Sermon for Third Sunday in Lent, Year C (3-23-25)

Well folks, we're going full Lent this morning. These readings are tough, and they force us to stare down perhaps one of the most confusing and irritating - if not heart breaking - aspects of our human existence: That bad things happen to good people. That good things happen to bad people. And most confounding, that more often than not suffering just simply seems to be random.

To add to the confusion, it also seems like Jesus and Paul are contradicting each other as they both  attempt to speak to the age-old belief that suffering is a direct reply to sin and disobedience to God.

Paul (in his classic Paul way) attempts to give the church in Corinth a pastoral pep-talk this morning. He's trying to remind these people that - even though they are experiencing conflict and strife within their very young Christian community - they will be brought through these tests by God's faithfulness just as God brought the Israelites through the wilderness. Which is all well and good. But, because he can't help himself he adds: "Nevertheless, God was not pleased with most of them, and they were struck down in the wilderness." 

And then Paul goes on to recite a rap sheet of sins committed by the Israelites, and the swift punishments that were carried out because of them. And then tacks on perhaps the least helpful pastoral sentiment: "No testing has overtaken you that is not common to everyone." Or basically saying: everyone has it bad, don't get too worked up about it.

For this and several other reasons, we don't typically look to Paul for tips on effective pastoral care. Regardless, Paul's reading of Exodus seems to be a literal one. Making a clean - if not harsh - link between sin and decisive punishment by a God interested in a clear cause- and-effect relationship: you sin and fail to repent, you die. Message received.

There are several instances in Paul's writings that make me wonder if he would have shifted his opinion, or at least taken a different approach if he'd had access to the same Bible that we do. Because remember, he didn't. This letter to the Corinthians was probably written about the same time that the oldest gospels were being compiled. So, Paul wouldn't have had to contend with the very different take on sin and suffering that Jesus gives us in Luke today.

A few folks approach Jesus with a bit of a case study. They are hearing what he's teaching and now it's time to apply it to real-world events. Terrible, callous violence has been carried out against a group of Galileans by Herod, and so in these peoples' estimation - and very much in line with Paul's thinking - they ask Jesus to confirm that these Galileans were worse sinners than any run-of-the-mill Galilean. Because surely that's what makes such a tragedy - well - make more sense. Because this whole human project would make more sense if bad things only happened to the bad people, right?

Jesus has a simple answer to this question: No. But then he adds, "but unless you repent, you will all perish as they did." Okay Jesus, but which is it? Were these people punished for sin, or is that now how all of this works? And to put a finer point on it Jesus then offers his own example of a tragic tower collapse which claimed 18 lives: "Do you think that they were worse offenders than all the others living in Jerusalem?" he asks. "No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish just as they did." Again, which is it?

Per usual Jesus is bypassing the wrong question here and answering the more important, but unasked question. Seemingly: who are the bad people? And how do I ensure I'm not one of them?

One commentator sums it up well, writing: "We must resist the temptation to let tragedy reinforce our imagined distinctions between the good and 'the rest,' with ourselves presumably among the first group; all of us must constantly be seeking to live as God intends, in loving and just ways. And the need of others is always an opportunity for loving service."

God is not doling out tragedy as an immediate, calculated punishment of sin. But we are warned time and time again that when we flirt with sin, we are flirting with a death-dealing business. Sin - mysterious as it is - is also quite simple. It is that which drives distance and disunion between our life-giving God, each other, and even ourselves. And in that void created by sinful distance, death abounds. Spiritually, mentally, relationally - and yes - sometimes even bodily.

This, I think, is what Jesus is saying today. No, God is not doling out pain and suffering as a tit-for-tat disciplinary scheme. And yet, Jesus is also not willing to say that sin no big deal. After all, if it took the death of God to deal with sin once and for all. So we'd be wise to take it and its rotten fruits seriously.

But there is still Good News here, my friends. This call of Jesus to repentance is as much an invitation to come home as it is a command to feel bad about ourselves or what we've done (or left undone.) Repentance is more than anything a turning around; pointing our gaze back toward God when we've been distracted, or disillusioned, or even damaged by our own sin and perhaps even the sins of others.

Like the gardener looking out for an underperforming fig tree, God will tend to you even in your baren times. In fact, that's likely when you might most sense grace being heaped upon you, fortifying your spirit against the snares of the enemy. Fertilizing your soul for growth and for abundant life. 

Amen.