Commentary to the Third Sunday of Lent – Year C

TO CONVERT IS TO FIND ONE’S IDENTITY

Introduction

‘Things cannot go on like this, people take advantage, they cheat, the abuses are systematic, inexcusable, and there is no change of the situation in sight.’ We have often heard complaints like these. To complain is easy, but to propose a solution is difficult. To deplore violations of human rights, draft official communications, and proclaim one’s indignation can be of some benefit. Still, many times, complaints, especially when they are reduced to formal gestures and diplomatic declarations, remain ineffective.

Some people get carried away by irrepressible irritation, resentment, revenge in the face of injustice, and they react with some rash gestures. The use of violence has never yielded positive results; in fact, it has always caused trouble, often irreparable.

There is another possible choice: disinterest. It is the option of one who closes himself in his small world. He avoids getting involved, even just emotionally, in others’ problems unless the events affect his personal or family life. What should we do? The social, political, and economic reality of the world challenges us. We cannot run away from it and observe it from the outside as idle spectators. But how to intervene? There is only one correct way: today’s Word of God suggests it.

To internalize the message, we repeat: “The Lord is merciful and gracious. He frees us from all sins and heals all diseases.”

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First Reading: Exodus 3:1-8a,13-15

Moses was tending the flock of his father-in-law Jethro, the priest of Midian. Leading the flock across the desert, he came to Horeb, the mountain of God. There an angel of the Lord appeared to Moses in fire flaming out of a bush. As he looked on, he was surprised to see that the bush, though on fire, was not consumed. So Moses decided, “I must go over to look at this remarkable sight, and see why the bush is not burned.”

When the Lord saw him coming over to look at it more closely, God called out to him from the bush, “Moses! Moses!” He answered, “Here I am.” God said, “Come no nearer! Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place where you stand is holy ground. I am the God of your fathers,” he continued, “the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, the God of Jacob.” Moses hid his face, for he was afraid to look at God. But the Lord said, “I have witnessed the affliction of my people in Egypt and have heard their cry of complaint against their slave drivers, so I know well what they are suffering. Therefore I have come down to rescue them from the hands of the Egyptians and lead them out of that land into a good and spacious land, a land flowing with milk and honey.”

Moses said to God, “But when I go to the Israelites and say to them, ‘The God of your fathers has sent me to you,’ if they ask me, ‘What is his name?’ what am I to tell them?” God replied, “I am who am.” Then he added, “This is what you shall tell the Israelites: I AM sent me to you.”

God spoke further to Moses, “Thus shall you say to the Israelites: The Lord, the God of your fathers, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, the God of Jacob, has sent me to you.

“This is my name forever, thus am I to be remembered through all generations.” —The Word of the Lord.

Israel experienced her God first as a liberator, and only later did she discover that he is also a father, mother, husband, king, shepherd, guide, and ally. The reading tells how this revelation of God as a liberator began. Moses is in the Sinai desert. He is there because he made a grave mistake some years back: he saw a man of his people mistreated by an Egyptian overseer. He spoke in his defense and killed the assailant (Ex 2:11-15).

Moses has an impulsive temperament. He cannot stand bullying, harassment, and abuse of power against the weak. This is also demonstrated in the desert where he fled. One day, he sat by a well, the girls came to water the flock, and some shepherds drove them out. He does not tolerate the abuse of power, jumps up, fights the villains, and helps the shepherdesses water the livestock (Ex 2:16-22).

Prudence and experience, at some point, taught him to calm down and not to meddle in the affairs of others. He suffers from being powerless when injustices are perpetrated against the weak. But what does he do? If he acts, he risks being involved in severe problems. It’s better not to think about it and let it go!

Moses takes refuge at Jethro’s, the father of the girls. He marries Jethro’s daughter and begins a poor but quiet life. Each day he goes out to graze the flock of his father-in-law and wants only to be left in peace. But can someone like him forget the Israelite brothers who are subjected to constant harassment by their bosses in Egypt? God, who knows his feelings and thoughts, one day decides to reveal his plan to him: God wants to free his people from slavery.

The story of the call of Moses is built according to the classical scheme of vocations and with the usual images that present God’s manifestations.

Moses is grazing the flock of his father-in-law at Mount Horeb. Suddenly, he sees a bush burning without being consumed. He approaches and hears the voice of God, who, after inviting him to take off his shoes, says: “I have seen the humiliation of my people in Egypt and I hear their cry when their taskmasters cruelly treat them. I know their sufferings. I have come down to free them” (vv. 7-8).

Fire is one of the most familiar images in the Bible to indicate the presence of God. In the desert, the Lord led his people “with a pillar of fire” (Ex 13:21); “he went down in fire” (Ex 19:18); and “his voice in the midst of the fire” (Deut 4:33). Here too, the fire indicates the voice of God, who reveals to his servant the risky and challenging mission he is called to do. The burning bush that is not consumed expresses very well the ‘flame of God’, which burns inwardly and gives no respite to Moses. It is the same flame Jeremiah speaks of: “But his word in my heart becomes like a fire burning deep within my bones. I try so hard to hold it in but I cannot do it”(Jer 20:9).

