Shocking Change
There were some present at that very time who told him about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices. And he answered them, “Do you think that these Galileans were worse sinners than all the other Galileans, because they suffered in this way? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all likewise perish. Or those eighteen on whom the tower in Siloam fell and killed them: do you think that they were worse offenders than all the others who lived in Jerusalem? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all likewise perish.”
Luke 13:1-5
In many ways, athletic competition simulates life’s emotional highs and lows, and serves as a catalyst for unique human bonds. The thrill of a clutch score at Bryant Denny Stadium is at times so extreme the roar is deafening, and strangers suddenly hug, high five and celebrate, bound together exclusively by shared passion and joy. The opposite is also true, like that sad day when Johnny Manziel led his Aggies to victory and 100,000 fans exited the stadium in absolute silence, sharing grief, shock, bewilderment and perhaps some confused anger. Through athletics, strangers develop bonds and, in many ways, we experience the rollercoaster of life’s emotional highs and lows.
Lori and I had the amazing opportunity to see the NCAA softball tournament. We saw the regional and super-regional rounds in Tuscaloosa and traveled to Oklahoma City for the Women’s College World Series, and I was struck by many things – the talent and quality of play on display by all the teams, the perfection required to win at that level of competition, and the tears shed by athletes after each elimination game. More than anything, I was struck by the tears, and it occurred to me that the tears reveal the shock of instantaneous change.
Yogi Berra is said to have quipped, “It’s not over until its over,” meaning, unlike games controlled by a clock, baseball and softball games are unbound by time. The length of each game is determined by outs and runs, and even a team that is down by lots of runs in a late inning has hope – until the final out is recorded, a rally is still possible. Even with two outs in what is likely the final inning, each batter knows if she can make it to first base, the game will be extended. She has hope and she continues fighting for victory.
We see the shocking transition from hopeful fight to abrupt termination on dramatic display at the end of each elimination game in the tournament, because for the seniors, this is likely the end of playing at that level. And the end comes abruptly because the game is truly not over until it is over. One scene is seared in my mind epitomizing the instantaneous change. A senior and really good batter was at the plate. Her team was down two runs in the seventh inning. She had two strikes and she timed the next pitch perfectly, barreled it up and ripped a rocket line drive. She had been fighting for life and she executed perfectly, and she joyously ran to first, only to see an opposing player catch the ball, record the final out of the game and suddenly end her time as a softball player. It was all suddenly over. The transition from joy to the end was instantaneous and shocking.
Then came the tears. They were not ready for the end. They knew the end was inevitable, but not then, not that way. The image of instantaneous shift from hopeful fight to the end provides a glimpse at how unexpectedly quick our life can end, and perhaps, how shocking the instantaneous transition might be.
Pondering the scene, a conversation from Scripture comes to mind. Some unidentified people approach Jesus to tell Him about worshipers who were slaughtered by Pilate’s army while they offered sacrifices. Jesus presumes they are asking whether the sudden and awful deaths were God’s judgment for sin, and He responds saying,
“Do you think that these Galileans were worse sinners than all the other Galileans, because they suffered in this way? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all likewise perish. Or those eighteen on whom the tower in Siloam fell and killed them: do you think that they were worse offenders than all the others who lived in Jerusalem? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all likewise perish.” Luke 13:2-5
Twice in the short conversation Jesus urges repentance. His response recognizes that life is short, and people often die unexpectedly in ways they never imagine, that is part of life in this sinful realm in which we live. So what can we do about it? We prepare for the change that will inevitably come. We repent. We beg the Holy Spirit to transform us into the image of Christ Jesus. We believe Christ Jesus is who He says He is, and we engage in relationship with Him and God the Father. We serve His holy will while we are out in the world.
Jesus continues with a parable. The passage continues saying,
And he told this parable: “A man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard, and he came seeking fruit on it and found none. And he said to the vinedresser, ‘Look, for three years now I have come seeking fruit on this fig tree, and I find none. Cut it down. Why should it use up the ground?’ And he answered him, ‘Sir, let it alone this year also, until I dig around it and put on manure. Then if it should bear fruit next year, well and good; but if not, you can cut it down.’” Luke 13:6-9
The parable involves trees planted to bear fruit but are barren. Barren fruit trees are removed and replaced with fruitful trees. In the context of the conversation about sudden death and judgment, and Jesus urging His listeners to repent, the message is clear. God plants us here on earth to bear fruit, so we should serve His will with every breath He grants us.
Life is so short. We know life itself and each breath are gifts from God, but as we go moment to moment, day to day, year to year, we may be lulled to sleep by the apparent permanence of it all and begin to take God’s gracious gifts for granted, expecting them to continue. We know some day our time on earth will end, but not today, right? But of course, each breath could be our last. We do not know how long we have, so what are we doing with the moments, days, years God plans to grant us? Our purpose is to glorify God, how are we doing that?
May you know Christ Jesus, may the Holy Spirit fill you and transform you, may you know the Father’s will, may you bear His fruit out in the world. Amen.