Going Fishing - Sermon on Matthew 4:12-23

Sermon preached by Pastor Daniel Locke on January 26, 2020 @ St. Mark's Lutheran Church in Jacksonville, FL

Listen to the Sermon here: 

Matthew 4:12-23

12 Now when Jesus heard that John had been arrested, he withdrew to Galilee. ¹³ He left Nazareth and made his home in Capernaum by the sea, in the territory of Zebulun and Naphtali, ¹⁴ so that what had been spoken through the prophet Isaiah might be fulfilled: ¹⁵ "Land of Zebulun, land of Naphtali, on the road by the sea, across the Jordan, Galilee of the Gentiles— ¹⁶ the people who sat in darkness have seen a great light, and for those who sat in the region and shadow of death light has dawned." ¹⁷ From that time Jesus began to proclaim, "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near." ¹⁸ As he walked by the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon, who is called Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea—for they were fishermen. ¹⁹ And he said to them, "Follow me, and I will make you fish for people." ²⁰ Immediately they left their nets and followed him. ²¹ As he went from there, he saw two other brothers, James son of Zebedee and his brother John, in the boat with their father Zebedee, mending their nets, and he called them. ²² Immediately they left the boat and their father, and followed him. ²³ Jesus went throughout Galilee, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the good news of the kingdom and curing every disease and every sickness among the people.

SERMON

Let me preface today’s sermon by saying I am not a fisherman.  In fact, I have only been fishing a handful of times and I’ve learned that I am most successful if the rod is plastic, the line has a magnet on the end, and I’m trying to catch plastic magnetic fish in a kiddie pool.  I classify fishing as NMG - not my gift.

That being said, I can recall a few impactful experiences that taught me about the art of fishing.  As a boy scout, we once camped out around someone’s pond. One of the reasons for our weekend camping trip was for some folks to work on their fishing merit badge.  So, that evening, our scout master asked who wanted to go fishing in the morning. He offered to wake us up in the morning, and since I had never really gone fishing before, I thought, sure, why not.  When 4 am came, I immediately regretted my decision. Apparently, most fish are active at dusk and dawn. I guess early worm gets the fish, as they say.

My second lesson was that going fishing was not equivalent to going to catch fish.  That same camping trip I learned that you can sit for hours, doing nothing, and get no result. Fishing takes patience.

In high school I was invited to go fishing off the pier at a friend’s lake house.  I’d say that this experience was a bit more successful, but it was also the time I learned that fishing requires attentiveness.  Turns out, you can’t cast the line, lean the pole against the rail and trust the fish would bite and politely wait to be reeled in.  Apparently, fish like to eat on the go. I lost my friends fishing pole. 

Growing up, my dad got me a small tackle box.  Through scouts I had collected two or three bobbers, a few weights, some fun little lures and a variety of hooks.  I felt cool.  That is until I was invited to go fishing with a group of folks from scouts.  I took my cute little tackle box with more cubbies and compartments than things to put in them.  I really liked that when I opened the lid, the top compartment raised on its own, revealing the secret hidden compartment beneath.  Anyways, we arrived and got settled. I sat my box on the bench and opened up slowly so others could take notice.  

Meanwhile, I noticed the leader open what I can only describe as one of those giant metal rolling tool cabinets.  Cabinets lined with hooks and lures. Endless drawers full or artificial bait, bobbers, weights, sinkers, and... well that’s the extent of my fishing accessory knowledge.  He strapped on his sleeveless fishing vest. I was intimidated and overwhelmed. That was the day I learned that there are 1000s of species of fish, and every one of them is different and everyone requires a different approach to successfully catching them.  Fishing takes preparation, careful planning, and creativity.

Fishing, from my limited experience and observation is a profound hobby and sport.  And to be successful, it requires immense patience, perseverance, and experience. It requires that you know the fish that you’re trying to catch and that you have the precise tools necessary.  Successful fishing requires hope and endurance. It even means failing. And, perhaps the most profound lesson I’ve learned is that you absolutely cannot catch a fish if you don’t go fishing in some way or another. 

