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Thought for the Week 7 March – Third Sunday of Lent
One
of the commentaries on Isaiah provides sub-titles for the various sections of
the text. The sub-title for today’s reading is “An Invitation to Abundant Life”. There
are two parts to this reading and we know them both quite well, although it
is the second part with which we are probably most familiar because it is
also a Canticle used in Morning Prayer. God is wonderfully transparent in
this Canticle. Likening God’s interaction with people to the cycle of rain,
crop growth, generating both seed and bread, and moisture returning to the
heavens in the form of evaporation is a metaphor we can find very
comfortable, and understandable. All we are asked to accept is that God’s
thoughts are more profound than ours, but that God waits patiently to forgive
us every time we stray. Cling
to that comfortable feeling, for the remaining lessons pick up on that mild
word “stray” and concentrate on its big brother “sin”. Given
that this is the third Sunday in the penitential season of Lent, it
would perhaps be too much to expect something cheerful. Examples
of destruction are connected to repentance in the other two lessons,
reminding us of the notion that “the wages of sin is death”. There seems to be
some kind of inference that we are continually sinning, and sinning in a big
way. But isn’t it a bit illogical that anyone would murder and rob and
pillage and repent, then do it all over again? Very large sins are invariably
also very large crimes, and murder in particular is usually, though not
always, a one-time event. Most murderers do the deed out of anger,
frustration or as a consequence of finding themselves in untenable
situations. such as being caught in the act of robbing a convenience store. It
may take them a long time to reach the stage of repentance because first they
have to deal with both the circumstances and the consequences. The
Christian response understands justice but also asks such questions as: What
part of their life, background and circumstances has caused them to run with
gangs, to desire the property of others, or to satisfy their needs by
stealing rather than by working? There
are always many questions to be asked and answered when we want to look at
big crimes, which are also of course big sins. If
you were a Viking, however, and part of a marauding crew aboard one of the
sleek and fast Viking ships which swept down from the North, then up one of
the many rivers or estuaries on England during the 11th Century,
murder, robbery rape and pillage was what you were there to do. It was part
of a proven successful way to make new settlements. Kill
off the men folk first, of course. Leaving any alive would invite revenge and
attacks in the night, but removing them all, swiftly, with the club and the
dreadful two-sided ax made settlement relatively easy. The womenfolk were
there for the taking, the children were become tractable, the homes were
there for the occupying and a new settlement would be quickly established. I
don’t think the Vikings considered their activities sinful, even though they
did have a clear form of government and a structured society. When
we read lessons like those today, we can really begin to wonder what sin
actually is, and things these days are less black and white than they have
been in the past. There
was a raging controversy, for instance, during the Pelagian heresy that
suggested that sin was actually a substance. Happily there is no truth to
that idea but the controversy did help to show that there is indeed a
presence of evil in the world, and that this is different in some way from
sin. Sin, in effect, acquired a definition. It is defined as “the deliberate
separation from God’s grace”. The
only problem with definitions is that they usually take a lot of explaining,
and this one is no exception. A
famous professor of Greek, who had a lively sense of humor, used to say there
was a good solution for mothers who really did not want their sons to be
ministers and would rather they had become doctors instead. Playing on the Greek word for sin he would advise these mothers to
tell their friends “My son is a prominent Harmatologist”. Harmatology
is indeed the theologian’s word for the study of sin, but before any of you
rush to take it up, remember that it is all theoretical. You do not actually
have to do the sin in order to
study it – in fact that is discouraged. However,
here’s an interesting question for you. The Commandments that Moses received became
the basis for the Hebrew understanding of sin, and of course, they are also
the basis for the civil laws of almost every country. You must decide if,
therefore, breaking the law is also a sin. Several
of the prophets had long tried to explain that suffering does not come by the
will of God, yet in the time of Jesus and Paul the notion that illness and
misfortune were God’s punishments for sins was quite prevalent. Paul
seems to be in sympathy with this view, and in today’s lesson raises the
historical example that many people died after the incident of the golden
calf, while Moses was on Mt. Horeb receiving the Commandments from God. The
legend had it that God struck down all those who had worshiped the idol. In
Cecil B. de Mille’s version, you may recall, they not only worshiped the idol
but also engaged in all kinds of riotous and lecherous and debauched
celebration. Paul then goes on to warns the people of Corinth that they too
may fall if they fail to resist temptation.
