The Big Dig    3 Lent, March 23, 2025             The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling

 “The Big Dig was a megaproject in Boston that rerouted the then elevated Central Artery of Interstate 93 that cut across Boston into the O'Neill Tunnel and built the Ted Williams Tunnel to extend Interstate 90 to Logan International Airport. The project constructed the Zakim Bunker Hill Bridge over the Charles River, created the Rose Kennedy Greenway in the space vacated by the previous I-93 elevated roadway, and funded more than a dozen projects to improve the region's public transportation system. Planning for the project began in 1982. Construction work was carried out between 1991 and 2006. The project concluded in December 2007. The project's general contractor was Bechtel, with Parsons Brinckerhoff as the engineers, who worked as a consortium, both overseen by the Massachusetts Highway Department.”

“The Big Dig was the most expensive highway project in the United States, and was plagued by cost overruns, delays, leaks, design flaws, accusations of poor execution and use of substandard materials, criminal charges and arrests, and the death of one motorist. The project was originally scheduled to be completed in 1998 at an estimated cost of $2.8 billion, US $7.4 billion adjusted for inflation as of 2020.The project was completed in December 2007 at a cost of over $8.08 billion in 1982 dollars, $21.5 billion adjusted for inflation, a cost overrun of about 190%. As a result of a death, leaks, and other design flaws, the Parsons Brinckerhoff and Bechtel consortium agreed to pay $407 million in restitution, and several smaller companies agreed to pay a combined sum of approximately $51 million.” (Wikipedia)

Where was DOGE then? And every year thereafter? Or how about those other institutions that are plagued by people “looking the other way,” maintaining a silence that denies the sin, inaction that not only is unhelpful but is also harmful? Perhaps this is why St. Paul wrote to the Christians in Corinth, telling them that these “failings” of people and organizations, of their leaders and our law-makers, are intended to be examples for us all. And not just examples but also invitations and opportunities for us to correct them, restore them, and renew them for the good of God’s people.

“At that very time there were some present who told Jesus about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices. He asked them, "Do you think that because these Galileans suffered in this way they were worse sinners than all other Galileans? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish as they did. Or those eighteen who were killed when the tower of Siloam fell on them--do you think that they were worse offenders than all the others living in Jerusalem? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish just as they did."

“Then Jesus told this parable: "A man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard; and he came looking for fruit on it and found none. So he said to the gardener, 'See here! For three years I have come looking for fruit on this fig tree, and still I find none. Cut it down! Why should it be wasting the soil?' He replied, 'Sir, let it alone for one more year, until I dig around it and put manure on it. If it bears fruit next year, well and good; but if not, you can cut it down.'" (Luke 13:1-9)

Our world, then and now, is literally layered with successive political, socio-economic, and religious systems that are built on the broken promises of those who have tried and gone before. We are broken people living with broken systems. These unjust and sinful systems are hard to reform and correct without clear-eyed intention, integrity, and collaboration. It is easy to point to world leaders and blame them for our wars and political ruins. It is easy to point to rebellious people and blame them for our violence. It is easy to point to immoral people and claim that they died because of their indulgences. But reform never was easy. And we are all guilty.

Jesus often levels the playing field in the gospel of Luke. He states that we are all sinners, and our Anglican moral theology reminds us that a sin is a sin is a sin, no matter how large, no matter how small. “Do you think that because they suffered in this way, they were worse sinners than you?” “No,” he says; “but unless we repent, we shall perish as they did.” The Roman armies have become Russian armies and Ukrainian armies. Terrorists of every kind destroy human lives. Diseases proliferate, and nuclear bombs level the playing fields.

Lent is our Big Dig. It is that season in some of our religious traditions when it is an opportunity to look at ourselves and our world and name some truths. We are reminded of our mortality, that we are dust and to dust we shall return. It is a time when we name and claim our sins: personal, systemic, and universal. It is a time when we repent, when we think again about who we are and the choices that we make. Do we choose life, justice and mercy, walking humbly with our God and our neighbors?

“Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” poet Mary Oliver asks in the poem A Summer's Day. And in her poem, from her book of poems, The Unfolding, Rosemary Wahtola Trommer offers some answers.

So I can’t save the world -

can’t even save myself

can’t wrap my arms around

every frightened child, can’t

foster peace among nations,

can’t bring love to all who

feel unlovable.

So I practice opening my heart

right here in this room and being gentle

with my insufficiency. I practice

walking down the street head first.

And if it is insufficient to share love,

I will practice loving anyway.

I want to converse about truth,

about trust. I want to invite compassion

into every interaction.

One willing heart can’t stop a war.

One willing heart can’t feed the hungry.

And sometimes, daunted by a task too big,

I tell myself, What’s the use of trying?

But today, the invitation is clear:

To be ridiculously courageous in love.

To open the heart like a lilac in May,

knowing freezing is possible

and opening anyway.

To take love seriously.

To give love wildly.

To race up to the world

as if I were a puppy,

adoring and unjaded,

stumbling on my own exuberance.

To feel the shock of indifference,

of anger, of cruelty, of fear,

and stay open. To love as if it matters,

as if the world depends on it. 

Lent is our Big Dig. As we dig around the roots of our mortal lives, we often uncover some things that invite change. As we get our hands dirty, smelling the odor of manure in our nostrils, breaking our backs on the hard work of gardening, we come to realize that digging isn’t just painful, however, but also healing and constructive. We let some things die as we plant seeds for new life. With digging and fertilizing we begin to bear fruit worthy of repentance. We grow spiritually closer to the Light and God’s Love.

Unfortunately, repentance is often considered only an individual and personal activity; but it is also communal and global. Although we can only change ourselves, living only one day at a time, we can make a difference when we join others in creative and collaborative work. Together, we become the hands, heart, and feet of Christ. Faith unrealized and unfulfilled, not actualized and embodied, remains not only dead but it also stinks!

As faithful Christians and moral human beings, we can offer simple acts of kindness and moral goodness every day. As the saying goes, “We can think globally; and act locally.” So here’s a final story from Peace Tales: World Folktales to Talk About which I’ve told before and yet it bears repeating.

 “Once upon a time, a man visited hell, where he was amazed to find people sitting around a table, with all kinds of food piled high. Maybe hell wasn’t so bad, he thought.”

“But then the man looked closely at the people; and they all looked hungry - in fact, they looked like they hadn’t eaten in a very long time. He noticed that everyone around the table had been given chopsticks that were 3 feet long; but the people couldn’t get any of the food into their mouths. And so, the man could see that this indeed was hell.”

“Next the man went to heaven. To his surprise, he saw people seated around a table filled with the same good foods. They also had chopsticks that were three feet long! But this time the man noticed that these people looked happy, full, and satisfied.The difference was that they were using their chopsticks to feed each other!”

This Lent, we can ask ourselves what fruit will we bear before our fig trees are cut down? How will we respond to the suffering of others? And will we speak and act like Jesus, the only One who was without sin, and a perfect example for us all? Repent and turn to the good news of the gospel. Our God is a God of forgiveness and second chances, of Light and Love. Repent and return to the Lord.

 1 Corinthians 10:1-13                Luke 13:1-9