Obviously

“Obviously” was preached at Sunnyside Presbyterian Church on Sunday, March 24, 2019. Inspirations for this sermon included Scripture, commentaries, and both personal & shared experiences. You can listen to an audio clip of this sermon here. You can watch a video of the entire worship service here.

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Luke 13:1-9

1 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.’”

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Take a second and imagine this with me:

There’s a small apple tree in your yard. Every fall, you saw the tree filled with fruit. For years the tree provided you with the most delicious of apples; a quick and easy snack to grab as you pleased.  Until one year, the tree didn’t provide you a multitude of apples. In fact, there were no apples that year. Or the next year. Or the next.

What would do you?

Would you give the tree one more year? Would you tend to this tree that was now barren? Do you have hope that all it needs is just a little more extra care?

Or would you cut it down? Would you replace it with a new tree? How long would you be willing to wait for this new tree to produce apples?

Now, due to the Gospel passage we all just heard, we have an idea of what we should do. Helpful hint: it’s keep the tree for one more year. Right?

But let’s be honest. If this is an actual tree that we’re talking about and not some analogy with a deeper meaning on judgement and grace or lifelessness and resurrection; if this was an actual apple tree in our backyard that hasn’t produced fruit in three years, how many of us would cut that tree down? How many of us would plant a new apple tree? And how many would just go get our apples from the closest Martin’s? If we’re just talking trees and apples here, I’m choosing the latter choice. Obviously.

But we’re not just talking trees and apples or just trees and figs. This is a parable of Jesus, and we know there is a much deeper meaning than the convenience of a healthy snack.

In Jesus’s parable, there is a vineyard owner and a gardener. The vineyard owner, after seeing a fig tree that has been barren for three years, tells his gardener to cut it down. But the gardener tells the vineyard owner to let the tree have one more year and he, the gardener, will tend to it, he will dig around it, he will lay manure to surround it; he will give it the extra special care that it needs. And if, after all that special care, if then the tree fails to produce any figs, should it be cut down.

As you might guess, in this parable, humankind is the barren tree. And sometimes, individuals as a part of humankind, are the barren trees. So to interpret ourselves into this parable, I want to approach it from three different moments where we find ourselves: the moments when we become the barren tree, the moments when we are the barren tree, and the moments when our barren tree is brought back to life.

I’m going to return to the first moment later in this sermon, the moment when we become the barren tree. Instead, I will start with when we are the barren tree.

In moments when we feel like we are fruitless or even lifeless, perhaps when we feel our perceived sin is at its greatest, God responds with the extra special care we need; with compassion and love and grace. And when God responds with that care in the times we need it most, it is our responsibility to respond with a willingness to be brought back to life. Because while God’s patience is great and while it can last forever, our own lives do not, which means when we become lifeless or when we sin, we must repent and turn back to God because we can’t be brought back to life without God. We would just remain the lifeless, barren tree that we are. And at any moment, that tree can be cut down, maybe through a tower falling or a mosque shooting, through a car accident or through cancer, that tree can be cut down.

I admit I sometimes get nervous saying things like that, to “repent or perish,” which is the actual heading of this passage. I get nervous preaching that because I don’t want any of us to interpret this passage out of misguided fear. The reason we repent is not solely for the reason that if we don’t, our tree will be cut down; we repent because as I said: when we need to repent, God responds with extra special care, with love and grace. And when we’re feeling lifeless, feeling extra love and grace is exactly what we need. And because we need it, we repent so that we’re given more. We repent to continue to receive the love and grace that God provides when we need it most.

And so when our tree is brought back to life, when we are brought back to life, we see that no barren tree, no person no matter the circumstance, is beyond the redeeming, reconciling power of 

God. This includes ourselves and our neighbors. None of us, not a single human being, gets to declare when the time for Jesus to restore is up. Because every time God sees a person that needs attention, God responds as a faithful Gardener. God says, “Give me time. Let me dig and tend. Let me nurture and nourish, prune and water. From me, expect transformation, growth, and fruit. Then we’ll all see what happens. Don’t cut it dead just yet.” That is what God our Gardener says.

