Third Sunday of Lent C
March 3, 2013
Responsorial Psalm: 103: 1-2, 3-4, 6-7, 8, 11
Reading II: 1 Corinthians 10:1-6, 10-12
Gospel: Luke 13:1-9
Some people told Jesus about the Galileans
whose blood Pilate had mingled with the blood of their sacrifices.
Jesus said to them in reply,
“Do you think that because these Galileans suffered in this way
they were greater sinners than all other Galileans?
By no means!
But I tell you, if you do not repent,
you will all perish as they did!
Or those eighteen people who were killed
when the tower at Siloam fell on them—
do you think they were more guilty
than everyone else who lived in Jerusalem?
By no means!
But I tell you, if you do not repent,
you will all perish as they did!”
The first readings in the Sundays of Lent bring us archetypal images of god intervening to make some change in the human situation. Last week it was god's initiative to bind godself by covenant to give Abraham a place to put down new roots. There is no limit to how deep this idea goes.
The creator is using human terminology to impress on humankind that god is committed to our welfare.
In this third Sunday we have the story of Moses confronted by the untouchable spirit manifest in a blazing fire that leaves the scrub unburnt, and a voice which says: I am the one who makes things happen.
Explaining that the meaning of the famous "I am who am" is still a matter of debate among scholars, an article in Celebration provides us with the following explanation: 'The enigmatic formula in Ex 3:14 means "I am what I am". If transposed into the form in the third person required by the causative, Yahweh can only become Hahweh asher yihweh (later yihyeh) which means 'He causes to be what comes into existence!' To put it another way, God is cause and creator of all that is' [William F. Albright, Yahweh and the Gods of Canaan, London 1968] Hence the god who was revealed to Moses at the burning bush was revealed not metaphysically but realistically, as the Causing One; the Creator, the God who acts.'
(Celebration is a monthly liturgical resource providing a large amount of material: www.celebrationpublications.org)
What god was making happen was the liberation of captive slaves. But this is not a one-off super-event for one bunch of 'chosen people'. It is archetypal, which means it is an image basic to the human way of thinking. Humankind needs liberation from situations that are chaining us down.
Sometimes the chains are imposed by others; sometimes they are within the self - the way we are put together; sometimes they are the results of choices we have made - mistakes that have locked us into some nasty place, an attitude, a relationship, even a mentality. The very way we see the world may be conditioned by something that is not healthy, not a necessary part of our existence, a bind - often referred to either as original sin or as human frailty. We all long to be set free. We might be born innocent and free, but by the time we reach maturity we are conscious of sticky webs that hamper the movement of life in us.
So it is that when disaster falls, viewing the world as slaves as we do, we imagine that someone is being punished for some fault they did, even maybe without knowing they were doing wrong. Jesus was at pains to convince his disciples that this interpretation does not have legs. Disasters just happen. Accidents like buildings falling down, or planes crashing, or Tsunamis or earthquakes just happen. Human life is hard: armies invade and occupy our towns and cities; tyrants keep order by cruelty; some individuals turn out to be predators; disease brings us down; people die. It is not a matter of fault or blame or punishment. It happens.
It is strange how resistant we are to this piece of good news. IT'S NOT YOUR FAULT! We hear it often enough, but rare is the person who is thoroughly convinced. For me, it's something I wake up to now and then in response to some unexpected gift of grace or good fortune, and for a while I'm warmed by a wonderful glow. I know I am loved in the place I occupy in the universe.
*****
However, the gospel has Jesus making another point. He takes occasion of this event to move on to another teaching. But strangely, in what he says it's not clear what he means. He tells his troubled disciples: "Unless you change you will all likewise perish."
Most bibles have: "Unless you repent..." There is that word again! The Greek has metanoia - change, which points to something that is not really what we think of as repentance. The change we are talking about is a far-reaching, all-encompassing change of thinking, of priorities, of choices, of outlook. Forget about sin and guilt; think of a new outlook.
