Luke 13:1-9 · Repent or Perish
Love Over Logic
Luke 13:1-9
Sermon
by Carl Jech
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Those eighteen upon whom the tower in Siloam fell and killed them, do you think they were worse offenders than all the others who dwelt in Jerusalem? I tell you, No. (Luke 13:4-5a)

Reward and punishment! A basic fact of life! In San Francisco there is a chain of pastry stores called "Just Desserts" - a clever name with more than one level of meaning. "You've been good. Treat yourself! You deserve a reward." But many of us would also think: "Too many of these rewards and my just desserts will be obesity and poor health." The law of reward and punishment, of cause and effect, of action and consequences, is a pervasive part of our lives. Professionals who work with emotionally disturbed children often have to put a lot of effort into creating a structure of limits in which the child learns the connection between actions and consequences.

Many people also think of religion in terms of reward and punishment. One humorous quip in this vein says, "Work for the Lord, ... The pay isn't much but the retirement plan is out of this world!"

But our text from Luke today, like the story of the laborers in Matthew 20, who all received the same payment regardless of how long they had worked, is part of a consistent emphasis in the Gospels on a dimension that transcends the simple mathematics of reward and punishment. What we learn from this obscure event, where a tower fell on some people, says Jesus, is not that some sinners are worse than others and deserve more harsh punishment. That is not the point. What we learn is a lesson about God's patience with our failings. God is not in a hurry to pass final judgment on us. To borrow an image from modern psychology, God appears to have a "B-type personality," that is, God is more interested in encouraging us over and over again to be productive, positive, to be in the process of "bearing fruit," than in assessing the final, absolute, end result. (The A-type personality is preoccupied with the final goal while the B-type personality thinks more in terms of never-ending processes.) In Hindu-Buddhist theology the doctrine of Karma is sometimes thought of as a strict law of reward and punishment, but Karma can also be thought of as having to do more with a learning process in which the goal is growth - a kind of "end that never ends."

Many of the New Testament writers want us to see that the issues of life go much deeper than the limited logic of reward and punishment. Precisely because the Hebrew and Christian Scriptures put such a strong emphasis on doing justice, being righteous, and making the world into a lovely and wonderful place, the early Christian theologians realized that one of the deeper issues would be the danger of despair and dashed hopes among those who were making valiant efforts to "be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect." The Christian faith is about doing the will of God: "Not those who say 'Lord, Lord,' but those who do the will of my Father will enter the kingdom of heaven." (Matthew 7:21) But, more precisely, the Christian message is about the spirit in which we go about our efforts to do good, to discover and do God's will, to make life beautiful. If we "do our best" in the spirit of trying to earn an eternal reward from God, we will realize in our moments of honesty that even our best, on those rare occasions when we may manage it, is not enough to make ourselves or our world perfect. We will be tempted either to lower our standards and expectations or to give in to despair and moral paralysis.

The Christian doctrine of sin is not an overly negative assessment of human nature. It is simply an honest recognition of the seemingly never ending tension between great expectations and tarnished realities. "The good that I would, I do not, and the evil that I would not, that I do." (Romans 7:19) In the face of such perplexity, such a predicament, talk of mere rewards and punishment according to our desserts - or of free-will versus determinism - seems shallow indeed.

Most people are not pathologically anti-social. Most of us want to do good, to do our best, to make life beautiful. The Bible, like other great writing, both secular and sacred, offers great insights into what it means to be ethical and good. But the Gospel that focuses on Jesus is primarily interested in the attitude we take toward our efforts to do "good works" and toward the fact that our "free wills" often appear to be in bondage to negative forces. And what is that attitude? There are any number of ways to describe it:

(1) We could call it the "Struggle and Relax" attitude. To borrow a phrase from army recruiters, God wants us to "be all that we can be." The spectre of unattainable rewards and the temptation to despair cannot be dissolved by simply lowering the standards of what we expect ourselves and the world to become - by giving up on "the Kingdom of God," by giving up on beauty. The problem is solved by paradoxically combining an attitude of struggle toward the best, with an attitude of relaxation that trusts God. Knowing in advance that even our best efforts are seldom if ever "good enough," we also know that God will not punish us for our failures because God is more interested in having us keep on trying than in having us reach some abstract goal of perfection. The "genius" of Christianity, if you will, is that it teaches us how to struggle and relax at the same time, how to continue hoping for the best even when it doesn't seem to be happening.

(2) One especially good way of describing the New Testament attitude toward our efforts to be and to do good, is to say that we learn from the Gospel how to combine a sense of moral urgency with a sense of humor! It is a seemingly impossible challenge to live by the spirit of the law rather than by the mere letter of the law. The challenge to love, pray for and understand our enemies - and even to be willing to "turn the other cheek" when the occasion calls for it - seems to require a virtually super-human amount of courage and good will. The vision of ourselves as part of God's plan to bring about the Kingdom of God on earth as it is in heaven seems grandiose and unrealistic. Yet the Christian Gospel speaks urgently of a Kingdom of God which is at hand! We are to take the Gospel of faith, hope and love with utmost seriousness. But how to do it without despairing? By combining our serious efforts with a profound sense of humor - with an overriding awareness of God's grace and forgiveness! Our sense of humor is a corollary to God's grace. A sense of humor - the ability not to take ourselves too seriously - is the opposite of a sense of urgency, but we must learn to combine these opposites in our attitude toward life. If we are too serious and self-absorbed in our efforts to produce goodness, we tend to produce evil. (Stalin was very serious about creating his version of a better world.) If we are too lighthearted we will simply laugh off our problems and never really grapple with or solve any of them. We will begin habitually to use the phrase "I'm only human" as a cynical excuse.