And
in the gospel, Jesus is reminded of an incident in which a number of
Galileans were brutally slaughtered by Pontius Pilate’s soldiers while they
were in the act of presenting their sacrifices, In this horrific act, the
blood of the victims was mingled with the blood of the sacrificial animals. Jesus
told them that the sin was not that of the Galileans, but of Pilate’s cruelty
– yet why, we would wonder, would the suggestion of the Galileans guilt even
occur to them? The
answer is that blood was a powerful factor to the Jews. It represented the
purity of the race, and preserving the race was of paramount importance to a
people who considered themselves exclusive and Chosen by God. Their
understanding of sin had become formalized and inflexible, and there was also
the element of ignorance. They believed it was their own fault if their blood
became defiled by mingling with the blood of animals or outsiders. The laws
really were meant to preserve the race, but the people by then were taking
the words of the law literally. We
are not entirely immune from literal understandings either. We
can all remember some of those “what if” questions as we were learning the
rules. These are the questions that
try the patience of parents and Sunday School teachers – and to the
irritation of others, some of us never quite stop asking them. The
people telling Jesus about the incident were basically asking a “what if”
question so Jesus countered this disaster with another that he knew about.
Eighteen people had died when the tower of Siloam had fallen on them. Before
the tower fell on them there was nothing to indicate that they were sinners,
any more than anyone else. Jesus therefore corrects a false belief. There was
no reason to believe that either group was more sinful than any other. We
have inherited most of this history about sin, and some of the baggage that
goes with it. We
threaten our children and each other using the kinds of retribution Paul
likes to use in order to make our points and to oblige people – or the kids –
to behave, Better,
really, that we focus upon the lessons found in Jesus’ little story about the
fig tree. The landlord agrees with the gardener that the tree be forgiven its
sins, if you will, and given more time, but also stipulates that it also
receive care and attention and nurture so
that it has a good chance of bearing fruit at last. Only
if it resists all attempts to make it healthy and grow and bear fruit, will
the gardener agree that it should be cut down. Every
person, every sinner if you will, must be given that same kind of
opportunity, and God does just that. Despite
all that has been written about sin by Augustine, and Aquinas and Luther and
Calvin and Zwingli, all prominent Harmatologists, the fact remains that
explaining the basic definition should be fairly simple. It has to do with
the conscious awareness that everyone has, one way or another, of God as
creator and participant in our lives. Everyone has it, despite the infinite
variances possible in the tapestry of human nature; The least educated have
it and the most. And whether or not we learn more about God, or make the
discovery of Jesus Christ in our lives, we all have a sense of what is right
and what is wrong. Not in all the same way – not in all the same degree, not
always in conformity with law, but humans need a code to live by, or a code
to break. Living
by it is a virtue – breaking it is a sin – breaking it and resolving not to
break it again is repentance. The
message today is to repent. Is
it the call to repentance we used to hear from the colorful fanatic on the
soapbox on the street corner? Do the words “repent, the end is nigh” mean
anything to us? Probably not. Still, there is a certain sense to that
quaint expression. It reminds us that things as know them will come to an
end, and that the word “repent” can mean such things as “review” “turn
around” and “change”. Therefore
it can also imply pausing and taking stock. During
this season of Lent, I think that is what we should be doing. Locking at our
lives, our relationships, our possessions, our needs and wishes. Looking at
our habits, our attitudes, and at those opinions we hold dear that may be a
bit off key. Taking
stock means being willing to make some changes, some paring down, some
reform, some improvement. It means keeping the worthwhile and throwing out
the shoddy and worn out. Taking
stock means making room for something new and refreshing and worth keeping. Repentance
is all these things, because it is fundamentally about resolves. The
Canticle reminds us, and Jesus reinforces, that God is infinitely patient,
infinitely aware of us as humans who are subject to so many influences, not
all of our own making or choosing, yet heir to extraordinary gifts. The
fig tree motif seems to be a clear metaphor: God is always wanting to give us
not only the chance to bear fruit, but to give us the time and nurture to
make it possible. So,
as Lent goes on, consider a little moral stocktaking. Then turn to God having
made room for some new stuff, and invite God to fill the space for you. Revd
Tony Jewiss: Anglican Chaplaincy of Midi-Pyrénées & Aude To return to main Thought for the Week page, click X at top right to close this window. |