Luke 13:1-5

Calamity and the Command to Repent Text: Luke 13:1-5

Introduction: The World's Worst Theologians

Whenever tragedy strikes, a host of the world's worst theologians crawl out of the woodwork. They are not found in seminaries or pulpits, but rather in newsrooms, on social media, and in the break rooms of our offices. They are the amateur commentators on the ways of God, and their commentary is almost always a variation on one of two themes. The first is the sentimentalist who asks, with a tear in his eye, "How could a good God allow this?" The second is the karmic accountant, who nods sagely and says, "Well, they must have done something to deserve it." Both are profoundly wrong, and both are addressed head on by the Lord Jesus in our text today.

We live in a soft age, an age that has forgotten what sin is. Consequently, we have forgotten what judgment is. We think of God, if we think of Him at all, as a celestial grandfather who exists to affirm our choices and ensure our general comfort. So when a tower falls, or a tyrant rages, or a disease spreads, we are spiritually disoriented. We have no category for it. Our therapeutic culture can only process suffering as a malfunction, an injustice, or a meaningless accident. We want a God who is either all-powerful but not entirely good, or all-good but not entirely powerful. We want a manageable God, a God who fits into our tidy systems of fairness.

But the God of the Bible is not manageable. He is sovereign. And in His sovereignty, He uses both the wickedness of men and the seemingly random accidents of a fallen world as a megaphone to shout a single, urgent message to all mankind. That message is the central point of this passage. It is not a message we like to hear. It is not a message that will get a preacher invited to the popular talk shows. The message is this: repent, or you will perish. Jesus takes two contemporary news stories, one an act of grotesque human evil and the other a tragic accident, and uses them to make the identical point. He does not explain the problem of evil; He applies it.


The Text

Now at that same time there were some present who were reporting to Him about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mixed with their sacrifices. And Jesus answered and said to them, “Do you think that these Galileans were greater sinners than all other Galileans because they suffered these things? I tell you, no, but unless you repent, you will all likewise perish. Or do you think that those eighteen on whom the tower in Siloam fell and killed them were worse offenders than all the men who live in Jerusalem? I tell you, no, but unless you repent, you will all likewise perish.”
(Luke 13:1-5 LSB)

The Tyrant's Blade (v. 1-3)

We begin with the first incident, a report of a political atrocity.

"Now at that same time there were some present who were reporting to Him about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mixed with their sacrifices. And Jesus answered and said to them, 'Do you think that these Galileans were greater sinners than all other Galileans because they suffered these things? I tell you, no, but unless you repent, you will all likewise perish.'" (Luke 13:1-3)

Some people come to Jesus with a news bulletin. They are reporting on a horrific act of sacrilege and cruelty. Pontius Pilate, a man known for his brutality, had apparently slaughtered a group of Galilean pilgrims while they were in the very act of offering sacrifices at the temple. This was a profound outrage. It was a collision of political tyranny and religious devotion. The blood of the worshippers was literally mingled with the blood of their sacrifices. The people reporting this are likely looking for a reaction from Jesus. Perhaps they want Him to denounce Pilate, to start a political movement, or to offer some theological explanation that will help them file this event away neatly.

They are operating under a common and deadly assumption: the retribution principle. This is the theology of Job's friends. It's the idea that there is always a direct, one-to-one correlation between the intensity of a person's suffering and the severity of their sin. If something truly awful happens to someone, they must have been a truly awful sinner. Jesus immediately identifies this faulty logic. "Do you think that these Galileans were greater sinners than all other Galileans because they suffered these things?"

His answer is a thunderous "No!" He completely demolishes their theological framework. He does not say the Galileans were sinless. He simply says they were not exceptional sinners. They were not singled out for this horrific death because their sin-quotient was higher than their neighbors'. This is a crucial lesson. When you see a man's house destroyed by a tornado, your first thought must not be, "I wonder what he did to deserve that." Your first thought must be, "I also deserve the judgment of God."

Jesus then pivots from their bad theology to His urgent application. "I tell you, no, but unless you repent, you will all likewise perish." He turns the camera from the victims to the audience. He says, in effect, "You are looking at this tragedy as spectators, trying to analyze the sins of the dead. You are missing the point entirely. This event is not primarily a statement about them; it is a warning to you." The word "likewise" is key. It doesn't necessarily mean "you will also be killed by a Roman sword." It means "you will perish in a similar state of unreadiness, under the judgment of God." The Galileans' death was sudden, violent, and final. So is the judgment that awaits every unrepentant sinner.


The Falling Tower (v. 4-5)

Lest anyone think this principle only applies to acts of human evil, Jesus immediately brings up a second example, this time a tragic accident.