Because the truth for all of us is that God sees none of us as a problem. God calls us to repent and be reconciled, and God will call us to do this through extraordinary measures to make sure this happens. And no amount of death, physical or metaphorical, can stop what God will do: resurrect, restore, and redeem.

So we’ve addressed what God is doing when we are the barren trees and when our barren trees are brought back to life. But why do we become the barren trees in the first place? Friends, that’s a tough one.

I can tell you that we become lifeless due to sin, but sin in itself is complicated to explain. The word “sin” has origins in archery actually, like missing the center of a target. To sin means to miss the mark of what God intended. And sometimes we don’t know what God intended, which means at times it’s actually pretty easy to miss the mark. Whether intentional or not, whether by our own means or by the means of others, we all miss the mark of what God intended.

When we are the barren trees, I mentioned this might be at moments when our perceived sin is at our greatest. I say “perceived sin” because I don’t think sin is specific actions that can always be named, but rather it’s whenever we miss the mark of what God intended. We become a barren tree when we believe that God can’t correct the mark that we missed.

I want to share a quick story with all of you.

When I was thirteen, around the same age as our confirmation students, my youth group went on a two-hour trip to a waterpark. During that trip, while we were all on the bus, two of our youth leaders were having a conversation about a same-sex couple they knew. This couple they were talking about had been trying to have a baby for several years, but unfortunately, each time one of them became pregnant, the pregnancy would end in a miscarriage. I’ll never forget what one of my youth leaders said as to why this was the case. The words are seared into my memories. She said, “Obviously this is God punishing them for the lifestyle they live.”

I apologize for how offensive this is, especially for those of you who have experienced any kind of loss during pregnancy, whether your own or someone you love. And although I wasn’t even certain if I believed these words for myself, my youth leader’s words were the ones I believed the church believed. For many years, I was deeply hurt by the church. I spent my years as a youth angry at the church and angry at God. And for several other reasons along the way, I refused to go back to church. When it came to my own relationship with God, I felt lifeless.

But here I am, a pastor in a church, with a focus in youth ministry. Part of the reason I am is because one day I knew that God wanted me to make sure the youth in my life never hear a message of poor theology that harms their relationship with God rather than lifts up their relationship with God.

To believe God punishes a certain group of people because their perceived sin is greater than their neighbors is poor and inaccurate theology. What did Jesus say about the Galileans who were killed? What did Jesus say about the eighteen that died when the Tower of Siloam fell on them? Were their sins any worse than their neighbors? Were they killed because of these sins? Twice, to make it clear, Jesus declares, “No!” They did not die because their sins were worse; in fact, they didn’t die because of their sins at all. Although tragic, their deaths happened and from the perspective of humankind, happened at random, and were beyond any of our control.

So isn’t that message still true today?

When 50 people of the Muslim faith are killed in a mosque shooting? When nearly three thousand died in the September 11 attacks? When 17 million were murdered during the Holocaust, 6 million of which were European Jews, two-thirds of that specific Jewish population?

How about when a teenager hears a poor message about God from someone they trust? Or what about a parent who loses a child? What about those who struggle with depression? Or those who fight off cancer?

What does Christ say about them?

It’s not out of punishment, I can tell you that. Christ says that those are the ones who need extra care right now. Those are the ones who need Christ’s love and grace more than ever. There’s nothing obvious about why bad things happen, or why we might feel like barrens trees at times, but Scripture reveals that the way Christ responds to our lifelessness with love; now that’s more obvious.

I believe I first heard my call to ministry when I was 13-years-old, the day that I heard that message. I didn’t realize this until I was 21. Because when I entered into a moment of lifelessness, I needed nearly ten years for God to transform me into a person with a call to serve God and the people of God. During that time God cared for me with love and grace through the people in my lives, with parents who loved me, with friends who encouraged me, and with mentors who empowered me. Obviously this was God the Gardener at work.