As he walked by the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon, who is called Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea—for they were fishermen. ¹⁹ And he said to them, "Follow me, and I will make you fish for people." ²⁰ Immediately they left their nets and followed him. ²¹ As he went from there, he saw two other brothers, James son of Zebedee and his brother John, in the boat with their father Zebedee, mending their nets, and he called them. ²² Immediately they left the boat and their father and followed him.

Almost every time I read this text or its parallel in Mark or Luke, I get hung up on the immediacy of the disciples’ following.  How is it that at Jesus’ call and invitation, they drop everything to follow this minority voice of hope. They leave it all behind to be in the footsteps of something new - to take part in the reign of God’s kingdom.  

But, for some reason this week, I was hooked by the prospect of fishing for people.  Pun- intended. The notion that as Christians we are called by Christ to become people who fish for people.  To exhaust the metaphor, we are called to cast to the proclamation of Jesus, to shed light on the dark and dreary world, to offer a message of love, grace, forgiveness, peace and hope that is so lure-ing, that others’ can’t help but bite.  Right, and in Jesus’ day, it was more about casting a wide net in hopes that you might catch a few from the many.

And I’ve found myself so deep in prayer lately about Christ’s invitation to fish for people, mostly because I’m a terrible fisherman.  Fishing takes patience and endurance. It takes perseverance. Fishing takes pride and knowledge of the fish you want to catch. And to optimize success it takes the proper use of gifts and tools.

Now look, I don’t mean to suggest that our call as Christians is to bait and lure, or even deceive people into knowing Christ.  I don’t want to overplay the metaphor.  Rather, I think that to be successful in our call to discipleship, to fully honor the privilege and responsibility of proclaiming the grace-filled reign of God, it might take some practice.  Some patience. Some perseverance. If we understand our call from Jesus through the shores of the baptismal font to go forth in the name of Christ to make disciples then at some point we have to at least go fishing, trusting in God to guide us.

Our gospel text today marks the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry.  Following Jesus’ birth, he fled to Egypt for safety with his parents, he was baptized by John in the river.  The spirit descended upon him like a dove and drove him to the wilderness where he was tempted by the devil, and now he withdraws to Galilee and the area of Capernaum.  And it’s here that he begins his public ministry within the gospel according to Matthew.  

And our gospel text opens with a stark reminder of the hostile and tumultuous time that Jesus emerges.  Again, Matthew writes, “Now when Jesus heard that John had been arrested, he withdrew to Galilee.” John the Baptist, the one who came crying in the wilderness, “prepare the way of the Lord.”  The one who pointed to the Messiah and the one who is greater. John, who baptized Jesus in the river and pointed his followers to Christ, has been arrested by Herod.  

Now we won’t hear the story of John’s beheading this year, but within the other gospel narratives we can recall that John the Baptist was beheaded at the request of Herod’s stepdaughter Salome, influenced by her mother, Herodias.  Ultimately, it is a testament to Herod’s rage and violent temperament, sparked by John convicting Herod for divorcing his wife to take his brother’s wife.  

Jesus continues to live and move in the territory of a violent, tyrannous rulers.  In Jesus day, the region around Galilee was ruled by Herod Antipas. He was the son of Herod the Great, the one who tried to manipulate the wisemen into telling him where Jesus was.  Who, ultimately tried to have the baby Jesus murdered. Herod Antipas was known for his brutal nature and his utter intolerance for anyone who may threaten his power.   

Furthermore, the region of Galilee was under Roman Imperial Rule.  The roman rule was an oppressive force that affected a large portion of the population.  Most common citizens relied on brutal, physical, labor-intensive work to support their way of life.  But excessive, unjust taxes suppressed the fruits of their labor. Therefore, many also lived in poverty - void of basic life-sustaining needs.

The kingdom in which they lived was not necessarily one of hope or joy.   It is riddled with intimidation from authority, submission to the Roman Imperial rule, and a longing for the fulfillment of their ancestral promise. 

This is the power of the day that Jesus initiates God’s reign.  While there is a need to be diligent and careful in his ministry, God through Jesus has come to proclaim the presence of a new kingdom, a kingdom ruled by grace, forgiveness, justice, and love.  Jesus is the light of hope, freedom, and justice that is to shine as a light in the darkness of oppressive rule.

