This Sermon was Originally Broadcast on The Protestant Hour: March 2nd, 1986

This past fall, one of the television networks ran a week-long series of segments on the question, Is God punishing us? In one of the teasers for the series, a small girl's voice began what was apparently the Lord's Prayer, but she quickly moved to questions instead of petitions. Our Father in heaven, why did so many people die in the crash of a plane in Japan? Why did a volcano kill so many people in Colombia? Why are so many people starving in Africa? Is God punishing us?

The same question was asked of Jesus twenty centuries ago. Pilate had killed some Galileans. Why did they die? Were they greater sinners than others? Or take the case of the eighteen people who died when the tower of Siloam fell? Were they the worst sinners in Jerusalem? Was God punishing these people? And some of you will remember the story in John's gospel, the one about the man blind from birth. Why is he blind? Asked the religious leaders. Is it because of his sins? Or was it the sins of his parents? In all three cases, Jesus denies that there is any connection between their deaths and their sins. The Galileans were not the worst sinners in Galilee, those killed by the falling tower were not the worst sinners in Jerusalem. And the man who was blind, was blind neither because of his sin, nor because of his parents sins.

As one of those interviewed for the television series said, there are enough reasons why people die, including human stupidity, and it's quite unnecessary to blame it on God. Does this mean that God never punishes for our sins? Not necessarily. Though there are those who argue that retribution for human evil is built into life. If we build houses on floodplains we’ll be flooded out. If we insist on fighting wars we’ll automatically suffer, and God doesn't have to lift a finger. But Jesus doesn't get into all that. He simply denies that there is any connection between what happens to people and the punishment of God. It would be a healthy thing for all of us to take Jesus seriously and give up the notion that every bad thing is an act of God designed to punish us or others. It's not that simple.

What Jesus does say in today's text is, unless you repent, you will all likewise perish. In other words, the issue is not why that particular village was wiped out in Colombia, or why that particular group of 500 died in Japan. God did not single out these people. The issue is what you are going to do about your own life. The issue is whether or not you will repent. It's customary for preachers to name a few things for which you might repent, to provide thought starters, clerical nudges. Perhaps it's your attitude towards your neighbor, toward other races, your use of money, alcohol, tobacco. Perhaps these are the things for which you should repent. And I don't want to treat this lightly. All of us have specific sins which hurt us and separate us not only from God, but from those who love us most. But today, I'd like to get at the matter of repentance in a different way. I'd prefer to suggest that beneath the specific sins, which may trouble your conscience, or mine, there is a basic issue of loyalty.

Not long ago, there was a baptism in the chapel, which I serve. And I had the usual conversation with the parents early in the week. I went through the three questions which the parents and godparents answer. And when I finished, the father of the child said, Isn't there supposed to be something about renouncing the devil? Well, I explained, we've changed it to a more modern form. People understand it better if we say, renounce all the forces of evil. How did the old form read? he said. Do you renounce the devil and all his works and all his ways? The man brightened with recognition. Could we use the old form on Sunday? Sure. So when Sunday came, I said with a loud voice, Do you renounce the devil and all his works and all his ways? And they shot back, we renounce them. There was a gasp from the congregation, and some laughed. But most people agreed that it was the high point of that day's service.

It's not that this particular family was riveted on the notion of the devil, but they did understand clearly that there is a contest, a war going on within the human family. It is a war between God and what St. Paul called the hosts of darkness. The issue is whether we are willing to choose sides in that conflict, and to do it publicly. The ancient baptismal questions simply asks, whose side are you on? On the one hand, there is God and all that God demands, expects and promises. On the other hand, there is a host of other gods, other claims upon our person and our substance. To be a Christian, is to say publicly that in this conflict, we are on God's side. The issue then, is one of loyalty. To whom or to what do we make allegiance.

To repent is not so much a matter of giving up certain practices or habits, as it is a matter of reaffirming our basic allegiance. Yesterday, we really served other gods, we allowed claims to be made upon us which were not the claims of the God of Jesus Christ. We responded to expectations which were not the expectations of our God. We listened to promises, which were not the promises of God. How about tomorrow? Tomorrow, we have to choose again. Repentance means that we start tomorrow by renouncing the devil and all his works and all his ways, and by reaffirming our commitment to the God of Christ. Will we do any better tomorrow? Who really knows for sure. The issue is whether we will be honest enough to admit that we have a choice and courageous enough to say, “Tomorrow, I will fight against the host of darkness, I will reaffirm my commitment to God.”

Albert Camus wrote a story called, The Plague. The setting is in Iran, North Africa, a city suffering from a plague. People were dying every day in great numbers and the parish priest felt his obligation to preach about what was occurring. In his first sermon he told the people that the plague had come upon them because of their sins. Calamity has come upon you my brethren, and you, my brethren deserve it, he said. Plague is the flail of God, and the world is God's threshing floor, and implacably, God will thresh out the harvest until the wheat is separated from the chaff. Time passes, and still more people die, including children. And Father Panelo enters the pulpit for a second time. Now the priest is able to include himself. It is not just your sins, but our sins. The issue is whether in the face of the plague, we will deny everything, or affirm everything. But when the plague continues its course, Father Panelo returns to the pulpit for a third time, and the whole issue is recast. It is not now a question of punishment for our sins, and not a question of affirming or denying everything. The priest said to the people, my brothers and sisters, each of us must be the one who stays.

And that's what it comes down to, finally. It comes to the issue of whether or not we will stay. The world in which we live is the plague struck city, children dying everywhere of malnutrition. Women everywhere abused and demeaned, villages wiped out by mudslides, by accidents at chemical plants, tens of thousands dying in warfare. There's not been a day in the life of either of us, in which men, women and children have not died violently in the ceaseless warfare between nations, tribes, and peoples possessed by different religions or ideologies. This is true as well for the smaller world of our personal lives.

Each day we are beset by our own tiredness, the feeling that just keeping ourselves clean, our rooms clean, is a losing battle. The sense of weariness, because today we must remember to pay our bills or lose our credit. Today we must be wary of being cheated, being mugged, being manipulated or used in ways which are insulting.

If only we could flee the plague struck city. And of course, we do. We move from the city to the suburbs, retreat behind burglar alarms, buy insurance, avoid the evening news, support the arms buildup in the hope that it will keep us safe. We isolate ourselves from the diseased, troubled and homeless people of the world. And some of us retreat into the private world of religion. We concentrate upon the small rhythms of personal prayer the confession of our minor sins. But finally, as Father Panelo said to his parishioners, it comes to this. Each of us must be the one who stays.

Each day the hosts of darkness gather around my bed, around yours, and we have to decide whether to hide or to throw back the covers. This is a day which the Lord has made. I am the person, you are the person, who will either stay or flee. We are the ones who will have to decide again whose side we are on. Decide whether once again we will renounce the devil and all his works and all his ways and get on with the task of cleaning, straightening, healing. Each day is the day of repentance and reaffirmation. This is the day we choose whether we will stand with God, lean into the future, or whether we will succumb to all that is broken and sad. God will ultimately prevail. The question for each of us is whether we will prevail with God. My brothers and sisters, each of us must be the one who stays.