Lent 3C - 2025

Sermon for the Third Sunday in Lent
St. Paul’s Episcopal Church
The Rev. Andrew McLarty

Grace and peace to you from God, who is, who was, and who is to come. Amen.

Today, we encounter two profound moments in Scripture: the revelation of God’s name to Moses at the burning bush and Jesus’ parable of the fig tree. At first glance, these passages may seem unrelated, but together they reveal the heart of who God is and how He calls us to respond to His presence in our lives.

In Exodus, we meet Moses, a man on the run, tending sheep in the wilderness. It is here, in the ordinary moments of life, that God appears to him in a burning bush. This miraculous sight captures Moses’ attention, and God speaks: “I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.” God then commissions Moses to lead His people out of Egypt.

But Moses hesitates. “Who am I,” he asks, “to go to Pharaoh and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?” God responds with a promise: “I will be with you.” Still, Moses presses further: “What if they ask me, ‘What is his name?’ What shall I say to them?” And here, in this moment, God reveals His name: “I AM WHO I AM.” Tell them, “I AM has sent me to you.”

This name, YHWH, is more than a label. It is a revelation of God’s very nature. “I AM” tells us that God is the self-existent One, the source of all being, the One who was, who is, and who will always be — the eternal moment. He is the God of the covenant, faithful to His promises, present with His people in their suffering, and mighty to save. This name invites us into relationship with the eternal, unchanging God, who knows us by name and calls us to participate in His work of liberation and redemption.

If God is the great “I AM,” then we are not the center of the universe. Our plans, our agendas, our fears must yield to His will. Like Moses, like Jonah heading to Nineveh, we are called to trust in God’s presence and step into the unknown, even when we feel inadequate, afraid, or it conflicts with our schedules.

This brings us to Jesus’ parable of the fig tree in Luke’s Gospel. A fig tree planted in a vineyard fails to bear fruit, and the owner demands it be cut down. But the gardener pleads for more time: “Let it alone for one more year. we will tend it, fertilize it, nurture it. If it bears fruit next year, well and good; but if not, you can cut it down.”

This parable is a Lenten mirror, reflecting our own lives back to us. Are we bearing fruit across the year? Are we living in alignment with God’s will, rooted in the “I AM” who gives us life? The parable reminds us that God is patient, giving us time to stop and reflect. To act, take stock, add a change to our behavior, act again, and repeat that cycle — basically to repent and grow. But the fig tree also warns us that time is a gift, not a guarantee. The call to bear fruit is active and present.

So, what does it mean to bear fruit? It means to live lives of love, justice, and compassion. It means to trust in the “I AM” and allow His presence to sustain us in the eternal moment, praying that our own wisdom, courage and faith will transform us. It means to participate in God’s work of liberation, just as Moses did, by standing with the oppressed, speaking truth to power, and trusting in God’s faithfulness.

This Lent, let us return to the “I AM,” the source of our being and the ground of our hope. Let us allow God to dig around the roots of our lives, to prune what is barren, and to nourish what is good. And let us bear fruit that glorifies His name, trusting in His patience and grace, but also heeding His call to live with urgency and purpose.

For the “I AM” is with us, now and always. Thanks be to God.

Amen.