"The Parable of the Tree" A Sermon for Lent by Marilyn Wray |
Isaiah 55: 1-9 "Come all you who are thirsty" Ps. 63: 1-8 "O God, you are my God" I Cor. 10: 1-13 "God is faithful. He will not tempt you beyond what you can bear" Luke 13: 1-9 "unless you repent, you too will perish" I have always had difficulty repenting, saying I'm sorry, even when I knew in my heart that I was wrong. I remembered feeling shame, but confessing to the person openly was difficult. My earliest recollection of that was at the age of 4 when I was visiting my grandparents. My grandmother was serving breakfast, and I didn't like it. I think it was bacon and eggs, and I had a real dislike for eggs. My mother said I had to eat them, and I pulled an obstinate streak, said "NO", picked up the bacon and threw it at my grandmother. My mother was horrified, and demanded that I pick it up and apologize to my grandmother. I refused and pouted. Mother banished me to my room until I apologized. I remember being there for a long time crying and feeling sorry for myself before I could summon up the courage to apologize. What I still cannot understand is why I did it. I loved my grandmother. She was always so kind and caring. I was the first-born grandchild and definitely loved. This is the season of Lent, a time when God led Jesus into the desert to pray, a time when the devil tempted him, a time when Jesus rebuked the devil, rejected his temptations and answered his Father's call to ministry. This morning we are going to go into the desert with Jesus to look at our temptations, to rebuke all that is evil, and to respond to God's call for our salvation. I am not in any position to point a finger to anyone and say, "Repent". Only God can do that. However, I do stand as one among you who experiences the desert, the devil's temptations, and who seeks the mercy of the loving God, our Father. Let us imagine ourselves in the desert. We are alone, and feel very alone. All around us is brown sand and gray rock with a contrasting bright blue sky and brilliant searing sun above. We can feel that hot sun penetrating like the hottest July day. The brightness almost blinds the eye and distorts what vision we have. Our hearing that at first senses only silence also becomes distorted. What is that? Is that a hiss the sound of the evil serpent? Despite the heat we shiver with cold. Then over the horizon a blurry mirage appears. In the midst of the mirage we see David, a young shepherd boy whose courage and faith in God defeats the giant Philistine, Goliath. Then the hiss sounds. The serpent appears, and the next scene is David as a great king sinning by coveting another man's wife and by having her husband killed. The serpent's hiss is mocking. But David is judged by God and rebuked harshly through the death of his son. A strong wind whips across us and the sound of the wind overcomes the hiss of the serpent. The image of David suffering changes to one of repentance. His head is bowed, God has forgiven him, and then we see the hand of God descending and holding David in the palm of his righteous right hand. David is his, and God will never let go of him. The mirage disappears. As we continue our solitude in the desert, we become aware of a second mirage that appears over the horizon. We see Moses leading thousands of people through a cloud and then through the parting of the sea. The Egyptians are drowned and the Israelites reach safety in the desert. God has freed them from slavery, and promised them a land of their own. No sooner have they reached safety than the hiss sounds. It's the serpent. And the scene changes from happiness and thanksgiving to the people defying God, rebelling against the leadership of Moses, building idols out of gold, and committing sexual immorality. The wind of God blows strong, and his voice delivers the Ten Commandments to Moses. Even so, the serpent is bold; the hiss is deafening and we hear complaining and grumbling from the people. As the vision fades, we see them going in circles for forty years, lost most of them including Moses dying in the desert. Only the descendents led by Joshua reach the Promised Land. The second mirage disappears, and again we become aware of our solitude. As we wonder what next, a third mirage appears. This time a vineyard comes into view. A warm wind reminds us of Jesus telling us, "I am the vine, you are the branches." I remember how Jesus has been in me since the time of my infant baptism, and from time to time, the gardener of the vineyard has pruned my branches. But that is what gardeners do when the plant is healthy to make it even healthier. The warm wind gives way to a chill and again the hiss sounds the arrival of the unwanted serpent. A fig tree stands out in the garden, not for its beauty but for its ugliness. Something has happened to the tree. For three years it has not produced fruit. More and more branches have lost leaves making the tree look ghost-like, wasted. The owner of the garden gives orders to have it cut down. It is useless. Why should it use up the soil? But the gardener pleads with the owner, "Sir, leave it alone for one more year and I'll dig around it and fertilize it. If it bears fruit next year, fine. If not, then cut it down." What the gardener knew was that the roots of the tree were damaged, hurt over the years, and that without healthy roots, the tree would wither and die. The first root of the tree was damaged due to rejection. The tree that had been the most beautiful, the most admired in the garden, that had been the most successful producer of figs was fooled by the serpent into feeling unloved by God. Fooled by the serpent, winning at all costs and beating others became the tree's goal for success. Instead of praying to God for help, she believed the serpent, and the tree began to wither. The second root of the tree was damaged by fear. As if rejection weren't