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Prayer for Understanding

Abba Father, we turn to the Scripture to seek Your wisdom and Your truth.

Send Your Holy Spirit to open our minds and hearts to receive Your Word for our lives and our times. Equip us to follow Jesus Christ, Your Living Word. Amen.

Today is the third Sunday of Lent. Lent is a time to open our hearts a little wider to understand our Lord Jesus and His amazing grace a little deeper so that when Good Friday and eventually Easter come, it is not just another day at church but an opportunity to receive the overflowing graces God has poured out to us through His Son, Jesus Christ.

Lent is supposed to be an intense time of repentance as we examine our sinful natures and return to God.

It is a season where we are invited to look inward, to reflect on our lives, our faith, and our relationship with God.

It is also a chance to participate, in a small way, in His sufferings through fasting and prayer, and to contemplate what our Lord did for us on the Cross through Scripture reading.

My prayer is that for the rest of this Lenten season, all of us may experience a meaningful and enlightening time of spiritual renewal.

The other day, I saw a neighbor cleaning up his garden. Even though we had hail and snow last week, I noticed flowers blooming, pushing through the cold soil as if declaring that spring was near.

My mother-in-law, who loves gardening, used to say that most vegetables, herbs, and flowers will be fruitful as long as she puts in love and effort.

However, once in a while, there would be a fruit tree that simply refused to bear fruit, no matter how much care she gave it.

Eventually, after years of waiting, she would pull the tree out because it was useless and fruitless.

I know many of you enjoy gardening. What would you do with an unproductive tree or unblooming flowers?

Would you continue to nurture them, hoping that one more year of care might change everything? Or would you give up on them?

This is the dilemma presented in today’s Gospel reading from Luke 13:1-9.

We have been journeying through the Gospel of Luke, following Jesus as He makes His way to Jerusalem.

Today’s passage takes place along that journey, as Jesus, ever aware of His mission, moves steadfastly toward the Cross.

Before today’s passage, Jesus had been teaching about the urgency of repentance and the need to seek salvation.

In the midst of His teaching, He was informed of a shocking event — Pontius Pilate had slaughtered a group of Galileans.

Pilate, who governed Judea under Roman rule for about a decade, was notorious for his harsh and oppressive tactics to suppress dissent and maintain order.

Although the Bible does not provide details about why this massacre occurred, it is likely that these Galileans were accused of being insurgents and were executed while offering sacrifices at the temple.

The brutal act of mingling their blood with that of their sacrificial animals would have been horrifying and profane, deeply disturbing to the Jews.

It was as unthinkable as the modern-day attacks we hear about in the news.

Imagine the horror we felt when seventy Christians were found beheaded in a church in the northeastern Democratic Republic of Congo in February, a devastating attack on believers gathered in worship.

Or when a mob of nearly 200 people stormed a church in Rajasthan, India, attacking 50 Christians during their Sunday service.

Or the tragic shooting at First Baptist Church in Sutherland Springs, Texas, in 2017, when a gunman opened fire during worship, killing 26 and wounding 20 more.

Hearing such news, people often ask, "Why?"

Some in Jesus’ audience likely thought, “Why did these Galileans have to die so horrendously? Why were they slaughtered while worshiping God?”

They perhaps assumed that these victims must have committed terrible sins to deserve such a fate — after all, wasn’t suffering often seen as divine punishment?

Sensing their thoughts, Jesus responds with a piercing question: "Do you think that because these Galileans suffered in this way, they were worse sinners than all other Galileans?"

Then He gives a firm answer: "No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish as they did."

Jesus then brings up another tragic event — a recent disaster in which the tower of Siloam collapsed, killing 18 people.

This tower was likely part of Jerusalem’s old city wall, guarding the channel that brought water to the Pool of Siloam.

The victims were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. They were at Siloam to get water when the structure gave way, crushing them beneath the rubble.

It was a catastrophe, much like the modern tragedies we witness today.

Think of the Jeju Air plane crash in Muan, Korea, on December 29 last year, which killed 179 people—all but two crew members.