I urge you to remember this:

So much of what’s been labeled broken, impossible, and dead is ripe for radical, God-revealing transformation, growth, and new life. That’s the promise of the resurrection. Obviously.

Let’s go back to that scenario:

You’re back in your backyard, and you see that apple tree that once produced a multitude of apples that you’ve enjoyed over the years. Due to unforeseen circumstances, reasons beyond your control, that tree is now barren.

And if that tree is more than just a tree, and if that tree represents a youth who is lost, a neighbor in need, a stranger who is grieving, or even yourself, possibly angry or hurt at the world and at God, what do you do with that tree?

Do you cut down or do you tend to it with extra special care, with love and grace, in the same way we know that God does?

The answer is obvious.

Thanks be to God. Amen.

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Voices of Lament

“Voices of Lament” was preached on March 17, 2019 at Sunnyside Presbyterian Church. Inspirations for this sermon included Scripture, commentaries, research on hens, the sermon-writing process, current events, and reflection by my friend Rev. Allie Smith. You can listen to an audio clip of this sermon here.

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Luke 13:31-35

31 At that very hour some Pharisees came and said to him, “Get away from here, for Herod wants to kill you.” 32 He said to them, “Go and tell that fox for me, ‘Listen, I am casting out demons and performing cures today and tomorrow, and on the third day I finish my work. 33 Yet today, tomorrow, and the next day I must be on my way, because it is impossible for a prophet to be killed outside of Jerusalem.’ 34 Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing! 35 See, your house is left to you. And I tell you, you will not see me until the time comes when you say, ‘Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.’”

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 “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!”

Friends, the last year we have seen and felt that death is around us. You know what I mean. Whether it is the physical death of someone we love or the end of a relationship, both have been experienced in life lately. This includes wives, daughters, husbands, sons, parents, grandparents, sisters, and brothers. They died, and that hurts us, unbearably so at times. Even the South Bend community lost students to death due to car accidents and even murder. And Indiana lost three children to death as they got out of their bus. Death is around us, and death comes with pain and heartache. And it’s so crushing, it feels like our breath is taken out of our bodies, but yet still we cry to God.

“Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!”

In the last month, our own country was hit by even type of weather possible. I’m sure the world felt the same. Blizzards in the west, storms in the east, tornadoes in the middle. And I’m not just talking about light weather. Part of our country experienced avalanches and hurricanes, and other parts experienced flooding and wind so fierce it ripped buildings apart. They were mudslides and earthquakes, and even polar vortexes. And we all felt that, and those experiencing homelessness felt it even worse. So we make small talk about it; we talk about this “crazy” weather, but then we remember the lives lost in it, and we cry to God.

“Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!”

And then in the last week, 50 people were shot down and killed in two Christchurch mosques in New Zealand, and at least 34 others are still in nearby hospitals being treated for their injuries, some critical. And while the majority of the world grieves for the deaths of people they do not know in this terrorist attack, others seem to look past it, as the victims are Muslim. And for some, apparently death does not matter when it is a Muslim person who is murdered, which makes my heart break even more because we fail to see the image of God in all people, and so I cry out and you cry out:

“Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!”

I witness these stories of death in our own lives by natural causes and accidents, across the country due to weather, and across the world due to terrorist attacks; and I understand why Jesus was the first to cry out:

“Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!”

Today, from the Gospel of Luke, we read five verses; just five verses. And it’s not a well known passage, but I’m sure you all know its context. Jesus is currently telling parables and healing the sick. Typical Jesus, am I right? While he is doing this, this warning comes to him: that Herod has plans to kill him. And let’s be clear, as I said, Jesus is telling parables and healing the sick, which I would argue are acts of love and mercy, but in those acts, his life is threatened. So it’s really no question when Jesus responds in the way that he does: he becomes frustrated, probably both angry and sad, and laments over Jerusalem for the threat against his life for doing acts of love. And because there is a threat against his life and because it’s not his time yet, Jesus leaves Jerusalem to continue his ministry: to tell parables and to heal the sick. It is also at this time that Jesus states he won’t return to Jerusalem until the people cry out, “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.” Those words might sound familiar, as those are the words spoken as Jesus rode the colt into the holy city of Jerusalem, as people waved palm branches and shouted, “Hosanna! Hosanna!”