If you wanted to apply this to the present moment in the church's stumbling journey down the course of ages you would see the leaders discussing ways of making a new start, starting with a thorough spring-cleaning of the house. Like the Jewish people they would be throwing out the old leaven, throwing musty traditions in a heap to be burnt by that cleansing fire of the spirit. They would be helping one another - challenging one another to open their minds to whatever way the god who makes things happen might want to lead his people to a new experience of freedom.
"Unless you change you will all likewise perish."
- 'perish in a like manner' - your end will be like theirs.
This seems to be a puzzle that has to be unravelled like a very tangled ball of string. 'Likewise perish' - Like the way they perished? By accident? By disaster? By the famous 'Armageddon'? I don't think so. I have batted this phrase around until it seems to come down to this: Beyond the immediate cause of their sudden deaths - accident or cruelty - is the shocking fact that their deaths were pointless. They were a waste, a cruel, meaningless, regrettable waste of good lives. Isn't this our common reaction to every massacre that occurs, to every car-bomb exploding in a busy marketplace, to every plane or ship going down due to human error, to the regular count of deaths on our roads? What a waste! It is so pointless!
But then comes the question: What else? What about their lives? Were they also wasted? Were their lives pointless?
And so we finally discover what I think Jesus was getting at: Unless you make that deep radical change in the way you see things, in the way you view life and order your priorities, in where you put your values, then your life is pointless and your death will be pointless too, like those killed by the tower or the tyrant's soldiers. What a waste!
So you have to change to make sure your life has some point to it. Some meaning. Some purpose. Some value. Then when you die, your death will not be like theirs - pointless, but it will be like Jesus' death in fact, for he was outstanding in giving purpose to his living and dying - the purpose of serving everyone. He died as he lived, and he lived for love, for service. This is the metanoia called for, the change of thinking, the change of heart.
No more coasting along, getting up - going to work - coming home - eating - sleeping - to do it all over again... What's the point? Where is the point in my life? Whom do I serve with love? For whom will my dying be the last and greatest expression of my love, even as I depart finally from their immediate physical company?
And looking again at the coming conclave, they will be asking: What is the point of all this pomp and ceremony, these titles and these rituals? While we are enslaved by all this empty show, what opportunities are we blind to by way of bringing the good news of liberation to humankind?
I wonder does the clown still appear before the pope at his installment. He used to hold up a twist of straw and light it, causing it to flare for a moment and fall away in a little cloud of smoke and blackened ash. And he would call out for all to hear: Sic transit gloria mundi. Your worldly glory - gone, in a little puff of smoke.
*****
A question still niggles away: Why would Jesus repeat this demand for change over and over again, even using an episode like this that turned out to be not the clearest piece of teaching ever? Why?
Well, how many people actually live with an awareness of the need for daily metanoia. And yet this is the essence of the Way that Jesus takes us along. We put a lot of time into searching for the meaning of christianity, trying to identify a goal that would explain the christian purpose (such as having the ability to make perfect moral choices). Perhaps it is more important to look at where to start, at the departure point, what it takes to launch our ship on the sea of life under the christian flag. Once afloat and making headway, the purpose and the intermediate goals will become clear, until we reach that stage where the act of rowing is itself enough to occupy us hour by hour, day by day, confident that the spirit guides our every stroke and takes care of the steering.
In Rome I wonder will they make metanoia their starting point, not only in choosing the next leader, but in expressing what they expect him to do during his term in office. I wonder how many will hear the spirit's prompting to cast out the old stale yeast. I wonder how many will hear Jesus saying: Launch out into the deep water. I wonder if anyone would be game to walk into that Sistine Chapel in common dress, showing his simple humanity as one who believes in the Son of Man whom he tries to follow.
I wonder how long we'll wait before we see one standing on the famous balcony, newly vested in his papal glory, strip off his fancy robes and in shirt sleeves like the common man he is, address the crowds as one of them, asking their help in finding the way to freedom.
I wonder how many surrender in their hearts to the One who makes things happen, allowing that One to make the running while they cast off all that clutters their lives, everything that could weight them down on a desert journey.