Third Sunday of Lent: Repentance
By The Rev. Francis T. Gignac, S.J.
March 18, 2001
In this Sunday's rather odd Gospel
story (Luke 13:1-9), Jesus is told about some Galileans whom Pilate put to
death at the Passover festival. In the Gospel narrative, this story comes
immediately after Jesus' remarks on reconciliation with one's opponent. The
tale serves to heighten those remarks as well as to introduce an appeal for
repentance and timely reform – presumably the reason why this passage was
selected for this Sunday of Lent.
There is no way of telling whether this reference to the murdered Galileans – and to the inhabitants of Jerusalem upon whom a tower was said to have fallen – corresponds to a historical event. The story is found only in this Gospel and is not mentioned in any contemporaneous history, but the author uses it to issue a call to repentance. The Galileans' sudden death challenges those still alive to a reformation of life, an acceptance in faith of the saving word of God that Jesus has come to announce.
This
story is followed by a parable that drives home the critical nature of human
existence. Just as a final period of grace is given to the fig tree to produce
fruit, so the call of Jesus constitutes a short period of grace before God's
final judgment; it is the last hour. This is the basic intent of the parable.
But by the time of composition of this Gospel some 50 years after the life of
Jesus, the horizon has considerably widened and the barren fig tree takes on a
different meaning: it becomes the symbol of an unproductive Christian. As a
sequel to the preceding comments about reform of life, the parable has an
ominous thrust. Unlike the Galileans who died through another's cruel deed, and
unlike the inhabitants of Jerusalem who died because of an accident, the human
being symbolized by the barren fig tree dies through his or her own inactivity.
This parable accosts the Christian reader. Its message is: Now is the time for
repentance, for reform, for decision; the time for any further procrastination
has passed.
To
go with this Gospel passage we have a powerful reading from the Passover
narrative contained in the Book of Exodus (3:1-8,13-15). It is the famous story
of the burning bush, symbol for a divine manifestation. If read with
imagination and empathy, as one reads poetry, it communicates a dimension of
meaning that cannot be conveyed by prose. Read literally, the narrative has
various discrepancies: Moses' father-in-law, the priest-king of the Midianites,
is here named Jethro, not Reuel; the sacred mountain is called Horeb, not
Sinai; and there are different names for the deity. But read poetically, we see
Moses introduced to Yahweh, who would become the God of the Israelites. Moses
finds himself suddenly experiencing the presence of the Holy One who breaks
into the human world and arouses a sense of awe and dread. Then the narrator
quickly shifts attention from Moses seeing the bush to his hearing the God who
speaks to him through historical circumstances. With profound religious
insight, the narrative deftly describes the thoughts of Moses' heart as he
reflects on the plight of his people and his new sense of vocation awakened by
his encounter with the Holy One. It pictures God saying to Moses, "Come, I
will send you to Pharaoh, and you shall say to him, 'Let my people go.'"
Moses
protests that if he were to go to the Hebrews in Egypt and tell them about his
experience at Sinai, he would have to know this God's name. In antiquity this
was a vital question, not only because it was believed that there were many
gods, but also because a name was filled with power and vitality. It was
crucial to know the name of a god for people to worship him. But here, in one
of the most cryptic passages of the Old Testament, we have a rather elusive
answer: "I AM sent you." This "I AM" is a form of the name
Yahweh, which is composed of the consonants of the Hebrew verb "to
be." It reflects a profound insight of the Hebrew people, perhaps as far
back as the 13th century B.C., that is preserved in the third commandment,
"You shall not take the name of the LORD (i.e., Yahweh), your God, in
vain." The third commandment has nothing to do with cursing or swearing,
but with not pronouncing the name of Israel's God, even in worship. Unlike
other peoples of the ancient Near East, the Hebrews felt that they could not
control their God in any way. Hence, they did not allow themselves even so much
as to invoke his name in worship, lest they somehow seem to be manipulating
him. Rather, their relationship to their God was to be one of response. Their
God would speak and command; they would listen and act.
Finally,
our second reading (1 Cor 10:1-6,10-12) takes us back in thought to the time of
the Exodus. Paul expresses his view that everything written about Moses and the
people of Israel then was written for those who would eventually believe in
Christ. He describes the privileges of Israel in the desert after the Exodus in
terms that apply strictly to the realities of the new covenant:
"baptism" and "spiritual food and drink." Interpreted in
this way, the words point forward to the Christian experience. But not even
those privileges guaranteed God's permanent pleasure; for many of the people
went astray and perished in a single day. For Paul this suggests the
typological value of these Old Testament events: the desert experiences of the
Israelites are examples for us. They were meant as warnings, to deter us from
similar sinfulness and from a similar fate.
So
our three readings urge us – in the liturgical context of the Eucharist – to
put ourselves in a listening position for God to speak to us from whatever
quarter, especially through the person and teachings of Jesus his Son; to learn
from the examples of our forebears described in the sacred Scriptures how to
respond to God in faith; and finally to decide, especially during this season
of Lent, to reform our lives where needed, so that through appropriate
repentance and amendment we may become more active and productive Christians in
our personal encounters with God and with his risen Christ and in our
encounters with one another in our daily lives.
Any questions or
comments? cua-public-affairs@cua.edu
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Revised: March 18, 2001
All contents copyright © 2001.
The Catholic University of America,
Office of Public Affairs.