So in the second Sunday of Lent, Jesus leaves Jerusalem, to which he will return as we wave our palm branches on Palm Sunday, four weeks from now. A full-circle journey, a journey that we are on as well.

But what really strikes me in this passage is Jesus’ lament over Jerusalem. Hear it again: “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!”

As I prepared for this sermon and as I read commentaries and explanations of this passage, I came across this story about a hen:

“After a forest fire in Yellowstone National Park, forest rangers began their trek up a mountain to assess the inferno’s damage. One ranger found a hen literally petrified in ashes, charred to the bone. It was perched statuesquely on the ground at the base of a tree. Somewhat sickened by the eerie sight, he knocked over the bird with a stick.

When he struck it, three tiny chicks scurried from under their dead mother’s wings. The loving mother, keenly aware of impending disaster, had gathered her offspring under her wings. She could have left for safety, but she had refused to abandon her babies.

When the blaze had arrived and the heat had scorched her small body, the mother had remained steadfast. Because she had been willing to die, so those under the cover of her wings would live.”

Beautiful story, right? This story is gold for preachers. This story is gold for parishioners. Jesus compares a hen covering her offspring with her wings to his own desire to gather his children under his arms. And this story is exactly that; a hen that was willing to die for her children, in the same way that Jesus died for his children, for us.

But then I noticed something, each commentary had minor but different details to the story. In one commentary it was a hen and in another it was a robin, and in one story, this all took place in in Yellowstone National Park and another took place in a barn. Even the ranger became a farmer at some point.

So being the faithful preacher that I am, I figured I would find the original story to use as the beautiful, uplifting symbolic illustration on how great this hen is and how this hen represents Jesus.

That is until after a quick and easy google search, I found out this story was made up by preachers to be a beautiful, uplifting symbolic illustration for their sermons. Then I realized that most pastors preach from the pulpit that lying is bad unless it’s for the sake of creating a really good story for a sermon.

So this story is made up, and I apologize to those of you who thought this story was poetic or beautiful or sacred or inspirational, because I did too. And then it wasn’t.

But! In my google search for the hen that protects her offspring in the fire, I found pictures and videos of hens protecting their offspring from other things. In one video, there was a hen with her wings outstretched with her chicks under them as rain poured on her, the mother. In another video, a hen chased a cat away. Then there was others video of a hen chasing away a dog… and a hawk… and even a small child, that one was hilarious, but still fitting for today’s symbolic illustration.

And then it hit me, while looking for Jesus through one story, Jesus came to me in unexpected stories. Which then made me realize this passage is complicated and short but yet as easy as one, two, three:

One – God comes to us.
Two – Sometimes we resist when God comes to us, through our own acts or through the acts of the world.
Three – God still comes to us.

And in step two, when we are resisting that love, that’s where we hear the voices of lament, either Jesus’ or our own. And that’s okay because although it hurts which causes us to lament, it’s part of the three step process and God will still come to us.

“Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!”

Friends, we experience death every day, like a disaster of flames and smoke choking us out, and we cry, “How long, O Lord, how long?”

But Christ is there with us our lament, crying with us while sheltering us.

I leave you all with this, the opening and closing words of a reflection on this passage written by my friend and colleague in ministry, The Rev. Allie Smith:

“Gathered beneath the sheltering wings of God; protected behind the strong shield of God; washed by the tears of our grieving God … People of God: take heart in this moment. God, your God, is working for your life and salvation. God, your God, is bringing you home. Beneath God’s mothering wings: even in death, you shall live.”

Thanks be to God. Amen.

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