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SERMONS
The
Third Sunday in Lent
March 14, 2004
The
world grieves today for the two hundred people who were killed Thursday
in the train bombings in Madrid. People around the world joined
together to express their shock, dismay, and grief, to show their
sympathy for the injured and the families of those touched by this
tragedy.
And
people around the world are asking why. Why should such a thing
happen to these particular people? What did they do to deserve this?
Why were others spared? There is an uncertainty to life that disturbs
us. There is a sense of randomness-a sense of injustice-to the events
of life. And we don't like it. We don't like it at all.
One
day some people came to Jesus and told him of an atrocity that had
occurred. A group of Galileans had been protesting against the Roman
authorities. And Pilate, the Roman governor, had had them killed.
Now
Luke doesn't tell us why they brought this information to Jesus.
Perhaps to warn him. Perhaps seeking some explanation as to why
such a thing might occur. Perhaps hoping that he would share in
their sorrow over the deaths. We don't know why.
But
it certainly seems appropriate that Jesus would express some sense
of regret or be able to give some reason that such a thing might
happen. You would expect that from someone as caring and compassionate
as Jesus.
Yet
his response is surprising, shocking almost. He expresses no regret.
He offers no explanation, no comfort. Rather he says, "Do you think
that because these Galilean suffered in this way that they were
worse sinners than all other Galilean? No, I tell you; but unless
you repent you will perish as they did."
Jesus
is not interested in why questions. He recognizes them for
what they are: distractions. Why questions are one way we
attempt to shield ourselves from the suffering of others, and even
from our own suffering. Jesus will have none of that. He doesn't
really care. THE question for Jesus is, "What is your relationship
to God?"
The
novelist Reynolds Price tells a story of a friend of his, a psychiatrist.
The man had been in an automobile accident that left him paralyzed,
helpless, dependent, and suicidal. One day shortly after he was
released from the hospital he wheeled himself into his bedroom and
locked the door. Holding a revolver in his hand, he prayed for the
first time in many years. "God," he said, "I can't go on like this.
I will make a deal with you. I am willing to go on living, for the
sake of my family, if you will give me some relief for my pain."
The
psychiatrist said that he waited and, a few moments after finishing
his prayer, it was as if he heard a thunderous reply: "No deal.
You either take life as it is or die."
He
went on to say, "That scared me half to death. It wasn't what I
expected to hear from God at all. I put away the revolver and never
considered suicide again."
Life
is not fair. Bad things happen. Bad things happen to bad people;
and bad things happen to good people. People suffer, frequently
for no good reason. The why questions are ultimately unanswerable.
It doesn't make sense. The notion that only good things can happen
to good people was put to rest when they hung Jesus on the cross.
God's
love carries no promises about good or bad; save the promise that
God will not allow anything worse to happen to us than happened
to his own Son. And the promise that whatever happens, he will be
with us. And the promise that pain and suffering and death are not
the final word.
So
on Sunday, when we come to the Lord's table, we are given no answers.
Rather we are given the Body and Blood of Christ. This is the way
that God responds to our questions-not with answers to flatter us
or to make the world seem simpler than it really is-but with his
life given for us. And, in the end, that is the only answer that
really matters.
David
Christian
The Chapel of the Cross
Madison, Mississippi
Exodus
3.1-15
1 Corinthians 10.1-13
Luke 13.1-9
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