We are at the heart of our Lenten journey, and today the Gospel begins by presenting Jesus who comments on some news of the day. While people still remember the 18 who died when a tower collapsed on them, they tell him about some Galileans whom Pilot had killed (cf. Lk 13:1). And there is a question that seems to accompany these tragic affairs: who is to blame for these terrible events? Perhaps those people were guiltier than others and God punished them? These are questions that also come up today. When crime news weighs on us and we feel powerless before evil, we often ask ourselves: is it perhaps a punishment from God? Did he bring about a war or a pandemic to punish us for our sins? And why does the Lord not intervene?

We must be careful: when evil oppresses us, we run the risk of losing our clarity and, in order to find an easy answer to what we are unable to explain, we end up putting the blame on God. And very often the bad habit of using profanities comes from this. How often do we attribute to him our woes and misfortunes in the world, to he who instead leaves us always free and hence never intervenes by imposing himself, but only by proposing himself; He who never uses violence and indeed suffers for us and with us! In fact, Jesus rejects and strongly contests the idea of blaming God for our evils: those persons who were killed by Pilate and those who died beneath the tower were not any more at fault than others, and they were not victims of a ruthless and vindictive God, which does not exist! Evil can never come from God because “He does not deal with us according to our sins” (Ps 103:10), but according to his mercy. This is God’s style. He cannot treat us otherwise. He always treats us with mercy.

But rather than blaming God, Jesus says we need to look within ourselves: it is sin that produces death; it is our selfishness that tears apart relationships; it is our wrong and violent choices that unleash evil. At this point the Lord offers the true solution. What is it? Conversion: He says, “unless you repent you will all likewise perish” (Lk 13:5). It is an urgent call, especially during this time of Lent. Let us welcome it with an open heart. Let us convert from evil, let us renounce the sin that seduces us, let us be open to the logic of the Gospel because where love and fraternity reign, evil no longer has power!

But Jesus knows that conversion is not easy, and he wants to help us here. He knows that we often repeat the same mistakes and the same sins; that we become discouraged, and perhaps it may seem that our commitment to do good is useless in a world where evil appears to rule. Thus, after his appeal, he encourages us with a parable that tells of the patience of God. We must keep in mind God’s patience, the patience he has for us. He offers the comforting image of a fig tree that does not bear fruit during the accorded season, but is not cut down. More time is given to it, another possibility. I like to think that a nice name for God could be “the God of another possibility”: God always gives us another opportunity, always, always. That is what his mercy is like. This is how the Lord is with us. He does not cut us out of his love. He does not lose heart or tire of offering us his trust again, with tenderness. Brothers and sisters, God believes in us! God trusts us and accompanies us with patience, the patience of God with us. He does not become discouraged, but always instils his hope in us. God is Father and looks after you like a father. As the best of fathers, he does not look at the achievements you have not yet reached, but the fruits you can still bear. He does not keep track of your shortcomings but encourages your potential. He does not dwell on your past, but confidently bets on your future. This is because God is close to us, he is close to us. Let us not forget that the style of God is closeness. He is close with mercy and tenderness. In this way, God accompanies us: with closeness, mercy, and tenderness.