The image of the burning bush may have been suggested to the biblical author by a curious phenomenon in the desert. A meter tall shrub in the desert—Dictamnus albus—produces volatile oil that catches fire on scorching days. The sandals complete the symbolism of the scene. They are made from the skin of a dead animal. They are unclean and cannot be introduced in a holy place where only what recalls of life has access (even today, they must be removed before entering a mosque).

Saying that Moses was invited to remove his sandals, the sacred author wants to say that he has met God. The inspiration he had, was not of his imagination or ambition, but it came from the Lord. Now it’s possible to reconstruct what may have happened. In solitude and silence of the desert, while perhaps reflecting on the fate of his people in Egypt, Moses was enlightened. God brought him into his world; he has instilled in Moses’ heart his very own feelings, his passion for the freedom of the oppressed. God made Moses understand that to realize his dream; he needed Moses.

In this intense and profound spiritual experience, Moses became aware of the difficulties that such an arduous enterprise presented. He explained his objection to the Lord: “If I go to the Israelites and say to them: ‘The God of your fathers has sent me to you,’ they will ask me: ‘What is his name?’ What shall I answer them?”(v. 13).

God responds by revealing his name in the second part of the reading (vv. 13-15). He says to Moses: You will tell the Israelites, “I am who I am,” or rather, “I will be the one who will be” (this is the most accurate translation). Why does God want to be called in such a strange way? What does this name that recurs 6,828 times in the Bible mean? It means: you will realize who I will be; you will know who I am from what I will do.

What will the Israelites see? Certainly not a God who sits quietly in heaven, committed to maintaining order in the accounting of sins, who does not want to be disturbed and is not interested in what happens on earth. The God who will reveal himself to Israel will be a God who is passionate about his people, does not tolerate the oppression of the weak, and intervenes to free them.

The rabbis noticed that the sacred text does not say that the Israelites cried to the Lord but that he has seen the affliction of his people in Egypt and heard their cry. The Israelites cried out in pain. God listened to that lament as an invocation addressed to him and decided to help them.

God does not change his name. His feelings towards those who suffer, who undergo injustice, or are subjected to any form of oppression and abuse remain the same. He does not even change the way he accomplishes his liberation: he uses his angels—that’s how Moses is called (Ex 23:20,23). He does his works through those who allow themselves to be educated by his word, who grow in the heart his feelings and thoughts, and who are not afraid to take risks.

Second Reading: 1 Corinthians 10:1-6,10-12

I do not want you to be unaware, brothers and sisters, that our ancestors were all under the cloud and all passed through the sea, and all of them were baptized into Moses in the cloud and in the sea. All ate the same spiritual food, and all drank the same spiritual drink, for they drank from the spiritual rock that followed them, and the rock was Christ. Yet God was not pleased with most of them, for they were struck down in the desert.

These things happened as examples for us, so that we might not desire evil things, as they did. Do not grumble as some of them did, and suffered death by the destroyer. These things happened to them as an example, and they have been written down as a warning to us, upon whom the end of the ages has come. Therefore, whoever thinks he is standing secure should take care not to fall. —The Word of the Lord.

The Christian community of Corinth is quite good; however, as it happens everywhere, there are also negative aspects in their community: dissensions, immorality, and envy. Some Christians believe that receiving baptism ensures one’s salvation. Paul realizes that the Corinthians are lulled into a dangerous illusion.

To correct this false certainty, he gives the example of the people of Israel. He says that all the Israelites believed in Moses and followed him. They crossed the Red Sea, were under the cloud, ate manna, and drank the water that flowed from the rock; but, none of them entered the Promised Land because of their unfaithfulness.

The same thing can happen to Christians. They should note that the favor of God does not produce automatic and magical results. In addition to our faith in Christ (new Moses), and the sacraments such as baptism (the passage of the Red Sea), receiving the Spirit (the protection of the cloud), and being fed of the Eucharist (the bread and wine correspond to the manna and the water in the desert), a coherent life is also necessary for salvation; otherwise, we too can get lost, as what happened to the Israelites in the desert.

Gospel: Luke 13:1-9

Some people told Jesus about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with the blood of their sacrifices. Jesus said to them in reply, “Do you think that because these Galileans suffered in this way they were greater sinners than all other Galileans? By no means! But I tell you, if you do not repent, you will all perish as they did! Or those eighteen people who were killed when the tower at Siloam fell on them—do you think they were more guilty than everyone else who lived in Jerusalem? By no means! But I tell you, if you do not repent, you will all perish as they did!”

And he told them this parable: “There once was a person who had a fig tree planted in his orchard, and when he came in search of fruit on it but found none, he said to the gardener, ‘For three years now I have come in search of fruit on this fig tree but have found none. So cut it down. Why should it exhaust the soil?’ The gardener said to him in reply, ‘Sir, leave it for this year also, and I

shall cultivate the ground around it and fertilize it; it may bear fruit in the future. If not you can cut it down.’” —The Gospel of the Lord.

