The Challenge Of Tragedy
Sermon
The Challenge of Starting All Over Again
A Sermon Series
Object:
And he answered them, "Do you think that these Galileans were worse sinners than all the other Galileans, because they suffered thus? I tell you, No; but unless you repent, you will all likewise perish."
-- Luke 13:2-3
Some years ago, while attending Christian Theological Seminary in Indianapolis, a seminary friend of mine was serving as a student minister in a small town in Indiana. And when I say small, I mean small. There may have been one stoplight in the center of town. There were a few stores, of course, a gas station or two, a small elementary school, and a collection of houses.
There was also a tavern in the town and two churches. The tavern, as usual, was prominently located on the best real estate in town -- on the corner at the stoplight. The tavern did a thriving business. However, diagonally across that same main intersection was my friend's church, just as prominently located, but sad to say, not thriving as well as the tavern.
Some may know that Indiana is famous for tornadoes. If Florida and the East Coast have hurricanes, Indiana and the Midwest have tornadoes. And yes, you have guessed it. A powerful tornado went through that small Indiana town where the tavern and the church sat opposite one another on the crossroads. Which building do you suppose was completely destroyed by the tornado? The tavern or the church?
When my friend put the question to us at seminary, we all answered uniformly. Which building was destroyed? The one that had people that most deserved it, the one with people most sinful and in greatest need of repentance, we replied in chorus. Well, John, we told our student minister friend, sorry to hear that your church was destroyed! Even he was able to laugh!
Years ago, in Jerusalem in the time of Jesus, some Galileans from the north had gone down south to Jerusalem to the famous Temple there to offer sacrifice, possibly at Passover time in the spring of the year. The Galileans were ardent patriots and fervent nationalists, at least many of them. Some of them were Zealots, which in today's world would be something like the Islamic Jihad or the right-wing Jewish extremists, as represented by the medical doctor who massacred Muslims at prayer in the mosque at the Tomb of the Patriarchs.
The Roman Governor, Pilate, suspicious of the political motives of the hundreds of Galileans mingling in the Temple area preparing their sacrifices, ordered his soldiers to mingle among them. Donning robes over their uniforms and carrying cudgels underneath the robes in place of swords, the soldiers got carried away in their efforts to disperse the Galileans and killed quite a number of them while they were preparing to sacrifice.
Consequently, their own blood was mingled, as it were, with animals to be offered in sacrifice. Were they murdered because they were more sinful than others and thus deserved to die? Ironically, the very blood needed for the sacrifice for sins was their very own in place of the animals they were slaughtering. Was this because of their great guilt? What say you, Jesus?
Shortly before that Pilate had decided to improve the water supply for the city of Jerusalem. In order to pay for the aqueduct he was building, he illegally confiscated some of the Temple funds. With the Temple money, he employed some Jewish laborers.
And while working on the aqueduct, the Tower of Siloam, perhaps an old fortress tower in the southeastern wall, fell on them, killing eighteen. Was this an act of vengeance on the part of God to punish the Jewish collaborators with Roman oppression and corruption? Did they die because they deserved more to die than others? What say you, Jesus?
On and on the story could go with respect to tragedies -- the causes, the reasons, the punishments. On and on the story could go with respect to human suffering -- why some should suffer more than others. Is it because they are such great sinners? What say you, Jesus?
And here is what he says -- no. The eighteen under the Tower of Siloam, the Galileans killed by Pilate's soldiers, and the church in Indiana were not greater sinners than others. Rather, these tragedies are a summons to repentance by all. Tragedies, terrible as they are, unfair as they are, can be a challenge for good, because they call us to repentance. Because, said Jesus, unless we all repent, we shall likewise perish!
I.
Consider the good that can come from a tragedy which precipitates a crisis.
The word "crisis" can mean crossroads. A crisis is a time of judgment, a time when a decision must be made for the road to take or not to take, the career to pursue or not to pursue, the investment to make or not to make, the person to marry or not to marry.
