OF TRAGEDIES, FIG TREES & GARDENERS
Exodus 3: 1-8A, 13-15; 1 Corinthians 10: 1-6, 10-12; Luke 13: 1-9
You know, sometimes it’s tough being a lowly deacon . . . especially when it comes to preaching. Do you want to know why? I’ll tell you - Priests are “Gospel Hoarders.” It’s true! They choose the best gospels to preach on for themselves. And the ones they’re not too crazy about, they give to the deacons! For example, when have you ever heard me preach on Christmas Day? Or Easter Sunday? NEVER. And so, I really suspect that Fr. Marc, Fr. Miguel and Fr. Dulibber sit around the kitchen table in the rectory to prepare the preaching schedule and Fr. Marc reads the upcoming gospels and says, “Eh . . . I don’t want to preach on THIS one.” And Fr. Dulibber says, “Well, I’ve only been ordained ten months, I certainly don’t want to!” And Fr. Miguel says, “Let’s get the deacons to do it!!!” Case in point, last week’s gospel about the Transfiguration – I could have given a GREAT homily on that! And next weeks gospel is the Parable of the Prodigal Son! Even now, my mind is flooding with ideas about what I would say. But today’s gospel . . . mmm . . . not so much. I have to admit, it’s not one of my favorites. And reflecting on it this past week, I think one of the reason’s it isn’t is that, for me, in a mere nine verses, it’s all over the place emotionally. And its message is consoling, confusing and disturbing.
So today’s gospel begins with the people discussing what is weighing heavily on their minds and in their hearts. Pontius Pilate has made a religious sacrifice to the Emperor—who was often considered a kind of demigod in those days—and as a part of that burnt sacrifice, he slaughtered a gathering of Galilean Jews and placed their remains on the sacrificial pyre, mixing their blood with the blood of the animal sacrifices that the Galilean pilgrims had brought to the Temple. And as if that isn’t horrifying enough, at the same time that Jesus hears of Pilate’s treachery, news arrives that a tower in Siloam has fallen, crushing eighteen people.
We can relate, can’t we? Because technology has made the world smaller, we hear of all the disturbing and unsettling tragedies from around our country and in our world; tragedies which break our hearts and shock our sensibilities. (For example, the killing of fifty worshippers last week in two mosques by a gunman in Christchurch, New Zealand, and the tornado that ravaged Alabama earlier this month, leaving twenty-three dead in its path.) And like the crowd in today’s gospel, their questions are our questions. Why? Why God? Why do bad things happen to good people? Did these people deserve to die? Was it God’s will that they did? Was it his punishment? Did they die because of their sinfulness? And Jesus emphatically says to them, and to us, “BY NO MEANS!”
The sad thing is, often times, even after 2,000 years of knowing better, we often still think that way. It’s easy to play the “Blame Game.” It’s easy to blame people’s fate and our own personal tragedies and misfortune, even illness, on one’s sinful behavior. And it’s easy to blame God for everything in life that baffles us, disturbs us, and for which we have no other explanation.
And for me, although my mind often likes to connect a cause with an effect, Jesus response is good news that gives me a sense of peace and consolation. Because what Jesus is saying is, we don’t have a vengeful, spiteful God. He doesn’t punish us with tragedy, calamity, misfortune, bad luck or disease. We don’t have a “Gotcha God,” one who lurks in the shadows and behind the corners ready to punish us at our smallest indiscretion. God just doesn’t work that way. It’s not who he is. We are, however, vulnerable to human nature, to the poor, sometimes evil, sometimes even horrific decisions of other people. And we’re also vulnerable to the forces of nature, forces that can bring about both atmospheric calamities and disease. Our faith is not a suit of armor that renders us impervious us from these things, but it can be a shield to help us remain strong in the face of them.
So from the empathetic sadness that I was feeling for the Jews who had to come to grips with the tragedies mentioned in the gospel, to the feeling of consolation I felt that God does not rain misfortune on me for my sinfulness, Jesus then seems to pull the rug from in under me. He says, “But I tell you, if you do not repent, you will all perish as they did!” Just as I was feeling safe and secure, Jesus reminds me that God is just and that he does punish, in the afterlife. And I know that, of course, but it’s certainly something that most of us would like to forget - that what we do does have consequences . . . eternal consequences. That we aren’t blameless. And that we need to repent or our fate will be worse than those who lost their lives in the tragedies in Israel. If we don’t repent, we will not share in the eternal life of heaven, but in the eternal “death” of hell. Sadly, many in our society today, don’t believe that. They believe in a God who is so loving, so merciful, that no matter what they do, in the end, God will forgive them. They forget that God is also just. And that we get what we deserve. Very sobering, isn’t it?
But from there, Jesus tells us the Parable of the Fig Tree that doesn’t bear fruit. The owner of the tree is ready to cut it down, but the gardener pleads with him to give the tree one more chance, to let him prune it, to cut away what is dead, to fertilize it, and see what that attention and care might yield.
And so, yes, Jesus says that if we don’t repent, we will all perish, but through the parable, he reassures us that God is a God of second chances. And maybe even third, fourth and fifth chances. He wills that we live. He wills that we bear fruit. And he will do everything possible, even move heaven and earth, to get us to do that. When we feel most lifeless and hopeless and worthless, the Gardener isn’t going to leave or forsake us or send us to the fires. Rather, he is entering into our lifelessness, hopelessness and worthlessness with compassion and love.
As with many of Jesus’ parables, we don’t get to hear the end of the story. We don’t because the end of the story is still to be written. Many of Jesus’ parables are meant to be mirrors for us to look at and see ourselves. Are we the fig tree that responds to the care and attention of Jesus the gardener? Or despite his efforts, do we still bear no fruit? If so, we shouldn’t be surprised at out fate. We ourselves write the conclusion of the parable of our lives. We’ve been forewarned.
Lent offers the time to develop the habit of repentance in daily life. Lent is the time of aerating the soil and adding humble manure, of pruning away what is lifeless with us. Lent is a time of taking care of things, while being taken care of. Those sacrifices you decided to make at the beginning of Lent – how are they going? The promises you made to pray more, read Scripture more, attend mass more frequently, go to the Stations of the Cross, be more charitable, be more patient – how’s that going? The Sacrament of Reconciliation – been there yet? Today’s the Third Sunday of Lent. Four more weeks until Easter. Let’s use that time to fill, not Easter baskets with colored eggs and jelly beans, but instead, baskets that bear good, ripe fruit – beautiful to the eye, delicious to the palette of God.