bad enough, the tree became afraid, afraid to stand tall and be herself in the garden. She felt afraid of competition from the other trees. Maybe God loved them more. Feeling alone and rejected, the tree became fearful of change. There were other seedlings in the garden growing around her. Maybe she would lose her place, her importance. The garden would definitely change. The hiss sounded louder. The serpent tricked her again and told her that the garden would not survive. In a mocking laugh he said that God had abandoned the garden. So what was the purpose of growing tall? Out of fear the second root died and the tree withered some more. The third root of the tree was struggling with forgiveness. The birth of the tree had come from seeds of troubled parents. Although the mother seed had been loving and kind, the father seed had been violent and abusive. You would never know by looking at the beauty of the three trees mother, father and child that their outward appearances would cover such unrest and unhappiness. The tree grew to have fear and distrust of the father even though loving the mother. The tree knew that God wanted her to forgive her father the way Jesus forgave the sins of the people, but the serpent would put in an appearance at the most significant times, and she could never do it. And so the third root of the tree died, and the tree withered some more. The fourth root of the tree developed false beliefs. The serpent was doing his best to strangle the tree by diverting its root system from the source of life, from God. In the early days every Sunday the garden would vibrate in holy worship with rustling leaves, the waving of branches and the singing sounds of the wind. The trees would stand tall reaching towards heaven in praise of the Father, the master gardener. It was a celebration of the gardener's holy community. Each tree knew that they were stronger together than alone, and had faith in God, the Father, the gardener. Together there was a strong bond, a mystical union. They trusted him and one another, and were happy. Gradually, the evil serpent worked his charm of deceitfulness, and the tree began to believe that she didn't need to worship on Sundays with the others. It was so nice to sleep in. In fact the local spa offered Sunday yoga classes followed by an organic vegan lunch, free baby sitting and sports program for the older kids guaranteed to develop your inner calm and peace, beauty and health. It would help the tree compete against the others in today's world. The serpent hissed in pleasure. The fourth root died and the tree continue to wither. The serpent was winning. The fifth and final root of the tree was struggling to keep the tree alive. The others had rotted and died. This was tough work. The fifth root of the tree struggled with rebellion. God, the master creator and gardener had taught the basic Ten Commandments of life to everyone in the garden generations before. And repeatedly over the generations, even though the great teacher, Moses, had taught them, the serpent had persuaded whole groups of trees into believing that the Commandments were useless and had no importance given the context of modern life. Belief in God, the gardener, had been exchanged for belief in the idols of the world money, greed and immorality just as they had in the days of David and Moses. Gradually, hatred and bitterness consumed the rebellious tree. She wished she had never been born. She saw God as a tyrant, someone else trying to squeeze her into a socially acceptable mold. The tree had allowed herself to be charmed and tricked by the serpent, and she was dying. The serpent smiled a mocking smile of victory and hissed. The warm winds of God were not too far away, were watching, and had seen enough. The wind swooped down over the garden and said, " Be gone, serpent. This tree is mine." And to the tree said, "But I give you one-year to respond, to submit to me and to yield all rebelliousness. Unless you repent, you will perish" The tree, now so sad and nearly lifeless hung in shame. The caress of the warm wind against her near dead branches stirred a longing in her that had almost been forgotten. Gradually, the branches responded and said, "Yes. Please forgive me. I confess that I have sinned against you in thought word and deed, by what I have done and what I have left undone. I have not loved you with my whole heart; I have not loved my neighbour as myself. I am truly sorry and I humbly repent. For the sake of your son Jesus Christ, have mercy on me and forgive me, that I may delight in your will, and grow in your ways, to the glory of your name." The warm wind was so pleased. He loved the tree and said, "I have mercy upon you. I pardon and deliver you from all your sins, confirm and strengthen you in all goodness." A year later the owner of the vineyard was so happy. The gardener was right about that tree. It was good and worthy of saving. The third mirage disappears, and as we fear the darkening skies, and shiver with the oncoming coolness of the night, we are warmed by the wind and his voice calling to us, "Come all you who are thirsty, come to the waters. Give ear and come to me; hear me that your soul may live. I am your breathing in and your breathing out. I have known you from before time. I have named you. I will make an everlasting covenant with you. I will hold you in the palm of my righteous right hand. I will never leave you." And as we stand comforted by the warm wind swirling around us, we see God's righteous right hand reaching down from heaven. We lift our hand to him and say, " Yes Father, guide me. He takes our hand in his, and he leads us along the path in the sand that he, as the warm wind, has created and out of the desert, home. In the words of the psalmist, "O God, you are my God. Earnestly I do seek you. My soul thirsts for you. My body longs for you." Amen |