Tragedy can awaken us to the wrongness of the road taken and the rightness of the road not taken. Tragedies can awaken us to the futility of a lifestyle, the hypocrisy of a relationship, the shallowness of our intellectual and spiritual life, the smallness of our minds and hearts, and the rigidity of our thinking.
Some years ago in another city, a teenage boy of my acquaintance was heading down the wrong road in life. He was a handsome young man, a fine athlete, and a popular student. But he had started hanging out with the wrong crowd and began drinking.
Then one night it happened. He and his friends had been drinking, were speeding, missed a corner, and hit a tree. One of the boys was killed. The young man of my acquaintance was badly injured and gradually recovered, albeit without the full use of one hand and arm.
It was a terrible, terrible tragedy, but some good did come from it. My young friend's personality changed from insolence to compassion. His attitude shifted from careless arrogance to thoughtful humility. And although most of his athletic career was curtailed, his spiritual career took on a new dimension. Out of the crisis, he chose the right road, the road usually less traveled.
II.
Tragedy can be good if it causes us to change for the better.
Tragedy can, of course, cause us to change for the worse. As philosopher John Hick says in his excellent book Evil and the God of Love, "Sometimes obstacles breed strength of character, dangers evoke courage, and calamities produce patience and moral steadfastness." Hick goes on to say, "But sometimes they lead to resentment, fear, grasping selfishness and disintegration of character" (p. 255).
The Vietnam War might be a case in point for the latter. Many, many of our young men and some of our young women were, of course, totally wasted by that tragic war; that is, their lives were completely obliterated. And perhaps nothing evokes our deepest emotions of futility and waste more than the impressive Vietnam War Memorial in Washington. Pause silently before those thousands of names. Run your finger through the engraved letters and think of all the tears behind each human life lost.
Add to that the thousands more still alive with missing legs and arms and hands, veterans with maimed eyes and ears. And add to that the thousands more absent a balanced soul and stable mind, people totally cynical about our government, totally cynical about democracy, totally without hope. Tragedy can do that to us.
And yet, it can awaken us to have a man head up the Veterans' Administration from a wheelchair and work to see that our veterans get a fair shake. Tragedy can develop nerves of steel, an iron will, and a deep inward resolve never to be defeated by the vicissitudes of life. Tragedy can awaken us to national spiritual health and international human and political concerns which replace our backyard worldviews.
Jesus hopes we can repent without the Tower of Siloam falling on us, or without being taken as political hostages and sacrificed as cannon fodder in an unjust war. But some of us are dull and stubborn, totally engrossed in trivial pursuits -- and only a tragedy or crisis can lead to repentance, to a change in direction in thinking and acting. Don't you wish Adolf Hitler would have had a crisis like that early on?
If we have no tragedies, but remain arrogant, proud, insensitive, brutish, and boorish, then is it not possible we may have lost in the game of life? But if tragedy humbles us, makes us teachable, thoughtful, sensitive, and kind, then the tragedy may have become a terrible, painful teacher and benefactor.
God does resist the proud, says the Bible, but he gives grace to the humble. The beginning of wisdom, says the Psalm, is not the disdain of God, but the fear of God. Knowledge by itself puffs up into conceit and arrogance, says Paul, but love builds up. And alas, sometimes it is only tragedy that opens us up to love. And thus, in a strange way, tragedy can be good.
III.
Tragedy can be good if as a result new goods develop.
No doubt, many of us look upon tragedy much like we look upon Murphy's Law, which says that if anything can go wrong, it will. Call it the luck of the Irish, but Murphy's Law insists that everything takes longer than you think and that the other line always moves faster. More than that, according to Murphy's Law, the probability of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich falling on the carpet face side up will always be in direct proportion to the cost of the carpet. And says Murphy's Law in the pessimistic clincher, the light at the end of the tunnel is no doubt that of an oncoming train!