This is the time and place to which Jesus as a light to the darkness, proclaiming the promise of the Kingdom of God, a reign of hope, justice, mercy, and grace.  God, through Jesus, has come to offer salvation to God’s people. To raise up the lowly and cast down the mighty. To heal the sick, clothe the naked, feed the hungry, make the blind to see and the mute to speak.  To bring good news to the poor, release to the captives, and to set the oppressed free.  

And one of Jesus’ first actions is to invite others to follow, to risk it all and experience a new way of life.  Inviting them to come and see. 

As he walked by the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon, who is called Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea—for they were fishermen. ¹⁹ And he said to them, "Follow me, and I will make you fish for people." ²⁰ Immediately they left their nets and followed him. ²¹ 

When Jesus invites the disciples to come and follow, our translation says, “Follow me and I will make you fish for people.”  This translation can make it sound as though fishing for people were a task to be completed. And if you’re like me, that’s terrifying, because as you recall, fishing is not my gift.

But thanks be to God, Jesus’ invitation is a richer than our translation might seem   In fact, a better understanding of the invitation might be to say, “Follow me, and I will make you to become fishers for people.”   In this translation fishing for people is no longer a task, but rather becoming fishers of people is a new identity. Jesus invites us to come and see, to participate and learn about the work for the kingdom.  Christ promises to equip the ones who will be doing the fishing. It is to become their new identity. 

They are to become fishers of people.  In a world desperate for the hope of something better, Christ calls and invites these disciples to use their gifts and abilities for the furtherment of the kingdom of God. This is the kind of discipleship that you and I are called to as well

Despite our anxieties or doubts or fears, Christ confidently calls us to be disciples.  To become fishers or people, casting the good news of the light of Christ to all people, all times, and in all places.   And the good news, especially for someone who is not keen on fishing, it is not about us. It’s not about what you or I do.  

It’s about what God does through us.  Using our God given, gifts, abilities, experiences, to cast the story of faith, to fan the spark of hope to a world deeply in need of healing.  And successful fishing, to be sure, successful discipleship is not measured in the number of fish you catch, but rather the passion and commitment to the craft.  True discipleship takes time, patience, endurance, knowledge, experience, trust, and hope.  

Jesus entered the world at a tumultuous time.  God, the Emmanuel, came forth so that the people who sat in darkness have seen a great light, and for those who sat in the region and shadow of death light has dawned.  It was true then and it is true today.

And, as I understand it, most fishermen and women don’t just go fishing in order to catch something, but rather they often go fishing, because they’re people who fish, and fishing is what fishermen and women do.  

Amen.

©Sermon preached by Pastor Daniel Locke on January 26, 2020 @ St. Mark's Lutheran Church in Jacksonville, FL

Identity and Promise - Sermon on Baptism of Our Lord Sunday - Matt. 3:13-17

Sermon preached by Pastor Daniel Locke on January 12, 2020 @ St. Mark's Lutheran Church in Jacksonville, FL

Listen to the Sermon here: 

Matthew 3:13-17

13 Then Jesus came from Galilee to John at the Jordan, to be baptized by him. 14 John would have prevented him, saying, "I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?" 15 But Jesus answered him, "Let it be so now; for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness." Then he consented. 16 And when Jesus had been baptized, just as he came up from the water, suddenly the heavens were opened to him and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting on him.17 And a voice from heaven said, "This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased."

SERMON

As pastors, I think we’re discouraged from picking favorites.  I know it’s not the right thing to do, and it’s not fair to give preference to one over another.  But I need to be honest and tell you that I think Baptism is my favorite sacrament of the Lutheran sacraments. At least, for right now.  

To be fair, both sacraments, Baptism and Holy communion are abundant expressions of God’s grace.  In both, the graciousness of God’s mercy and the promise of abundant life are freely given.  Both are gifts to God’s people in which God again affirms the promise that all might have life and have it abundant.  Both are affirmations of God’s forgiveness of sins.  Both are important and both are foundation to the life of the community of faith.  But, I have to say, there is something about Baptism that warms for soul and affirms my faith.  Something about the water that draws me into the arms of our maker, healer, and redeemer.

