A few weeks ago, we reflected together on the image of a tree from a passage in Jeremiah. The prophet was comparing a person who is faithful to a tree planted by a stream, untroubled by drought, deeply rooted and nourished in all seasons.
We spent some time applying this image to our own lives, reflecting on it, and then drawing a picture of the tree we are, the season we find ourselves in and the sources of nourishment we are drawing from.
So, it might be helpful to cast your mind back to the image you drew and the things that formed part of your ecosystem as we reflect together on the gospel reading this week.
The passage starts with a disturbing newsreel of atrocities and suffering caused by a failure of government and kind of natural disaster/engineering miscalculation.
Jesus’ response to these instances of suffering is a call to repentance… and that’s slightly confusing given that he also seems to be saying that the suffering wasn’t caused by these people’s sinfulness.
In many other places, Jesus seems to work hard to dispel the myth that God sends suffering on people who deserve it and sends blessings on those who have earned them.
It is a persistent understanding, though, and you may find that you also harbour this idea in some form or to some degree in your own faith journey.
How many times in your life has something good happened and you have offered thanks to God? Nothing wrong with that, right?
But how many times has something bad happened and you have wondered what have I done to deserve this? Or What lesson do I need to learn here? Or What could I have done to avoid this? And, What do I need to do now, to get back to where I was…to restore God’s favour? What do I need to repent of?
It’s interesting that Jesus follows up this urgent call to repentance then, with the parable of the fruitless fig tree.
Let’s explore the parable a bit to see if we can shed some light of what Jesus might be getting at here.
First of all, consider what happens if we say the man who owns the vineyard and plants the fig tree in it represents God.
Who is the fig tree, then? Is it you and me?
So, would that mean that the gardener is Jesus? Jesus intervenes between a frustrated father God who has looked at you for three years and found no fruit in your life and is now ready to give you the tree the heave ho and not waste any more time and resources on you?
That gives us a rather distorted image of God, don’t you think?
Frustrated, impatient, dismissive….not words I generally associate with the Divine energy of love, joy, peace, hope or grace….
So, then what if you are the vineyard owner?
What if the fig tree is your own soul and Jesus the gardener is pleading for you to let him tend and nurture your deepest being?
That resonates with me, feels closer to the truth of my own experience and of my experience of God – far more hopeful, patient, resourceful and forgiving than I am about my own growth and tending to my soul…
Or what if the fig tree is Israel, as it is in a number of different instances in the scriptures….and what if God the vineyard owner is ready to diversify and let the Gentiles into the covenant but wants to give the fig tree one last chance? Jesus the gardener is willing to work at that hard earth and pour out goodness into that soil.
Everything changes when we shift the interpretation of the players in the parable, doesn’t it?
And what about if we look at what the gardener proposes to the vineyard owner. He says: Let me dig around it and give it some manure.
Did you know that when you dig around the roots of a plant you do a number of things?
You aerate the soil, giving space for nutrients to be more easily accessible for the roots, giving breathing space for soil borne bacteria to do its work breaking down the manure that is going to nourish the earth.
You also break up the roots that are near the surface and force the plant to dig deeper into the earth, to reach into untapped resources and find cooler, more moisture rich soil.
So digging around the roots is a way of pushing into the depths. It’s probably stressful for the plant at first because the easy space -the access to the goods available at the surface of life – is disrupted, even broken off.
And when the gardener says let me give the fig tree some manure, well, I know when the manure is piling up in my life, I am not often happy about it.
So let’s pause here and circle back to where we started in the gospel passage, with that myth that God sends blessings on those who have earned them and punishes with suffering those who deserve it.
Digging around the roots and adding manure to a life, in this parable, are how the gardener tends the tree. How the gardener hopes to coax some fruit to grow. These are stressful interventions. They are not going to look like blessings.
Paul has a couple of wise things to offer us when we’re considering what it means to suffer and what it means to grow into a mature and sincere faith.
In reflecting on his own experiences of suffering, which were many and often quite extreme, he says this:
I know what it is to have little, and I know what it is to have plenty. In any and all circumstances I have learned the secret of being well-fed and of going hungry, of having plenty and of being in need.
The secret of contentment with what comes, is learning not to resist it or resent it, but instead recognising that it simply is what is happening now and working with it. It’s digging deep in a very real sense.
This is an external practice of welcome which is matched by the internal practice of welcome in the prayer of the name from last week.
The practice of prayer like that is a practice that pushes our roots deep and without that kind of practice, what Paul tells the folks at Thessalonica would not be possible, for he tells them to:
Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.
The fruits of a life lived in harmony and energised by the Spirit are love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness and self control.
I don’t know if you’ve also noticed this, but I have come to believe that these are all very slow growing fruit.
Would you say that you are any more patient than you were last year? Or more joyful? If so, what has helped you to grow these fruits? If not, what do you need to practice or learn?
I think it’s worth reminding ourselves that we are partners with God in our growth toward fruitfulness – we have to be – or it will not happen.
I think this is what gives urgency to Jesus’ call to repent or we will perish. We’ll perish but not because God is punishing us or giving up on us, but because the surface of your life simply doesn’t have the resources to sustain you so that you can grow.
If you don’t dig deep, you will miss out on the fullness of life – which means everyone will miss out on the unique gifts that only you can bring.
I wonder what fruit you would draw on the image of the tree that you are now and the season and ecosystem that reflects your life now? I wonder what manure has been tipped into your soil and how you have worked with that…
I do know that the more you practice prayerfully welcoming the present moment, seeing the challenges and struggles as an opportunity to go deeper, the more you will find yourself shifting from the easy pattern of living at the surface and the more you will tap into wisdom, peace and joy.
This, surely, is the kind of repentance Jesus is urging us to – this reflects and assures us that God has no desire to punish us, to cut us off or give up on us. God’s desire is only and always for us to grow and flourish – and if this is also your desire, then once more the question we journey with through lent: What is getting in the way?