"Or do you think that those eighteen on whom the tower in Siloam fell and killed them were worse offenders than all the men who live in Jerusalem? I tell you, no, but unless you repent, you will all likewise perish." (Luke 13:4-5)

This was likely another recent event, a construction accident. A tower near the pool of Siloam collapsed, killing eighteen people. There was no villain here, no Pilate to blame. This was what we would call a natural disaster or a freak accident. It was the kind of thing that makes us talk about building codes and structural engineering. But Jesus' analysis is exactly the same.

He asks the same rhetorical question: "Do you think they were worse offenders... than all the others who lived in Jerusalem?" Were these eighteen people uniquely wicked, such that God targeted them with a falling tower? Again, the answer is a decisive "No!" They were just men, living in Jerusalem, going about their business. They were sinners, yes, just like everyone else in Jerusalem. But they were not "worse offenders."

And the application is identical, repeated for maximum emphasis. "I tell you, no, but unless you repent, you will all likewise perish." The repetition is like a hammer blow. Whether the agent of death is a tyrant's sword or falling masonry, the message to the living is the same. Your life is fragile. Your death could be sudden. You live in a fallen world where evil men rage and towers fall. These events are not random noise. They are God's severe mercies. They are warning shots fired across your bow. They are meant to wake you from your spiritual slumber and drive you to repentance.


The Universal Problem and the Singular Solution

So what is the central truth Jesus is driving home? It is this: the fundamental problem is not that some people are "greater sinners" who get what they deserve. The fundamental problem is that all people are sinners who do not get what they deserve, at least not immediately. The real theological question is not, "Why do bad things happen to some people?" The real question is, "Why do good things, like the sun rising this morning and the breath in your lungs, happen to any of us?" The answer is the patience of God.

Jesus corrects our vision. We tend to think that the default state is life and prosperity, and that suffering is the strange exception that needs explaining. Jesus teaches that the default state for a sinful race is death and judgment. "The wages of sin is death" (Romans 6:23). Therefore, every day we are kept alive is an act of sheer, unmerited grace. Every tragedy is a reminder of the universal sentence of death that hangs over the entire human race.

The Galileans and the eighteen killed by the tower did not receive a special judgment. They received the ordinary judgment a little sooner than others. Their tragedy was not in the manner of their death, but in the possibility that they died without having repented. And Jesus' point is that everyone in his audience, and everyone reading this today, is in the exact same predicament. We are all under the same sentence. The tower of God's judgment is leaning over all of our heads. The only question is whether we will repent before it falls.

And what is this repentance? It is not merely feeling sorry for your sins. The Greek word is metanoia. It means a change of mind, a complete reversal of direction. It is to stop thinking you are the center of the universe and to agree with God's verdict on your sin. It is to turn from your rebellion, your self-righteousness, and your idols, and to turn toward God. And you cannot do this apart from faith in the one who is speaking these words. Repentance and faith are two sides of the same coin. You turn from your sin and you cling to Christ as your only hope of rescue from the judgment you so richly deserve.


Conclusion: Flee to Christ

This passage is a bucket of cold water in the face of our comfortable, modern sensibilities. Jesus does not offer platitudes. He does not offer a seven-step plan for avoiding tragedy. He offers a stark choice: repent or perish. The "perish" He speaks of is not just physical death. He is talking about the second death, the eternal perishing in Hell under the righteous wrath of God.

The blood of those Galileans was a terrible sight. But it points to a more terrible reality, and also to a more glorious one. All of us, because of our sin, deserve to have our blood shed under the judgment of God. But God, in His mercy, provided a sacrifice. He sent His own Son, Jesus Christ, and on the cross, Pilate's successors and the weight of a fallen world conspired to kill Him. The judgment of God that we deserved fell upon Him. His blood was shed, mingled not with the blood of bulls and goats, but mingled with the wrath of God against our sin.

Because of this, the command to repent is not a threat from a distant tyrant. It is a gracious invitation from a loving Father. It is a call to flee the collapsing tower of this fallen world and find refuge in the strong tower of the name of the Lord (Proverbs 18:10). It is a call to stop trusting in your own goodness, which is a filthy rag, and to be clothed in the perfect righteousness of Jesus Christ.

Do not misread the headlines. Do not misinterpret the calamities of this life. They are not cosmic accidents. They are sermons preached by God in the language of fire, and flood, and falling towers. And the text of every one of these sermons is Luke 13:5: "Unless you repent, you will all likewise perish." Therefore, hear the warning. Heed the call. Repent of your sins and believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and you will not perish, but you will have everlasting life.