Baptism gives us identity.  Identity in Christ.  Identity as children of God.  And forever and ever, there isn’t a thing that can diminish, remove, or compromise that identity.  The font is where the labels of the world wash away.  The font stands as the foundation of our inheritance to life and life eternal.  God created.  God claims.  God names.  In the waters of salvation, all doubts of who we are are washed away.  In the sacrament of the water, God names us beloved.  And everything else about our lives ripples out from the fundamental, grace-filled truth.

On one of my first Sunday here 2.5 years ago, I was standing in the back by the font before worship and in came Pastor Bernie Jorn.  We had only met once before at the Oktoberfest meet and greet before I was called, and we had had a brief conversation on the phone about supplying at St. Mark’s.  But other than that, we didn’t really know much about each other.  And as I stood there waiting to start the announcements at 9:30, he came through the door and he said, “Good morning.”  Good morning, I said.  Then he looked at the me, then the font, then me, and he said “Hey, would you mind splashing me.”

It caught me off guard because while I safely assumed he meant, will you touch the water with your thumb and make the sign of the cross on my forehead...it took everything in me not to take a handful of water and pour it on his head and say, “Pastor Bernie Jorn, remember that you are named and claimed in the waters of life, sweet child of God, and nothing will ever change that.”

Since then, every single time Pastor Bernie passes the font he invites me or someone else to splash water on him.  And there are lot of us who do the same.  When we pass from the Narthex to the Nave, or we leave worship and process into the world we dip our fingers in the water, cross our forehead and remember our baptism. 

And if you don’t do it, or haven’t thought about it, I invite you to try it today.  Anytime you pass that font, feel free to at least touch the water and remember who and whose you are. 

That moment with Pastor Jorn several years ago was so powerfully to me, not only because it’s a privilege and honor to remind someone of their baptism and the love of God that has claimed them…but to enter and leave worship through the water of the font is a statement to the world that no other name, label, identifier, club, organization, political affiliation, stereotype, or otherwise can come close to redefining your identity in Christ.  

Remembering your baptism at the start of worship is to reclaim the gift of grace extended to you and me.  To remember that all things will fade away.  All the hats we wear can be removed and set aside.  All the labels and qualifiers of the world are human made and exist to separate us from one another and ourselves.  But that water, that holy sacrament is a proclamation to the world that when all is stripped away, I am claimed by God.  I am God’s child.  I am beloved.  And the water unites us with Christ and with one another. 

To splash in the water is to tell the world that I belong to God.  God chooses me.  God chooses us.  And try as hard as we might to label and define one another, nothing holds a candle to the one and only who saves us.  The one and only who grants us life.  The one and only who claims us as children, as beloved.  

I want to pose a question for your reflection.  Ignite some self-curiosity if you will.  Plant a seed of self-assessment and discernment.  And if you were with us a few months ago, I put forth a similar question and actually invited you to write your answers down.  If you recall, I gave you the prompt “I am..” and invited you to fill in the blank.  Similarly, today, I want us to consider what it is that defines us.   What labels do we model, or better yet what brands us?  When you meet a stranger, who knows nothing about you, what might their impression be. 

Our world and our culture are proud on labeling and categorizing people, aren’t we?  It’s amazing that even the seemingly innocent things we do that can cause us to be defined, labeled, and prejudged.  Especially when you start thinking about the choices, we make in life that begin to define us to others.  The clothes we wear or the jersey we put on.  The car we drive or the bumper stickers we slap on the back.  Our political affiliations and ambitious, the groups we belong to and the organizations we support.  There are so many labels the world has created to define us.  

So, what is that defines you?  I often think about NASCAR cars.  Personally, I’m not a NASCAR fan, but we can all picture NASCAR cars, right?  They’re covered in labels and stickers and images and sponsorship.  And as the car goes around and round for 4 hours, you can’t help but see the relationships and organizations they support.  But, if you peel all of those labels back, and strip the car down, it’s only a car.  And if we think about our lives in a similar way, what labels and brands describe us, and when they’re all peeled back, who are we?  When someone meets you for the first or hundredth time, what labels has the world impressed upon you?