When a usually very serious professor cracks a joke it is twice as funny because of the contrast with the professor's usual demeanor. This may well be the most profound observation about life that we can make: let us nurture the fine art of combining a radical sense of moral urgency with a radical sense of humor/grace. (Bishop Desmond Tutu seems to have mastered this art remarkably well.)

(3) Another great way to describe the Christian attitude toward "good works," toward moral and spiritual effort, is to remember the words of Saint Paul in 1 Corinthians 15:10: "I worked harder than any of them, though it was not I, but the grace of God which is with me." We would also do well to make a motto out of a line from Saint Ignatius Loyola, the founder of the Jesuit Order. He expressed this same profound paradox when he wrote: "Work hard and struggle as if everything depended on you; yet pray and trust God as if everything depended on God."

(4) Martin Luther once described faith as a good work! But he did not mean by it that "believing the right doctrines about Jesus" was the ultimate good thing we could do to save ourselves. Luther was fully aware that to speak of accepting Jesus by faith was a glorious contradiction - a paradox of grace. We automatically move beyond logic when we talk about "accepting Jesus," because the name Jesus itself means that God accepts us, that God alone is the cause of our salvation, of our reconciliation. By calling our faith in Jesus both a good work and a free gift from God, by emphasizing that God accepting us is more important than our accepting God, by recognizing that God's free will to save us is stronger than our free will to do what is evil or good, Luther was struggling to move us beyond the simple logic of earning reward and punishment to an awareness of the ultimate triumph of love and grace. He was struggling, as Saint Paul does in Romans 4, to re-interpret and/or develop our understanding of what grace and faith really mean. This is a part of what Jesus is talking about when he says in Luke 13:5 "Unless you repent, you will all likewise perish." Unless we repent of the mindset that tries to earn God's acceptance and heavenly rewards, our efforts will indeed perish in despair.

"Were there no heaven to gain, no hell to flee; For what Thou art alone I must love Thee ... not for the hope of glory or reward." (Spanish Hymn of unknown date)

Perhaps the biggest problem people have with a radical emphasis on the grace of God is that it seems to raise the controversial issue of "universalism," the question of whether a gracious God ultimately saves everyone. Quoting the old Spanish hymn where the poet says that he would love God even if there "were no hell to flee," I once preached a sermon on the ultimate redemptive power of God's grace. One parishioner later confronted me angrily: "If there's no hell, then there's no heaven!" Another complained to me that she refuses to believe that God could save or redeem, say, an Adolph Hitler. Dr. Walter F. Taylor, professor of New Testament studies at Trinity Seminary, Columbus, Ohio warned an evangelism conference in 1986 against "theories of universalism," and more than one church group has passed or attempted to pass resolutions condemning "the false doctrine of universalism."

The problem of universalism is also sometimes described as a matter of transforming "free grace" into "cheap grace." A theologian might argue that if God's grace is "too freely given" then the suffering and death of Jesus is belittled and cheapened. The average person might put it this way: "Why try to be a moral and good person if we're all going to the same place anyway?" In his article "Does Anyone Out There Care Anymore Whether People Believe in Jesus?", James Burtness attempts to show how the grace of God is not totally free: "Grace," he writes, "has been hammered at (people) in a manner so simplistic that they have become unable to distinguish between taking credit for their faith and taking responsibility for it." He feels that if we only take responsibility (not credit) for our salvation, then we have not compromised the emphasis on "salvation by grace alone." Coming at the issue from a different perspective, another theologian has written: "We can't choose not to be sinful, but we can choose to accept Jesus." Another standard way of trying to solve this dilemma is simply to say that if I am saved it is all God's doing and if I am lost it is all my own fault. Typically, this attempt to explain how grace is both totally free but at the same time not totally free, is combined with the observation that while God may want to save/redeem everyone, God is not able to do so because some folks are just beyond redemption. The Orthodox (Greek and Russian) churches frequently state their solution to the problem this way: "God does 99% of the work and humans do 1% of the work by accepting the gift of faith." Ultimately, however, all of these approaches and explanations deny the real paradox of grace and put the emphasis back on our own efforts to become right with God. (Classical Christian theology calls this the false doctrine of synergism.)