In the first part of the passage (vv. 1-5), two true stories are reported: a crime committed by Pilate and the sudden collapse of a tower at the pool of Siloam. Pilate was not a man with a tender heart. Historians describe several dramatic episodes that have him as the protagonist. Today's Gospel tells one.

Some pilgrims came from Galilee to offer sacrifices in the temple, probably on Easter. Easter celebrates Israel’s deliverance from Egypt. It is inevitable that it awakens in every Israelite aspiration for freedom and aggravates the feeling of revenge against Roman oppression. It is also possible that these Galileans, maybe a little bit fanatic, first exchanged some jokes with the guards; then they may have made some provocative gestures, and finally exchanged words, and they passed on to action—some shoving and a fistfight.

During big feasts, Pilate usually moved to Jerusalem from Caesarea to ensure order and to prevent riots. He does not tolerate even the hint of rebellion. He orders the soldiers to intervene, with no respect for the holy place. They massacre the unfortunate Galileans: a brutal and sacrilegious gesture, an insult to the Lord, a provocation to the people that consider the temple house of their God. There, even the priests, even in winter, must walk barefooted.

Why didn’t the Lord incinerate those responsible for this crime? The Pharisees have their answer: they argue that there is no punishment without guilt; if God willed that the sword slew those Galileans, it means that they were sinners. But how to accept this explanation? The sinner is Pilate, and the wicked are the Roman soldiers.

Someone reports to Jesus what had happened. Maybe he expected Jesus to condemn the establishment and take an anti-Roman stance. Some people expected Jesus to be involved in an armed uprising. Faced with such a crime, the reporter hoped for at least a lashing statement against Pilate from Jesus.

Jesus surprised his frantic and upset interlocutors. He keeps his calm, and no uncontrolled word escapes from his mouth. Above all, he rules out the connection between the death of these people and their sins. Then he invites us to learn a lesson from the incident: a call to conversion. To clarify his thoughts, he refers to another incident: the death of eighteen people caused by the collapse of a tower. It probably occurred during the construction of an aqueduct at the pool of Siloam. These people—says Jesus—were not punished because of their sins. They died of misfortune; others could have been in their place. This event, too, is to be read as a call to conversion. Jesus’ answer seems to evade the issue. Why does he not take a stance against the massacre? His answer surprises because he has always been genuine and has had no fear of speaking his mind.

The oppressive social and political structures (that of Pilate) are generally very powerful, have deep roots, and defend themselves through powerful means. It is an illusion to think that they can be overthrown in a moment. Some believe that violence can be an effective, quick, and safe way to restore justice. It is the worst of illusions! The use of force does not produce anything good and does not solve problems but only creates new and more challenging ones.

Jesus does not comment directly on the crime committed by Pilate. He does not want to get involved in conversations just to swear and curse. He is certainly not insensitive to the sufferings and misfortunes. He is moved to tears for the love of his country. However, he knows that aggression, disdain, anger, hatred, desire for revenge is useless and counterproductive. These feelings only lead to reckless actions that complicate the situation even more. The call of Jesus to conversion is a call to change the way of thinking.

The Jews cultivated feelings of violence, vengeance, and resentment against their oppressors; however, God did not. It was vital that they reviewed their position and renounced the confidence they placed in the power of the sword. Unfortunately, they did not, and forty years later, they perished (both guilty and innocent) in a massacre.

Jesus does not try to evade the problem; he proposes a different solution. He rejects the palliatives. He invites us to intervene at the root of evil. It is useless to pretend to change something by simply replacing those who hold power with people who have the same attitude. Nothing would change. It would be like changing the actors of a show without changing the roles they perform. That is why Jesus does not adhere to the explosion of collective outrage against Pilate. He calls us to conversion; proposes a change in attitude. Only those who are transformed in their heart can build a new world.

How much time do we have to make this change in attitude? Can it be deferred by a few months or a few years? Jesus answers these questions in the second part of today’s Gospel (vv. 6-9) with the parable of the fig tree. The Bible often speaks of this plant that gives very sweet fruits twice a year in spring and autumn. In ancient times, it was the symbol of prosperity and peace (1 Kgs 4:25; Is 36:16). In the desert of Sinai, the Israelites dreamed of land with abundant water sources, wheat fields, and fig trees ... (Deut 8:8; Num 20:5).

The parable's message is clear: from those who have heard the message of the Gospel; God expects delicious and plentiful fruits. He does not want exterior religious practices and is not content with appearances (in the spring, the fig tree bears fruit even before the leaves), but he seeks works of love.

Unlike other evangelists who speak of a barren fig tree that is made to wither almost instantly (Mk 11:12-24; Mt 21:18-22), Luke, the evangelist of mercy, introduces another year of waiting before the definitive intervention. He presents a God who is patient, tolerant to human weakness and stubbornness.

This stoic attitude, however, is not understood as indifference to evil. It is not an endorsement of neglect, indifference, and superficiality. Time is too valuable to be wasted. As soon as one sees the light of Christ, he must accept and follow it immediately. The parable is an invitation to consider Lent as a time of grace, as a new ‘precious year’ granted to the fig tree (each person) to bear fruit.