In the gospel according to Matthew, Matthew is working hard to leave no doubt within the world as to who Jesus is.  From his exhaustive lineage in chapter 1, to the multiple references to prophecy through chapter 2, to Jesus’ baptism, the descending dove, and the voice from heaven proclaiming Jesus as God’s son, in whom God is well pleased.  

Matthew wants there to be no doubt among his audience that this guy, Jesus, is the one called for.  He is the one longed for.  He is the Messiah, the great king of kings and lord of lords.  He is the wonderful, counselor, Mighty God, and prince of peace.  He is God’s son.  Emmanuel - God has come near to us.  And he shall be the savior of the people.  All of God’s people.  Matthew wants to ensure that there is no question about his identity.

And I think that deep down, when I splish and splash in the waters of life back there.  

When I touch the water to my forehead and recall my baptism, I think deep down I first lament and confess that the world may have doubts about who and whose I am.  And I desperately long for the world to have no doubt about my identity as a Christian.  As God’s child.  God’s beloved.   As Christians, washed in the waters of new life, should we too be about the word of God so that there is absolutely NO doubt as to who we are.  More importantly, whose we are.  

In the waters of baptism, God claims us as God’s children.  Marked with the cross of Christ, Sealed by the holy spirit.  The heavens torn apart; the Spirit descends.  God makes us heirs of God’s promised salvation.  God’s victory over death. God folds us into the story of compassion, love, grace, peace, and forgiveness.  God clothes us in mercy.  And NOTHING, absolutely nothing, thank God, can change the life we have in God.   Our identity, in the most holistic sense is inextricably connected to God.

And out of the waters, our new identity ought to define the world - not the other way around.  Everything else in our lives ought to be an expression of that grace.  A testament to that gift.  A ripple.  

On Nov. 11, 1943, Martin Luther was baptized in Eisleben Germany at the church of St. Peter and St. Paul.  The church was refurbished several years ago, and when they renovated the inside of the church, they did one of the coolest things.  One of the most powerful images of baptism I have ever seen.   In the front and center of the church, they placed a baptismal font in the floor.  It’s a big, deep font in which someone could easily be submerged.  And in the concrete floors of the church they etched concentric circles all rippling out from the font.  So that, no matter where you sat or stood in the church, you were within the ripples of the font.  It’s incredibly beautiful and I put in on a slide for you to see in Hart Hall.  

This is such a powerful image of Baptism, because try as hard as we might, we absolutely cannot escape the waters of our identity.  We are God’s children, grafted into gracious gift of eternal life, wading in the ripple of salvation.  In the waters God washes away the divisions of world.  Race, ethnicity, sex, gender. All the marks of human-made division fail in the grace of God to offer salvation in this holy sacrament.

We are called to be a member of the body, working for justice and peace in all the world.  We are called to proclaim who is greater, to point to the great I am, to tell of a love so deep and rich.  Called to extend compassion for the less fortunate, advocacy for the lost, and respite for the wandering.  God’s grace-filled claim on God’s people never, never fades away.  Never expires. No label of the world can supersede “Beloved child of God.”

And here is the beautiful thing, when we lose sight of who and whose we are...when the world would work to convince us otherwise, we remember that in the waters of the life also come the promise of the community.  We are not alone.  As members of the body of Christ, we are inextricably connected to one another always called to reflect Christ to others.   And I think it’s so important for us to remember that.  And if ever there were a day to be reminded, it’s today.  

Do me a favor, pull out your cranberry ELW and turn to page 228.  Page numbers at the bottom.  Hymn numbers at the top. 

*At this point I left the pulpit and my sermon to read through the promises of baptism and the communal renunciations.  The sermon closed at the baptismal font where I challenged everyone with two actions:

1) Contact someone in your life you fulfilled the baptismal promises for you

2) Fulfill the promises of baptism for someone else in your life.

©Sermon preached by Pastor Daniel Locke on January 12, 2020 @ St. Mark's Lutheran Church in Jacksonville, FL

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Repent or Perish - Sermon on Luke 13:1-9

Listen to the gospel lesson and sermon here.