Well, possibly, but possibly not, because very often out of tragedy wonderfully good and new things have developed. The terrible truth is that the tragedy of war often stimulates new thought and research and production techniques that benefit us in peacetime. The space program and the star wars defense contracts, despite the waste and corruption, have sometimes promoted research and development which have advanced technology to everyone's benefit.
The assassination attempt on President Reagan and the terrible wounding of Press Secretary Brady led to the Brady Bill and more serious concern for gun control. The onset of diseases of various kinds, such as Alzheimer's, has led victims' families to promote research and to organize support groups.
The murder of children has led to the organization of Parents of Murdered Children, who now campaign for stiffer laws, tougher prosecution, victims' rights, and prayerful support for those who have experienced the tragic loss. Yes, strangely and terribly, tragedy can be good when it is the catalyst for new goods.
IV.
Most of all, tragedy can be good if it awakens us spiritually.
The political zealots of Jesus' time wanted everyone to wake up politically, the economists wanted everyone to wake up economically, the militarists wanted everyone to wake up militarily, the hedonists wanted everyone to wake up to pleasure, the cynical wanted everyone to wake up cynically, but Jesus wanted everyone to wake up spiritually. He wanted them to repent, to have a complete transformation of mind, as the Greek word metanoia suggests.
And sometimes it takes a tragedy to make that happen. Speak to some of the people who meet in Alcoholics Anonymous or Narcotics Anonymous groups. Speak to them and they will tell you that often it is the tragedy of "hitting bottom" that awakens them spiritually and leads them to health again.
The truth is, most of us get wrapped up in ourselves rather than in God. The truth is, we are prone to give our ultimate loyalties and allegiances to rather temporal and limited concerns. The truth is, we often get wrapped up in a small and stuffy package of self and conceit.
Consequently, we enter into a kind of idolatry, says theologian John Shea. "In fact," says Shea, "in the lives of most people idolatry is not a raucous divinization of a cause, but a quiet and complete dedication to unquestioned values and systems" (The Challenge of Jesus, p. 65).
So the question comes to us, to whom are we ultimately committed? Who ultimately guides our actions and establishes our values? Just what is the ultimate focus of our mind and spirit? Are we the center of our universe and God only a satellite?
Twenty centuries ago, Jesus was using his magnificent sermons and teachings to call us to repentance, to openness, to the focus upon God in place of self, calling us to the worship of the Creator in place of the creature, inviting us to genuine change and authentic spiritual growth in place of arrogance and stagnation.
But alas, some of us, in order to repent, need a wake-up call. A Tower of Siloam may have to fall, or a political-military tragedy may have to occur, or an illness or personal crisis may have to grip us.
But if such tragedies challenge us and awaken us spiritually toward God and one another, then they can be, yes, tragically and terribly good. Because unless we repent, we shall, says Jesus, likewise perish.
Prayer
Almighty God, by whose awesome power galaxies expand and contract, and by whose creative word solar systems come into existence and then cease to be; we bow in worship before you to acknowledge you as God and ourselves as your people, living precariously in risk and freedom in a world unpredictable and sometimes violent. In all our living we are dependent upon your life-giving powers, and in our suffering and dying we acknowledge the contingency of our existence and our total reliance upon you. We praise you, O God.
Nevertheless, amid all your power and majesty, it has been your good pleasure to create ladybugs and daffodils. You fashioned fireflies and pelicans and take delight in dolphins and polar bears. And even more do you manifest your creative love in the birth of a baby, fashioning it in the womb from your divinely given genetic stream, shaping it in your image. We thank you for your loving power, O God.
Be patient with us then if we bring to you the perplexities of living. The wayward child, the angry spouse, the troubled employee, the disgruntled associate, the estranged relatives -- all these and more, places where so many things can go wrong in this risky life of freedom. Be pleased to come to our aid to repair hostile relationships.
