A Grace Period

Luke 13:1-9

Isn’t that typical of human nature? We’re quick to complain about the inadequacies of others, to point out their faults and shortcomings, when we ourselves are guilty of the same things. Yet, somehow we don’t seem to see those flaws in our own lives. And as a result, we often fail to repent of them and give them to God. Jesus addressed that very issue in our Gospel lesson for today. Apparently there was a group of Jews, who came to Him with a nasty report. They told Him about some Galileans, who had gone up to the temple in Jerusalem for Passover to make their sacrifices. In the process they had been slaughtered by Pontius Pilate’s soldiers.

Historically, we don’t know what specific event this refers to. But in modern terms, we could think of it as a group of Christians, worshipping in their sanctuary on a Sunday morning, when all of sudden a band of terrorists burst in with machine guns, and mows them down at the altar while their receiving Holy Communion, so that their blood is mingled with the sacramental wine. What a heinous act! No doubt we would be appalled. And yet in that sadistic twist of sinful human nature, we might wonder what they had done wrong that God should punish them so.

Well, that was the reaction of the Jews in our text. Traditionally, there was always a kind of rivalry between the Judeans and the Galileans, since we know from the Old Testament that the Northern Kingdom, including Galilee, had a more pronounced history of idolatry and apostasy. And so, the Jewish audience Jesus was addressing might assume that God was more likely to punish the Galileans, because they were more wicked people. Jesus was quick to point out that there were also those 18 Judeans who were crushed to death, when the tower of Siloam accidentally fell on them. His point is quite clear - tragic accidents can strike anyone, anywhere at any time. And no one, including God’s people, faithful or unfaithful, are exempt.

Unfortunately, too often when such tragedies happen, we forget that. We let our human nature get the best of us, and like Jobs friends, we think the victims must’ve done something wrong. More to the point, like the Jews in our text, we deceive ourselves into thinking that we are somehow holier than others. We think to ourselves: look at the sexually immoral person who dies from some diesease. God must be punishing him for his sins. Or look at the drug addict who dies from an overdose. God must be punishing her for her sins. Or look at that cheating, conniving businessman who was killed in a car accident. God must be punishing him for his sins. But not me. I’m not being punished like that. So I must be above reproach. I must be one of the good guys.

To counteract that kind of false thinking, in our text Jesus said: “DO YOU THINK THAT THESE GALILEANS WERE WORSE SINNERS THAN ALL THE OTHER GALILEANS, BECAUSE THEY SUFFERED THIS WAY? I TELL YOU, NO! BUT UNLESS YOU ALSO REPENT, YOU TOO WILL PERISH!” Jesus is reminding us that by nature, we are just as filthy and despicable as the dishonest businessman;, just as addicted to sin as the drug addict, just as lustful and unclean as those who are sexually immoral. Because it doesn’t matter how much you sin, or even what kind of sin you commit, you and I are still by nature dirty rotten sinners. The bad things that happen in life are NOT God’s way of approving of some people and disapproving of others, because as far as He’s concerned we all deserve disapproval.

In fact, as our text indicates, we deserve the ultimate disapproval - to perish in hell. Indeed, the word perish literally means: ‘to come undone,’ like a piece string unraveling. It’s the comic scene you see in the movies once in awhile, where a person starts to pull on a loose thread and before you know it, their whole coat has disintegrated. Such is the outcome of impenitent sin. Our lives fall apart. Our soul winds up unraveling eternally. And the only way to escape that is to confess our sins and give them to Jesus, to repent or perish.

For you see, our loving God is the God of the Grace Period. It’s like when you purchase something on credit. There is often a grace period, where you can miss a payment without any penalty. Well, God’s blessing of forgiveness and salvation to you and me is totally by grace. It’s all on credit. Jesus lived a perfect life on our behalf, in order to credit to our account all His goodness and righteousness, which makes us pleasing in God’s sight. And then He gave His lifeblood on the cross as the atoning sacrifice to pay off the debt of our sin in total. And all of that we receive as a free gift, simply through faith in Jesus Christ. That is our Grace Period. And that Grace period is right now. Now is the time to repent and believe!

Which is what Jesus was getting at, when He told the parable of the fig tree in our text. Here was this fig tree - three years old, the normal maturing time for a fig tree - and still it had not once produced any fruit. Naturally the owner wanted to chop it down, because it was useless. But then the vinedresser intercedes. “Just give it one more chance,” he pleads. “Let me have one more year to dig around it, so that the sun and rain can get to it better. Let me have time to fertilize it. And then, if it does not produce, then you can chop it down!”

Dear friends, that Vinedresser is Jesus Christ our Savior. He’s the One, who intercedes with the Father on our behalf. Even though we don’t always repent, even though we don’t always bear fruit in keeping with repentance, He begs and pleads with the Father that we might be spared, that we might not be chopped down and hurled into the fires of hell, but that we might be restored and replanted in the Gardens of Heaven. Like the vinedresser in our text, He says: “LORD, LEAVE IT ALONE FOR ONE MORE YEAR.” That is Jesus’ grace period to us.

Back in the late 1800’s, R. L. Stevenson told of his first visit to the leper colony on Molokai. When he arrived there, he found the director of the colony, a man named Damien, playing croquet with the leprous children and using the same mallets they used. R. L. Stevenson suggested that Damien at least wear gloves, lest he contract leprosy. Damien replied: “No, it would hurt them, if they noticed the difference between us.” Two years later Damien got up on Pentecost Sunday to deliver his sermon, and instead of the usual salutation, ‘Dear fellow Christians,’ he began simply and quietly with the words that showed how much he cared about them. He said, “Dear fellow lepers.” A year later he was dead from the disease. In the words of Scripture, he loved them unto death.