is not clear from history what exact event this was, but it is thought to be just one example of the frequent religious uprisings, and vicious reprisals that characterised the time. In dealing with these events Jesus is dealing with the reality of the end that awaits him as he journeys through Luke’s Gospel to Jerusalem, we saw this in last week’s Gospel reading, which spoke of Herod wanting to Kill Jesus.

So, what does Jesus say when confronted with this news? Luke records for us Jesus’ words in verse two: ‘Do you suppose these Galileans who suffered like that were greater sinners than any other Galileans? They were not, I tell you.’ Jesus gives us no scope for finger-pointing, or for moral superiority. But rather, he takes the opportunity to force us to face up to our common shared, human sinfulness. He says in clear language: “Do you suppose these Galileans who suffered like that were greater sinners than any other Galileans? They were not, I tell you. No; but unless you repent you will all perish as they did.”

Luke, in writing these passages down for us is combating the incredibly popular theology that says ‘if you are good, you will be blessed; if you are bad you will be cursed’; this is a theology of works and law and bondage. The Christ proclaimed throughout Luke’s Gospel is a Christ who comes to set us free. Jesus tells us about a God who rewards us out of his own loving kindness, not because we have earned it. Jesus makes it clear for us that what happened to these men was not an example of punishment for any particular sin; rather they were examples of our common sinfulness, which is the desire to seek refuge in anything aside from the grace of God.

Jesus, taking the opportunity to turn this encounter into a teaching session, drives the message home by repeating this theme in a similar story. This time, in verse four, about some men who had built a tower which collapsed upon them; Again, history records little of this event for us, but it seems that it was a current local news story, into which Jesus spoke. Again we see that these men were not particularly sinful, but are examples of the sin we all share, the desire to seek refuge in anything other than the grace of God.


To summarise what Luke has recorded for us: Regarding the Galileans; they sought refuge in religious/political causes. And yet, they found none. As for the men of Siloam; they sought refuge in strength of arms, in human might. And yet, they found none. Christ makes it plain for us in this teaching, if we do not repent, that is to turn ourselves around, and think, and act, and love differently, we too will perish. Christ makes it clear in his life and teaching, throughout the gospels, that there is no refuge other than in the grace of God, and that grace, that gift, is Christ himself. Christ, the gift of God for us, who gave himself, who we receive as we gather as his faithful people around the Table.  Let me be clear in what this passage is saying to us: Our only refuge is in Christ.

Where is our refuge, this morning? Morality? Good works? Family? We can allow any one of these to become a phoney refuge, like the tower of Siloam that fell on those 18 men. Let me tell you this: In time, all these towers will fall upon us. There is but one rock and one refuge: Christ.
At this point in the Gospel passage, the teaching seems to take a sharp turn. Luke tells us that, here, Jesus moves on from this stark teaching into a parable. The parable of the fruitless fig tree, verse nine. By recording this sudden shift in teaching style, almost like a change of gear whilst driving, Luke allows the reading to take on a different feel.

Looking at the parable itself; Very often in the Bible the people of God are spoken about, prophetically, or in allegory, like a picture as a vine, or a vineyard, or a garden or a fig tree – and likewise here. The fig tree is, in a sense, the people of God. And the fruit that should have grown is living faith. The tree has shown itself to be useless, as with the religion of works and law and bondage, and so the time had come for it to be cut down, thrown away, and replaced. This is not an uncommon image throughout scripture.


Yet, here in Luke’s Gospel, Jesus adds a twist to this story – divine forbearance, God’s patience. Rather than ending with the rightful removal of the fig tree, the parable ends with a plea for more time.

Three years, I am told, is the right time to expect a harvest from a fig tree, if there has been no fruit after this time, perhaps it will never fruit? But God is patient; he holds back his judgement to give as much time as possible.

Likewise with us: We have shown ourselves slow to come to repentance. Even at times it might look like we would never produce spiritual fruit; but God is merciful, and he is waiting. He will not wait forever, but he will give us more time than we need. So we should rejoice in God’s patience, but not be slow to act. 

Time is indeed short, but the vinedresser is working the ground. He is preparing the tree, doing all that he can do – will it grow? Will we grow? Will we produce the fruit of repentance? Will we learn to place our trust in Christ our refuge?

We have four weeks remaining of Lent until Easter. In a sense time is short for us, too. Let me urge you, to join me, as I endeavour to examine my conscience seriously and soberly before God. So that when we gather on Easter morning, to receive him by faith in that sacrament, we can proclaim with our lips and also our repentant lives that Jesus Lives, and he alone is our refuge.

Amen.