And behold with pity the intense suffering of so many in the world -- the wounded and grieving, the cold and sick, the victims of hideous crimes and those ruined by earthquakes, winds, floods, and fire. O God, by your everlasting mercy, reach out in compassion to give solace to the sorrowing and hope to those in great despair. And use us all, we pray, to be your agents of good will everywhere. Through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
-- Luke 13:2-3
Some years ago, while attending Christian Theological Seminary in Indianapolis, a seminary friend of mine was serving as a student minister in a small town in Indiana. And when I say small, I mean small. There may have been one stoplight in the center of town. There were a few stores, of course, a gas station or two, a small elementary school, and a collection of houses.
There was also a tavern in the town and two churches. The tavern, as usual, was prominently located on the best real estate in town -- on the corner at the stoplight. The tavern did a thriving business. However, diagonally across that same main intersection was my friend's church, just as prominently located, but sad to say, not thriving as well as the tavern.
Some may know that Indiana is famous for tornadoes. If Florida and the East Coast have hurricanes, Indiana and the Midwest have tornadoes. And yes, you have guessed it. A powerful tornado went through that small Indiana town where the tavern and the church sat opposite one another on the crossroads. Which building do you suppose was completely destroyed by the tornado? The tavern or the church?
When my friend put the question to us at seminary, we all answered uniformly. Which building was destroyed? The one that had people that most deserved it, the one with people most sinful and in greatest need of repentance, we replied in chorus. Well, John, we told our student minister friend, sorry to hear that your church was destroyed! Even he was able to laugh!
Years ago, in Jerusalem in the time of Jesus, some Galileans from the north had gone down south to Jerusalem to the famous Temple there to offer sacrifice, possibly at Passover time in the spring of the year. The Galileans were ardent patriots and fervent nationalists, at least many of them. Some of them were Zealots, which in today's world would be something like the Islamic Jihad or the right-wing Jewish extremists, as represented by the medical doctor who massacred Muslims at prayer in the mosque at the Tomb of the Patriarchs.
The Roman Governor, Pilate, suspicious of the political motives of the hundreds of Galileans mingling in the Temple area preparing their sacrifices, ordered his soldiers to mingle among them. Donning robes over their uniforms and carrying cudgels underneath the robes in place of swords, the soldiers got carried away in their efforts to disperse the Galileans and killed quite a number of them while they were preparing to sacrifice.
Consequently, their own blood was mingled, as it were, with animals to be offered in sacrifice. Were they murdered because they were more sinful than others and thus deserved to die? Ironically, the very blood needed for the sacrifice for sins was their very own in place of the animals they were slaughtering. Was this because of their great guilt? What say you, Jesus?
Shortly before that Pilate had decided to improve the water supply for the city of Jerusalem. In order to pay for the aqueduct he was building, he illegally confiscated some of the Temple funds. With the Temple money, he employed some Jewish laborers.
And while working on the aqueduct, the Tower of Siloam, perhaps an old fortress tower in the southeastern wall, fell on them, killing eighteen. Was this an act of vengeance on the part of God to punish the Jewish collaborators with Roman oppression and corruption? Did they die because they deserved more to die than others? What say you, Jesus?
On and on the story could go with respect to tragedies -- the causes, the reasons, the punishments. On and on the story could go with respect to human suffering -- why some should suffer more than others. Is it because they are such great sinners? What say you, Jesus?
And here is what he says -- no. The eighteen under the Tower of Siloam, the Galileans killed by Pilate's soldiers, and the church in Indiana were not greater sinners than others. Rather, these tragedies are a summons to repentance by all. Tragedies, terrible as they are, unfair as they are, can be a challenge for good, because they call us to repentance. Because, said Jesus, unless we all repent, we shall likewise perish!
I.
Consider the good that can come from a tragedy which precipitates a crisis.
The word "crisis" can mean crossroads. A crisis is a time of judgment, a time when a decision must be made for the road to take or not to take, the career to pursue or not to pursue, the investment to make or not to make, the person to marry or not to marry.