Or the American Airlines collision with a military helicopter that killed 67 people.

Beyond such accidents, what about the increasing number of natural disasters —earthquakes, wildfires, and floods— devastating communities due to climate change?

These events leave us grappling with the same ancient question: Why did such things happen to them?

Jesus once again asks, “Do you suppose this proves that they were worse than all the other people living in Jerusalem?”

Consider the two crew members who dramatically survived the Jeju Air plane crash. 

Were they spared because they were more righteous or deserving than the 179 people who lost their lives, including the 3-year-old child?

We often assume that those who suffer must have done something to deserve it.

Though we may not say it aloud, we are prone to thinking that people who experience tragedy must have made poor choices, failed in some way, or even been punished by God.

This is what we call victim-blaming—it shifts blame onto the sufferer instead of confronting the deeper realities of a broken world, much like how Job’s friends wrongly assumed his suffering was due to his sin.

Or, perhaps deep down, we reassure ourselves that we have been spared from such disaster because we are better — we volunteer more, give more offerings, pray more, or live more righteously.

But this, too, is self-righteousness, a dangerous illusion that blinds us to grace.

Jesus gives the same unwavering response: 'No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish just as they did.'

Instead of judging others when tragedy strikes, Jesus calls us to examine our own hearts, recognize our need for repentance, and turn back to God.

To drive this point home, He tells a parable about a fig tree—a tree that had every opportunity to thrive but remained barren.

The owner of the vineyard wanted to cut it down, but the gardener pleaded, “Sir, leave it alone for one more year. Let me dig around it, fertilize it, and care for it. If it bears fruit next year, great! If not, then you can cut it down.”

One more year.

One more chance.

The fig tree had been given everything it needed—good soil, a caring gardener, a second chance. And so have we.

This parable is not just about an unfruitful tree. It’s about you, me, and the church.

        When the gardener tells the vineyard owner to “leave it alone,” the Greek word used is, ἄφες, aphes, which is also the root word for “forgive.” It is identical to “forgive (aphes) our sins” in the Lord’s Prayer.

The gardener’s plea can be understood not just as “leave it alone,” but as “forgive it” for its fruitlessness. And this forgiveness is not passive neglect—it is active, patient love.

The fig tree is not abandoned to its barrenness; instead, the gardener tends to it with care, digging around its roots, feeding it, and giving it every opportunity to thrive.

In the same way, God does not leave us alone in our struggles to bear fruit. He nurtures us, prunes us, and patiently works in our lives, pouring out His grace so that we may grow.

Yet, like the fig tree, we must respond. We are called to turn to Him, the source of life, like a tree planted by streams of living water.

Each day we stand by God’s mercy, for “the Lord is merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.”

Even when we fall short, His grace grants us time—not just to exist, but to be transformed, to bear fruit, to flourish.

You, I, and the church are given one more chance to bear fruit of repentance. We are given another day, another chance.

Friends, some of us have received a literal second chance —

surviving a car accident, recovering from a serious illness, or making it through a life-threatening surgery.

These moments remind us that life is fragile, that every breath is a gift we cannot take for granted.

If God has granted you more time, it is not without purpose.

He is calling you, giving you another opportunity by His grace and mercy. So, what will you do with the gift of today?

As we walk through this season of Lent, let us not take His patience for granted.

Let us give thanks to the One who has spared us and offered us another opportunity to turn back to Him.

Be less concerned with the sins of others and more focused on our own character and godliness.

This is the time.

Let us confess that Jesus is Lord and examine our hearts.

Let us shift our focus from our struggles to the suffering Christ who endured for our sins.

Today, if you hear His voice, do not harden your hearts — come back to God.

This is your one more chance. What will you do with it?

Let us pray.

Gracious and patient God, we thank You for Your boundless mercy.

You have given us yet another chance to turn to You, to bear the fruit of true repentance, and to walk in Your ways.

During this season of Lent, search our hearts and help us examine our lives with honesty and humility.

May we never take Your kindness for granted, but instead, use each day as an opportunity to grow in love and obedience.

In Your merciful and mighty name, we pray. Amen.