A Sermon preached on Third Sunday in Lent
February 28th at St. Augustine’s, Wiesbaden
Exodus 3:1-15, 1 Corinthians 10:1-13, Luke 13:1-9
But
as for me, I trust in you, O LORD. You are my God, my times are in your hand.[1]
Amen
Today you are
getting two services for the price of one. One is of course our regular Sunday Eucharist
on this Third Sunday in Lent; the other is a commemoration, a Requiem for the life
of Bill Shores. Bill died 20 years ago yesterday, on 27th February
1996. He was both the organist and choir director here at St. Augustine’s
and he also conducted the gospel choir at the evanglische Heilig-Geist-Gemeinde.
We are marking this anniversary by using his favorite settings for the Sanctus
and Agnus Dei, with a choral rendition of Psalm 23 – a psalm often used at burial
services, and with some other elements of our burial office and I also started
this sermon with the same words from Psalm 31 that were used at his funeral. Born
in St. Louis, and trained as an opera singer in New York, Bill lived abroad for
more than 30 years, before coming to Wiesbaden in the late 1960’s. Karl Bell, then
Rector of St. Augustine’s, had this to say in his eulogy:
“Throughout his
time among us, Bill Shores was essentially a very private person. His life seemed to be expressed best through
his musical gifts – and not just his own highly trained voice, but through
music in general – and for St Augustine’s in particular – the many years
devoted to being its organist and music director.”
The circumstances
of Bill’s death were a little sad, he was not well off – but as Ivan can
confirm church music is not a particularly well paid profession, and he was
lonely and he felt alone. To quote from Karl Bell again, “none of us really
KNEW him.”
So, what did he do
to deserve that? And what did the “Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled
with their sacrifices,” (Luke 13:1) that is who had been killed while worshipping
at the Temple, or the “eighteen who were killed when the tower of Siloam fell
on them” (Luke 13:4) do to deserve that? Jesus asks the question that was on everyone’s
mind: Is it because these people were worse sinners than all the other
Galileans or all the others living in Jerusalem that this happened to them? Did
they do something to deserve such an awful death? And Jesus gives the answer:
No. They did not, and nor did Bill. They were not greater sinners or worse
offenders than anyone else.
“What did they do to deserve that,” is a persistent question because we
always want to know why something happens and one persistent assumption is that
there is some form of causality, that somehow what people get in life is what
they deserve: either a reward or a punishment. Of course, that can be the case.
Sometimes we do suffer as a direct
result of some wrong we have done, some bad decision, some action we have
neglected to take. If we mistreat our body, we will suffer. If we mistreat a
friend, we may lose him or her. In part at least Jesus was also warning the
people of Jerusalem that if they continued to hope and strive for a military
Messiah, a political liberator, if they put all their hopes in violence and
armed insurrections, rather than in his teaching and his way of peace, they would
suffer the consequences. And they did, only three decades after Jesus’ death
Jerusalem would be destroyed by the Romans, and many more people would be
killed by the sword in the Temple or when the walls of the city came crashing
down during the siege: “all who take the sword will perish by the sword.” (Matthew
26:52)
But this direct connection is by no means always the case. People can do
good, try hard, follow Jesus, and still suffer – for example we are currently constantly
confronted with news of the persecution of Christians, of their flight from
their traditional homes. We really should not be so surprised when this
happens. The idea that only good things happen to good people should have been
put to rest when Jesus was nailed to the cross. Christian faith is no magic
protection against tragedy. The cross is our central symbol – the cross, where
an innocent man died the death of a criminal.
So, no we can’t look at a death or another tragedy and assume that
someone did something to deserve it. That seems clear. Unfortunately Jesus does
not stop there, he goes on to say: “unless you repent, you will all perish as
they did.” So fault does play a role after all? We perish if we don’t behave? No,
that is not what Jesus is saying. What he wants is a change of focus. Away from
asking why or what did he/she/they do to deserve their fate, away from judging
others on their behaviour?
What Jesus wants us to consider, is our relationship with God. What needs
setting right? What needs repenting, acknowledging, changing and turning
around? What needs to be forgiven? Not only in Lent is it wrong to assume that
our side of the relationship with God is in order. In Paul’s words to the
Corinthians, “if you think you are standing, watch out that you do not fall.” (1
Corinthians 10:12). Have we loved God with all our heart, and soul and strength,
have we loved our neighbours as ourselves? Are we relieving the suffering of
others or just pointing our fingers at them and trying to make a connection between
their suffering and sin?
This is about our side of the relationship to God; because God’s relationship
to us is always in order. God already loves us, unconditionally. We cannot lose
God’s favour and make bad things happen to us, because we did not earn that favour
in the first place, it was a free gift. And God is faithful. But God still
wants us to live into that love, God still wants a response to that love, God still
wants us to become the fully human beings we are created to be. In the words of
the parable, we heard this morning, God wants us bear the fruit we are supposed
to bear.
That parable of the fig tree is about God’s love and compassion. The
gardener in this story is extravagant and generous. It would be so much easier just
to cut the tree down and plant a new one in its place. Instead, he is going to use,
possibly even waste, more water, nutrients, efforts, and space on a tree that does
not show any signs of producing figs. Just like the gardener, Jesus came to water
us with the water of life, and to nourish us with the bread of life, to train
us and form us, to do everything possible so that we bear the fruit we are
supposed to bear.
Part of that “bearing fruit” is not to ignore tragedies, and just focus
on ourselves, that is not a message I want you to take home with you. In the
face of tragedy and loss, we are called to ask the right questions and do the
right actions. The question is not, what did the people who suffered do to
deserve it, but what can I do to help the survivors? How can we welcome, house,
feed, keep those safe who flee persecution. What can I or we do to prevent a repetition?
What can I or we do to stop the cycle of violence and conflict that is behind
so many of manmade tragedies in this world? Moving a little closer to home and reflecting
on Bill Shores’ story, what can I do to befriend and bring comfort to the
lonely, what can I do to seek out those in need of companionship? We will
perish if we do not repent, for to repent is to turn back to God and back
to our neighbour and back to the full, loving, and nurturing relationship,
which will enable us to bear fruit.
Amen.
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