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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