Tragedy can awaken us to the wrongness of the road taken and the rightness of the road not taken. Tragedies can awaken us to the futility of a lifestyle, the hypocrisy of a relationship, the shallowness of our intellectual and spiritual life, the smallness of our minds and hearts, and the rigidity of our thinking.
Some years ago in another city, a teenage boy of my acquaintance was heading down the wrong road in life. He was a handsome young man, a fine athlete, and a popular student. But he had started hanging out with the wrong crowd and began drinking.
Then one night it happened. He and his friends had been drinking, were speeding, missed a corner, and hit a tree. One of the boys was killed. The young man of my acquaintance was badly injured and gradually recovered, albeit without the full use of one hand and arm.
It was a terrible, terrible tragedy, but some good did come from it. My young friend's personality changed from insolence to compassion. His attitude shifted from careless arrogance to thoughtful humility. And although most of his athletic career was curtailed, his spiritual career took on a new dimension. Out of the crisis, he chose the right road, the road usually less traveled.
II.
Tragedy can be good if it causes us to change for the better.
Tragedy can, of course, cause us to change for the worse. As philosopher John Hick says in his excellent book Evil and the God of Love, "Sometimes obstacles breed strength of character, dangers evoke courage, and calamities produce patience and moral steadfastness." Hick goes on to say, "But sometimes they lead to resentment, fear, grasping selfishness and disintegration of character" (p. 255).
The Vietnam War might be a case in point for the latter. Many, many of our young men and some of our young women were, of course, totally wasted by that tragic war; that is, their lives were completely obliterated. And perhaps nothing evokes our deepest emotions of futility and waste more than the impressive Vietnam War Memorial in Washington. Pause silently before those thousands of names. Run your finger through the engraved letters and think of all the tears behind each human life lost.
Add to that the thousands more still alive with missing legs and arms and hands, veterans with maimed eyes and ears. And add to that the thousands more absent a balanced soul and stable mind, people totally cynical about our government, totally cynical about democracy, totally without hope. Tragedy can do that to us.
And yet, it can awaken us to have a man head up the Veterans' Administration from a wheelchair and work to see that our veterans get a fair shake. Tragedy can develop nerves of steel, an iron will, and a deep inward resolve never to be defeated by the vicissitudes of life. Tragedy can awaken us to national spiritual health and international human and political concerns which replace our backyard worldviews.
Jesus hopes we can repent without the Tower of Siloam falling on us, or without being taken as political hostages and sacrificed as cannon fodder in an unjust war. But some of us are dull and stubborn, totally engrossed in trivial pursuits -- and only a tragedy or crisis can lead to repentance, to a change in direction in thinking and acting. Don't you wish Adolf Hitler would have had a crisis like that early on?
If we have no tragedies, but remain arrogant, proud, insensitive, brutish, and boorish, then is it not possible we may have lost in the game of life? But if tragedy humbles us, makes us teachable, thoughtful, sensitive, and kind, then the tragedy may have become a terrible, painful teacher and benefactor.
God does resist the proud, says the Bible, but he gives grace to the humble. The beginning of wisdom, says the Psalm, is not the disdain of God, but the fear of God. Knowledge by itself puffs up into conceit and arrogance, says Paul, but love builds up. And alas, sometimes it is only tragedy that opens us up to love. And thus, in a strange way, tragedy can be good.
III.
Tragedy can be good if as a result new goods develop.
No doubt, many of us look upon tragedy much like we look upon Murphy's Law, which says that if anything can go wrong, it will. Call it the luck of the Irish, but Murphy's Law insists that everything takes longer than you think and that the other line always moves faster. More than that, according to Murphy's Law, the probability of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich falling on the carpet face side up will always be in direct proportion to the cost of the carpet. And says Murphy's Law in the pessimistic clincher, the light at the end of the tunnel is no doubt that of an oncoming train!
Well, possibly, but possibly not, because very often out of tragedy wonderfully good and new things have developed. The terrible truth is that the tragedy of war often stimulates new thought and research and production techniques that benefit us in peacetime. The space program and the star wars defense contracts, despite the waste and corruption, have sometimes promoted research and development which have advanced technology to everyone's benefit.
