Third Sunday in Lent

Isaiah 55:1-9; Luke 13:1-9

Not quite three weeks ago, we began Lent with a cross of ashes on our foreheads and the words, “You are dust and to dust you shall return.” Confronting our mortality can be jarring as we remember the saints who have gone before us or witness a young child receiving the ashen cross. But the ashes aren’t just about death. In Lent, “what seems like an ending is really an invitation to make each day a new beginning, in which we are washed in God's mercy and forgiveness.”[i]

When Mt. St. Helen’s erupted in May 1980 the ash traveled east and, in many places, it was just an awful mess. But, surprising the farmers there, the crops in the breadbasket of the northwest thrived. It turned out that when the ash fell on wheat fields, it sealed the moisture in the ground for the young thirsty plants. There was more happening there than they could see.

This morning in Isaiah and again in the gospel, we hear echoes of the Ash Wednesday plea from the prophet Joel for God’s people to return to God with all our hearts. First, the Lord speaks through the prophet Isaiah to the exiles in Babylonian captivity, telling them, “

6Seek the Lord while he may be found, call upon him while he is near; 7let the wicked forsake their way, and the unrighteous their thoughts; let them return to the Lord, that he may have mercy on them, and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon.

Then speaking to the Galileans, Jesus says, “unless you repent, you shall all perish…”

Like death, repentance is one of those words that makes us uncomfortable; after all, who wants to admit that we have failed, been unrighteous or wicked, and need to change direction?

The Good News today is that even as we confess our sin – what we have done and what we have left undone, or the ways in which we have turned in on ourselves – and we repent – turning around and changing direction – there is more happening there than we can see.

I believe this is why Jesus tells the parable that follows.

Remember, parables are the stories Jesus tells that use familiar parts of the lives of his audience to teach them about God. Maybe it’s human nature but when we hear parables, often, we identify with one of the characters and we assign one of the characters to God.

So, when this parable about the barren fig tree is told, the man who owned the vineyard is described as God.

But that interpretation makes God impatient, even angry and detached. It also makes the One who back in Genesis called all created things “very good” ask, “Why should [this barren tree] be wasting the soil?”

That doesn’t sound like the merciful God who we know from God’s activity in the world or the steadfast God whose promises we hold as hope in broken places.

So, what changes if, instead, we identify the man as the world we live in? Isn’t it more in character for the world to be the impatient one, the one expecting more productivity and faster results? The one to call something, or someone, a waste of space or time and threaten to cut it off or destroy it?

The fig tree itself is the Kingdom of God, the ways we live out the fullness of who God has created us to be as God’s people, and proclaim God’s abundant mercy and forgiveness to everyone. We know it takes time and patience to follow Jesus, and sometimes it doesn’t look like much is happening.

Understanding the parable this way, I believe the caring gardener who has nourished and tended the fig tree and watched it for signs of life and growth is a better depiction of the God whom we know from Scripture, the One who understands there is more happening there than the world can see.

Answering Jesus’ call to return to God – to repent - the parable encourages us to renew our trust in God’s promises, believing that God is faithful and will do what God does: bring life from barrenness and restore hope.

It is not for us to know how. As the Lord continues in the reading from Isaiah,

8For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways, says the Lord. 9For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.

What we do know is that in the waters of baptism God’s mercy is made new every day, and at the Table we are nourished for the journey of discipleship, as we strive to live out our baptismal promises “to live among God's faithful people, to come to the word of God and the holy supper, to be nurtured in faith and prayer, learning to trust God, proclaiming Christ through word and deed, caring for others and the world God made, and working for justice and peace among all people.”[ii]

Our trust in God’s restorative and life-giving promises sets us apart from a world where division sours relationships and corrodes communities and calls us to respond to our neighbors with the same tenderness and mercy that God first gives us, confident  there is more happening there than we can see.

Let us pray…
Holy and nurturing God,
Thank for your tender care and for the joy of salvation that we have in faith.
You call us to repent and return to you; by Your Holy Spirit make us obedient;
Teach us humility and patience that as Your disciples we would bear Your mercy and love in the world.
We pray in the name of Your Son Jesus,
Amen.

[i] “Introduction, Ash Wednesday,” Sundays and Seasons.
[ii] “Affirmation of Baptism,” ELW.