Luke 13:1-9

At that very time there were some present who told him about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices.² He asked them, "Do you think that because these Galileans suffered in this way they were worse sinners than all other Galileans?³ No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish as they did.⁴ Or those eighteen who were killed when the tower of Siloam fell on them—do you think that they were worse offenders than all the others living in Jerusalem?⁵ No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish just as they did."⁶ Then he told this parable: "A man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard; and he came looking for fruit on it and found none.⁷ So he said to the gardener, "See here! For three years I have come looking for fruit on this fig tree, and still I find none. Cut it down! Why should it be wasting the soil?'⁸ He replied, "Sir, let it alone for one more year, until I dig around it and put manure on it.⁹ If it bears fruit next year, well and good; but if not, you can cut it down.' "

It seems no matter how often I read this text, I get caught up on Jesus saying, “but unless you repent, you will all perish as they did.”  Perhaps it’s because he says it twice...or maybe it’s because it’s a bit of a terrifying, out-of-the-ordinary statement from Jesus. Repent or Perish.  And to drive his point home he uses the image of a perfectly innocent fig tree, which has a rather fruitless history. And because there is no fruit, which is a metaphor for repentance and a life in God’s will, the master is prepared to cut it down.  But the gardner intercedes and advocates for patience. Give it just one more year. Allow the tree to be tended and cultivated..to be properly nourished and nurtured. Surely then we will see fruit. And if it bears fruit next year, well and good; but if not, you can cut it down.'”  So the Master yields. 

Repent or perish.  These are powerful words with dangerous implications.  There are whole ideologies in our world, especially in this country who take these words out of the context of the gospel and use them not only to condemn anyone they consider to be unworthy of God’s grace, but they also celebrate tragedies as signs of God’s divine judgment upon sinners.  These folks, whom I refuse to give any power to their name, they prey upon victims of serious natural or national tragedies. And I don’t mean prayer as conversation with God. I mean they prey upon them like a lion in the wild, ready to pounce on people’s pain and suffering to amplify their misconstrued theology that bad things happen to you because you are sinful.  Repent or perish is there motto. It’s a powerful and scary interpretation of Jesus’ words this day. It’s a dangerous destructive theology. And it’s all the more reason to give these words the time and attention they deserve. 

In today’s text Jesus is still en route to Jerusalem.  He knowingly continues to the city that will be less than welcoming.  In fact they will be hostile and abusive. And all throughout his journey to Jerusalem he never relinquishes from teaching and healing.  He never tires in his work for the Kingdom. 

Today he encounters some folks who share a tragic story and then ask a very understandable and difficult theological question.  They tell Jesus about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices.” And the question that arises is if these Galileans were sinners, and even more so, were they murdered for their sins.  Why did these people die? Jesus references another tragic event, in which some 18 people were killed when the tower of Siloam fell on them. Again the question is raised, why did these people die? Were they sinful?  Did they die as a result of their sinfulness. Is God issuing some form of divine judgment? And if so, should we be nervous? 

These are common ponderings aren’t they?  Why do bad things happen to good people? Why do earthquakes debilitate 3rd world countries for a generation?  Why do hurricanes regularly level coastlines and why do wildfires continue to decimate communities? Why do our children continue to die at gunpoint?  Why do soldiers face the destruction of war? Why do buildings fall and bridges break? Why do accidents happen to innocent people? Why are women and children sexually assaulted, and whole populations of people abused and neglected for their uniqueness.  Why is cancer so ravenous and destructive? Why do bad things happen to good people? What did they do to deserve this? How did God allow this to happen? 

These are the vulnerable pleas of our faith.  And today that crowd approaches Jesus on our behalf and raises the question of divine judgment or worse, punishment.  

And honestly, these are all truly unfortunate occurrences.  The Galileans killed by Pilate and the 18 killed by the tower of Siloam falling.  They are sad. But the truth is they are completely independent of anyone’s sin or innocence.  

Natural disaster and national tragedies are awful.  Truly unfortunate. Things break. Bridges fail. Towers collapse.  The earth shakes and the mountains tremble. Oceans rage and fires spread.  All terribly sad. But I refuse to believe that any of these tragedies are the result of a victims’ own sins or sinfulness.