The assassination attempt on President Reagan and the terrible wounding of Press Secretary Brady led to the Brady Bill and more serious concern for gun control. The onset of diseases of various kinds, such as Alzheimer's, has led victims' families to promote research and to organize support groups.
The murder of children has led to the organization of Parents of Murdered Children, who now campaign for stiffer laws, tougher prosecution, victims' rights, and prayerful support for those who have experienced the tragic loss. Yes, strangely and terribly, tragedy can be good when it is the catalyst for new goods.
IV.
Most of all, tragedy can be good if it awakens us spiritually.
The political zealots of Jesus' time wanted everyone to wake up politically, the economists wanted everyone to wake up economically, the militarists wanted everyone to wake up militarily, the hedonists wanted everyone to wake up to pleasure, the cynical wanted everyone to wake up cynically, but Jesus wanted everyone to wake up spiritually. He wanted them to repent, to have a complete transformation of mind, as the Greek word metanoia suggests.
And sometimes it takes a tragedy to make that happen. Speak to some of the people who meet in Alcoholics Anonymous or Narcotics Anonymous groups. Speak to them and they will tell you that often it is the tragedy of "hitting bottom" that awakens them spiritually and leads them to health again.
The truth is, most of us get wrapped up in ourselves rather than in God. The truth is, we are prone to give our ultimate loyalties and allegiances to rather temporal and limited concerns. The truth is, we often get wrapped up in a small and stuffy package of self and conceit.
Consequently, we enter into a kind of idolatry, says theologian John Shea. "In fact," says Shea, "in the lives of most people idolatry is not a raucous divinization of a cause, but a quiet and complete dedication to unquestioned values and systems" (The Challenge of Jesus, p. 65).
So the question comes to us, to whom are we ultimately committed? Who ultimately guides our actions and establishes our values? Just what is the ultimate focus of our mind and spirit? Are we the center of our universe and God only a satellite?
Twenty centuries ago, Jesus was using his magnificent sermons and teachings to call us to repentance, to openness, to the focus upon God in place of self, calling us to the worship of the Creator in place of the creature, inviting us to genuine change and authentic spiritual growth in place of arrogance and stagnation.
But alas, some of us, in order to repent, need a wake-up call. A Tower of Siloam may have to fall, or a political-military tragedy may have to occur, or an illness or personal crisis may have to grip us.
But if such tragedies challenge us and awaken us spiritually toward God and one another, then they can be, yes, tragically and terribly good. Because unless we repent, we shall, says Jesus, likewise perish.
Prayer
Almighty God, by whose awesome power galaxies expand and contract, and by whose creative word solar systems come into existence and then cease to be; we bow in worship before you to acknowledge you as God and ourselves as your people, living precariously in risk and freedom in a world unpredictable and sometimes violent. In all our living we are dependent upon your life-giving powers, and in our suffering and dying we acknowledge the contingency of our existence and our total reliance upon you. We praise you, O God.
Nevertheless, amid all your power and majesty, it has been your good pleasure to create ladybugs and daffodils. You fashioned fireflies and pelicans and take delight in dolphins and polar bears. And even more do you manifest your creative love in the birth of a baby, fashioning it in the womb from your divinely given genetic stream, shaping it in your image. We thank you for your loving power, O God.
Be patient with us then if we bring to you the perplexities of living. The wayward child, the angry spouse, the troubled employee, the disgruntled associate, the estranged relatives -- all these and more, places where so many things can go wrong in this risky life of freedom. Be pleased to come to our aid to repair hostile relationships.
And behold with pity the intense suffering of so many in the world -- the wounded and grieving, the cold and sick, the victims of hideous crimes and those ruined by earthquakes, winds, floods, and fire. O God, by your everlasting mercy, reach out in compassion to give solace to the sorrowing and hope to those in great despair. And use us all, we pray, to be your agents of good will everywhere. Through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
