Sunday, March 24, 2019

“Thinking Differently” (Luke 13:1-9)


It seems like such an innocent act . . . a peaceful act . . . to gather together for prayer.  Such was the situation on a Friday at two mosques in Christchurch, New Zealand . . . people gathering for prayer.  I imagine that the prayers that were being lifted up were no different than the prayers that we shared earlier in our worship service.  Prayers for healing . . . prayers of thanksgiving . . . prayers of understanding . . . prayers of peace . . . prayers spoken and unspoken.  People—a faithful people, gathered to offer prayer.  Something we have all done.
 
In a matter of moments, the prayers were interrupted . . . pierced by the sound of semi-automatic weapon fire . . . bullets flying everywhere.  When it was all said and done, fifty people were dead and a like number were wounded.  Screams and cries broke the silence of prayer.  The prayers were now cries for mercy . . . cries for survival . . . prayers of desperation.  In the chaos and its aftermath, people wondered why . . . why were innocent people so senselessly slaughtered?

Does this sound familiar?

When I think of the states of Nebraska, Iowa, Wisconsin, Minnesota, and South Dakota I do not think of them as places of immorality and sinfulness.  In my mind these states are the epitome of Mayberry . . . good, down-to-earth, moral, upstanding places.  Yet, this week, these good people were in the wrong place at the wrong time as a “bomb cyclone” swept through the Midwest causing billions of dollars of damage.  In Nebraska, a place I love dearly and hold close to my heart, three-fourths of its 93 counties have been declared disaster areas.  In Nebraska alone there has been $49 million in damage to roads, levees and other infrastructure . . . $440 million in crop losses . . . $400 million in cattle losses.  More than 2,000 homes and 340 businesses were damaged or destroyed at a cost of $85 million.  And, that is just Nebraska.

Think of the devastation . . . homes lost . . . businesses lost . . . livelihoods erased . . . lives gone.  What did these people do to deserve such havoc, chaos, and suffering placed upon them?  Prayers are lifted up . . . prayers searching for understanding . . . prayers wondering why?

Does this sound familiar?

It should.  We just heard it in our scripture reading.  There were some in the group that was listening to Jesus teach who told him of an immoral act that had taken place . . . where the Roman leader, Pilate, had mixed the blood of innocent Galileans in a sacrifice . . . they wanted to know why?  Jesus wants to know whether or not those whose blood had been mixed in the sacrifice were worse sinners than others . . . did they think they got what they deserved?  And, he presses the point as he shares the news of those who were killed when a tower in Siloam fell killing 18.  He asks, “ . . . do you think that they were more guilty than all the others living in Jerusalem?”  

I think that that is the toughest part of faith . . . accepting the mystery . . . especially the mystery of why bad things happen.  As human beings were cannot just accept things . . . no, we have to have answers . . . explanations.  We have to have a reason for why things happen the way that they do.  We cannot accept the fact that sometimes, bad things happen.  We all know the famous twelve-step motto . . . poop happens.  Thus, it should come as no surprise when Jesus answers his own question to the people . . . NO!

No, those Galileans were not worse sinners.  They were no more sinful than anyone else, for all are sinners.  No, those killed by the tower fall were not worse sinners than all the others living in Jerusalem . . . they were all sinners.  The bottom line is that bad things happen . . . innocent people are killed . . . their blood is mixed in the sacrifice.  Innocent people gathered in prayers are mowed down in a hail of bullets.  Devastating natural disaster flood the land . . . innocent people are hurt . . . lose their homes, businesses, and livelihood.  None of them did anything to deserve what happened to them . . . they were not any worse sinners than anyone.  In fact, they were just like you and me . . . children of God.  As it was in Jesus’ time, so it is in our time . . . there are no answers.

And, yet, we must go on.

It is kind of shocking then that Jesus also tells those who are listening that in light of these sad situations that they all must repent.  So often we think of that word—“repent”—as a word that means that we are to quit something that we shouldn’t be doing.  Repentance, though, is more than giving something up . . . quitting something.  Repentance, as Jesus uses it, does mean “to change” . . . in particular, he uses it to mean that the change comes in the way that one thinks.  When Jesus calls for repentance, Jesus calls for a change in the way that people think.

To change one’s thinking takes time.  With that in mind, Jesus tells a parable . . . the parable of the fig tree.  A man has a fig tree that hasn’t produced fruit in three years.  He tells his gardener to chop it down . . . it is worthless.  But the gardener pleas with the man to give the tree some time.  With a little help the gardener is certain that the tree will produce . . . it just needs time and attention.  Jesus understands that change does not happen over-night, especially when it comes to how people think.  It takes time, and God is a patient God . . . a patient God who seeks people to change the way that they see and understand God . . . to change the way that they see their relationship with God . . . to see the inter-connectedness of God’s ways with their ways.  So, Jesus says, repent!  Think differently . . . think like God.  God will wait.

Bad things happen.  Things that we cannot explain . . . things that we cannot understand.  And, yet, life goes on.  How do we respond?  Do we question why bad things happen?  Or, do we respond when bad things happen.  Jesus tells us to think differently.  Instead of asking why and trying to understand something we may never know or understand, Jesus tells us to think differently.  Instead of why . . . we need to ask how.

How do we wipe the tears away of those whose loved ones and friends were senselessly shot down while in prayer?  How do we provide comfort to those who lay in the hospital from their wounds?  How do we embrace those who are shocked and devastated in the senselessness of it all?  How do we represent the love and the grace . . . the compassion . . . of Jesus to all those touched by such pointless acts of violence witnessed in New Zealand and across the world?  How do we think like Jesus?

How do we respond to those whose land has been flooded?  How do we ease the pain of loss . . . loss of life, home, livelihood?  How do we reach out and touch another’s live in such desperate times?  How do we become Jesus to others in their time of need?

We begin by thinking differently.  Jesus thought differently.  He often floored those who listened to him as he turned their world and understanding upside down.  He called the people to think like God.  He demonstrated through his words and actions how this thinking differently looked.  He walked the talk.  Surprisingly, his words still shake us up today . . . to repent . . . to think differently.  That is what we are called to do as the followers of Jesus.

We are getting well into the season of Lent.  Lent is a season that is grounded in thinking differently.  It is a season in which we are called upon to think differently about how we see ourselves in light of God’s love and grace . . . how we see ourselves in relation to God . . . and, how we see ourselves in relation with others.  That is the work of Lent . . . to think differently.  To think like God.  God’s ways are not the way of the world . . . they are different.  They are better.

Repenting . . . thinking differently . . . is hard work, especially when it is in our deepest fiber to wonder why.  To wonder why when bad things happen like in New Zealand . . . like in the Midwest.  But there really is no comfort in such thinking . . . just more questions.  The comfort comes when we quit asking why and begin responding as Jesus would respond . . . showing grace and love . . . to ourselves, to God, and to others.  It all comes down to how we relate . . . to ourselves, God, and others.  In such thinking, we are never alone for God is with us.  We are all in this together and it is going to all of us to get out of here.  We can’t do it alone.  Who would have thought!  That is thinking different.  Amen.

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