Homilies
Repentance is for Everyone
Holy Spirit take my words and speak to each of us according to our need.
We often say that our church is a welcoming place. We take pride in our traditions, in our community, in the way we uphold the faith.
But let me ask a difficult question—are we welcoming in the way that Christ is welcoming, or do we expect people to become just like us before they truly belong? Do we see church as the Body of Christ, open to all, or as a private club where only those who “fit in” are truly embraced? Are we all on the same page and working towards a Christ-like welcome?
Today’s Gospel challenges us. It calls us to look not at the sins of others but at our own hearts. It reminds us that repentance is for all of us—not just those who we think need to change.
In the Gospel today, Jesus confronts our judgmental tendencies. The people who approached Jesus were troubled by tragic events: Pilate had massacred some Galileans while they were offering sacrifices and a tower in Siloam had collapsed, killing eighteen people.
And what did the people at that time assume? That those who suffered must have been worse sinners than others and that God must have been punishing them in some way.
But Jesus completely rejects this way of thinking. He does not allow them to sit in judgment over others. Instead, He turns the question back on them: “Do you think these Galileans were worse sinners than all the others? No! But unless you repent, you too will perish.”
How often do we quietly decide that some people don’t really belong in the church? Do we still think that those who don’t behave, dress, or worship exactly like us are less Christian? Have we built invisible gates around our church, where new people are welcome only if they conform to our way of doing things? These are challenging questions and we might not like the answers that we really should give if we are honest with ourselves. Jesus warns us: Repentance is not just for “those people”—it is for us, too.
Jesus told a parable about a fig tree: For three years it has produced no fruit. The owner wants to cut it down, but the gardener pleads for one more year to nurture it.
The fig tree represents us as the Church. We may look alive, but are we bearing fruit? Are we truly growing in love, mercy, and welcome? Or have we become comfortable gatekeepers, keeping the Church just as we like it, rather than making room for others?
If we spend all our energy protecting our tradition but not making disciples, we are like the barren fig tree—alive but fruitless. If we only welcome those who fit in but ignore the broken, the struggling, and the different, are we really a church, or just a club? If we have no desire to grow, God’s patience will not last forever.
Let’s consider this - What if Christ is the gardener saying, “Give them one more year—let’s see if they bear fruit”? What if this Lent is our chance to repent and become a church that truly reflects Christ’s love?
Repentance means changing direction—not just as individuals, but as a church. Just as an apology means nothing without changed behaviour, the same is true of repentance. And change is hard, difficult and uncomfortable. You might recall the proverb about needing to break eggs to make an omelette….sometimes to rebuild something, it requires a breaking down first.
A True welcome does not mean expecting people to be just like us—it means embracing them as they are, just as Christ embraced us. The Church is not a club for the righteous; it is a hospital for sinners. The Gospel is not just for people who look, act, and worship like us—it is for everyone.
So this Lent, we should make time to examine ourselves and our role in the church and ask ourselves:
Are we a church of Christ, or a church of comfort?
Do we love people as they are, or do we love them only if they change?
Do we make people feel like guests in our church, or family in God’s house? – I particularly like this one. If I went to my best friends house, I would feel at home enough to make my own drink, tuck my feet up underneath me on the sofa and perhaps help myself to a chocolate out of the box on the table. If I was a guest in someone’s house, I would wait to be offered a drink, I would remove my shoes and sit properly on the furniture, I would wait for an invitation to take food. – both situations are polite and acceptable but the latter one means I am not part of that household, I am welcome, but I don’t belong.
Jesus warns us that a church that does not bear fruit will be cut down.
Lent is not a season for us to point fingers at the world. It is a time for reflection and for us to look inward.
What role have we played if we have been more concerned with keeping the church comfortable than bringing in the lost?
Have we silently expected people to become “like us” before they truly belong?
Have we truly welcomed people as Christ welcomes us?
Jesus gives us one more season, one more Lent, one more opportunity to repent. This is our moment to turn back, to change, to open the doors of our church—not just in word, but in action. Because if we do not, Jesus warns, the tree that bears no fruit will not stand forever.
So, Let us not assume we still have time. Let us bear fruit—before it is too late.
I’d like to finish today with a challenge for us all this Lent:
Let us Examine our hearts: Are we truly welcoming, or just polite to newcomers?
Can we Change our mindset: Do we love people as they are, or as we want them to be?
And how might we bear fruit: This Lent, let us not just observe traditions—let us live out the radical welcome of Christ. Let people come, welcome them in, let them make drinks and go barefoot – whatever it means to them to really belong. We are here, we all have a calling to share the good news, so take a look around. Who is missing from our family, who could we invite to come and be with us and find a home here?
May this season of Lent be one where we do not simply keep the faith—but share it, live it, and open it freely to all.
Amen