Certainly such acts or disaster or tragedy are the result of a sinful person making a sinful decision.   We see this all the time, especially with gun violence now-a-days. Pilate killed the Galileans...a sinful act resulting in unfortunate tragedy.  But I refuse to believe that God is casting divine judgement as punishment for a victim’s individual or corporate sin. 

Being the victim of a tragedy is not punishment for one’s own sin.  Nor is it an indication for sinfulness. Despite what the picketers may say.   And thank God for that, because if it were so, then we would live our lives in constant fear of divine judgment.  We’d constantly be looking over our shoulder. Such tragedies do not teach us about God’s divine judgment or God’s grace.  If anything, such tragedies...like Pilate murdering the Galileans or the tower falling on 18 innocent bystanders..the teach us of the frailty of life.  

And tragedies make life short.  Eighteen people died when a tower fell on them.  These folks were no worse than anyone else. It was a random occurrence, and honestly any of us can be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and become the victim of an accident or tragedy.  This is the kind of fear the crowds laid before Jesus in this morning’s text.

So what do we make of Jesus saying “but unless you repent, you will all perish as they did.” 

At first glance, it seems that Jesus is placing repentance at odds with perishing as divine judgement.  Suggesting that these are your only two choices, and we must decide now. And to not repent means perishing for sinful behaviour.  So choose wisely. No, I suspect Jesus is being a bit more rich than that, in light of the crowds concern with recent tragedy and accident.  

Perapas, rather than interpret Jesus as offering an ultimatum, Jesus is acknowledging that life is short.  Tragedy and accidents can make life short. Too short and too unpredictable in fact, to live an unrepentant life.  And for us to think that human suffering is a result of divine punishment for sinfulness...that’s too easy. Too simple.  So, Repent, Jesus says, because life is too short, and it’d be truly unfortunate to die or perish unrepentant. Seems like a relevant message for the season of Lent, doesn’t it?

This is why we begin Lent with Ash Wed….a humble and vulnerable proclamation that life can be short.  That we will all die one day. And from dust and dust, we proclaim and worship a God who is merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.  God is patient and persistent. Like a patient, passionate gardner...abiding to the fig tree as long as needed.

And the good news is that repentance is less about finding ourselves or working to become a better person as it is about being found by God.  Acknowledging God’s gift of a life and grace. Accepting God’s relentless pursuit of God’s children...regardless of sin or innocence. Repentance isn’t a measure of human ability or achievement.  Repentance is a the full acceptance of God’s abundance. God’s patient and love-filled pursuit. 

And the truth is, we run.  We love to run and resist the abundant love of a patient and passionate God.   And so repentance is to be found. To be found by a persistent God who never relinquished love.  To be found and loved. To be forgiven by grace. Repentance is to acknowledge God finding us, and turn around...with our whole hearts in worship and praise.

This is the power of a more abundant theology.   Repent or perish isn’t an explanation for tragedy or accident as divine judgement or punishment.  Rather, repent or perish is to acknowledge that frailty of life….A life rich with God’s love, and to perish is to deny, ignore, abandon, dismiss, or take for granted that love.  To perish is to live in absence or ignorance of God’s love. And Jesus deeply desires and longs that no one perish.

This brings us back to Lent.  A season dedicated to self assessment and discernment.  For a mere 40 days we identify, name, and turn away from the parts of our life that cause us to perish...to disrupt, dismiss, or destroy our relationship of God.  Our time in Lent is an intentional commitment to being found. 

And when are found, again and again, God, who is slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love, offers us nourishment and nutrient.  God empowers us with love, and waters us with grace. So that we may grow to bear good fruit. Fruit of a God’s gracious love. Fruit of repentance.  Fruit that boasts to the world of a God who creates, nourishes, and nurtures...not punishes and destroys. A God who is compassionate and forgiving, not vengeful and vindictive.  A who God who is empowering and affirming. Abiding and abundant. A God who allows no one to perish. 

Amen. 

© Pastor Daniel Locke, Preached March 24, 2019 @ St. Mark's Lutheran, Jacksonville, FL