If the notion of universalism simply came out of the "humanistic doctrine" of the basic goodness and innocence of human nature, then one might easily reject it as naive and heretical. But when the radical New Testament emphasis on the grace of God is seen on its own terms as at least tending toward some form of universalistic thinking, then we realize that this issue is not easily ignored or settled. If the point is that people must "accept Christ" in order to be saved, are some people basically more sinful than others because they don't accept Christ? Or does God put more effort into saving those who do accept Christ? In either case, the radical idea of free grace, unconditionally given for all people, is compromised, and the unique message of Christianity evaporates. Neither is John Calvin's conclusion that God arbitrarily saves (elects) some people and not others a particularly good way of solving this problem. It puts arbitrariness over logic instead of love over logic.

To discuss the theological issue of universalism is to talk about what it means to go beyond the logic of eternal rewards and punishments. It is to ponder the paradox of a God who is both an absolutely just Judge and yet an absolutely gracious, forgiving Savior. The message of the New Testament is not that we should accept certain doctrinal propositions about Jesus or follow the "spiritual laws" leading to salvation, but that we should struggle in joyful hope with what it means to believe in the radical grace of God!

While the Unitarian Universalist Church believes unequivocally in universal salvation, we can be content to believe simply that universal salvation is possible when one considers the New Testament theme of the radical grace of God. I am content, in other words, to believe that it is not up to me to answer or decide this issue! Maybe God's final judgment will reveal that some people are indeed beyond redemption and will perish. Maybe it will reveal that the idea of "hell" is more than a picturesque image intended to shock us out of our ethical complacency and dullness. But let us learn what it means to say that such final judgment does indeed belong to God alone. You and I cannot pretend to know who is lost or saved. We can't even answer the prior question as to whether an ultimate separation of souls into the categories of "lost" and "saved" will in fact take place. We can only celebrate the Gospel message of the unconditional love and grace of God shown in Jesus, the Christ.

The Spanish poet had a great insight: We would learn much about the meaning of our faith if we would ask ourselves how important our religion would still be to us even if there were no heaven to gain or no hell to flee. (Would that the perpetrators of the Spanish Inquisition had asked themselves that question!) If we think that "being a good Christian" means giving up many pleasures now for the sake of heavenly pleasures later on, then we are likely to get angry even with this hypothetical question of "what if there were no heaven or hell?" We would want our self-denial rewarded and the self-indulgence of evil-doers punished. But if the values and notions of goodness proclaimed by the Gospel are valid, don't they have to be valid regardless of whether or not heaven is a part of the equation? If, as we have noted, Christian faith is about learning to live creatively in the dynamic tension between a sense of moral urgency and a sense of humor - if it is about learning to live in love - isn't it more than worthwhile to participate in such faith even if there were no "next life"? We must wonder about a person who is disgruntled with this world and can't wait for heaven. What makes us think we are going to be able to appreciate the next life if we have so little appreciation for the only life that we know about so far, namely, this life here and now? Christianity does not teach that we are put on this earth merely to earn a heavenly reward. We are here to celebrate life, love, creativity, faith and hope. We are here to celebrate what has been marvelously described as "the Eternal Now!"

Some don't care for her brand of comedy, but in her book, Enter Talking, Joan Rivers shares some profound insights. She writes: "The only way you can go into show business is to expect no reward at all ... The paradox is: If you are not in it for the rewards, they are more likely to come to you ... If you must go into the arts, go into them for yourself alone ... be willing to paint a picture and just hang it on your wall." The Spanish poet expressed this same sentiment in his fifth stanza: "Not for the hope of glory or reward, But even as thou hast loved me Lord, I love thee ..."

A young woman shocked everyone with her suicide attempt. She was an apparently successful, gifted person. In counseling she confided to her mother that her success had been motivated by an overpowering need to prove herself. She felt that she would only be loved if she competed and succeeded. L. A. Law star, Susan Dey, similarly reported in a TV Guide article that she was "petrified of everything - of not accomplishing enough, of not getting it right, of not being able to do it all." These three women are coming to realize that life is more about unconditional love than it is about success and rewards, that being loved and accepted just as we are as people must come first, with accomplishments a distant second.

At first it is hard to comprehend that Dr. Karl Menninger wrote both The Crime of Punishment and Whatever Became of Sin? The two books appear to be diametrically opposed. The one emphasizes that we must take Sin seriously while the other denounces the "philosophy of punishment" as obsolete, vengeful and itself criminal. But the two books are not contradictory. An emphasis on a gracious attitude of forgiveness, redemption and rehabilitation does not mean that we naively ignore sin and evil. Menninger writes that in place of the vengeful philosophy of punishment we should "seek a comprehensive, constructive social attitude - therapeutic in some instances, restraining in some instances, but preventative in its total social impact." He is calling for a paradoxical combination of judgment and grace.

To describe Christian evangelism as Channeling Grace is not to water down the Christian message to "cheap grace." It is not to ignore sin and evil. But it does imply a serious reproof of the attitude which objects even to the mere mention of the possibility of universal salvation out of a vengeful desire to see sinners punished. To describe Christian evangelism as Channeling Grace is to be aware of the ultimate paradox of judgement and grace. It is, simply, in the most profound sense, to value the positive over the negative, people over accomplishments, love over logic!

C.S.S. Publishing Company, Channeling Grace, by Carl Jech