“Give it one more
year… and then, if nothing changes, cut it down!”
Jesus’ parables are rich and
evocative. They remain timeless because
they invite contemplation and conversation while avoiding simplistic and trite
interpretations. One popular way to
approach these stories is to ask which of its characters do you identify with
most. Today’s parable offers a plethora
of possibilities.
Perhaps you identify with the owner. He charted a course, engaged in risk, planted
a vineyard, employed a laborer, and expected a return. But now, at this point in the story, he is
angry and frustrated and finished. He
wants to eliminate any and every reminder of his fruitless endeavor. In his estimation it is time to move on.
Or maybe you see yourself in the gardener. You are measured, hopeful, and optimistic. You believe in the potential inside every
person, thing, and moment. You also believe
in yourself and your ability to nurture the best qualities in people and
situations. You often find yourself
interceding on behalf of others, attempting to be a calm head in a chaotic
world. The flip side of this coin is not
nearly as positive. Maybe you feel it is
your responsibility to fix every unfixable problem.
Or perhaps you identify most with the fig
tree. You believe you are not worth much
in this world and, try as you might, have little of value to contribute. You sense you are a disappointment,
especially to those who have invested most in you. They let you know in subtle and not so subtle
ways you are wasting away your life.
Maybe you identify with the yet-to-appear
fruit. You are just waiting for your
opportunity to shine. As of today, the
stars have not lined up for you, but when they do… look out world because you
have a lot to offer. If only someone will
believe and you give you a chance…
In which of these figures in the parable do
you most see yourself? Or, if you really
want something to mull over, in what ways do you see yourself in each of them?
While Jesus’ parables speak in multiple
ways to many different situations, biblical scholars remind us each one as a
single focused meaning. Jesus’ main
point in this one seems to be time is running out and each of us needs to get
our act together… and do it soon! We
Episcopalians don’t warm up to sermons on impending judgment and the urgent
need to repent. We do not want to be
compared to the barren fig tree, but this is exactly what Jesus does. And whether we like it or not, as I often
say, its Jesus’ story so he gets to tell it any way he wants.
And to make matters worse, he tells this
story in response to a question about tragedy.
Someone asks him about a group of people executed on Pilate’s orders
while they were worshipping. Jesus’
response: “Do you think this happened to them because they were worse sinners
than you? They weren’t… and unless you
repent the same thing will happen to you.”
It seems a rather harsh thing to say, and yet Jesus doubles down on it
by mentioning eighteen people who died when a tower collapsed on them. Surely Jesus is not saying victims of
calamities get what they deserve, is he?
At least on the surface it sure seems like it.
Here is another question to ask of a
parable: where is grace found in it? In
the midst of all the judgment in today’s story – the owner’s anger, the
fruitlessness, the call for punishment – where is the grace? It is found in the phrase “give the tree one
more year”. Grace is found in the
element of time. The tree still has time
to change.
Time’s precious nature is a theme found
throughout Scripture, especially in the Psalms, which compare the length of our
days to the grass that flourishes in the morning dew, but withers in the
afternoon sun. For people of faith this
reality is not cause for despair, but rather a call to intentional living. “So teach us to number our days,” writes the
poet of the 90th Psalm, “that we may apply our hearts to wisdom.” Scripture connects an awareness of mortality
with a purposeful life.
I read once middle age is not a
chronological point in life. It is not
something you experience precisely during, say, your 42nd orbit
around the sun. Rather, it is a feature
of attitude and awareness. When we are
young we sense the path of life is wide open to us. You may set out on a particular career choice
in your 20s only to discover it does not interest you. You may try out several different options in
your youth because you can always pull the plug on one thing and start
another.
We arrive at the phenomena of middle age
when we realize we can no longer hit the reset button – at least without
significant consequences. Middle age is
that point in life when you realize you have made your choices and now you have
to live with them. It is too late to do
it all over. It is the first time in our
lives when time reveals itself to us as limited. No wonder so many act out against this
initial sense of limitation by engaging in what we call a mid-life crisis.
The crisis ends with the wise realization
the choices we have made are good ones and we begin to see what we have is
pretty special and satisfying. We become
aware of how the time we have put into our our work and our relationships and
our passions has been an investment.
Even though it is too late to take a different path, the dividends of
the choices and commitments we have made are beginning to pay off.
I am embracing the reality I am now in my late-middle
age. I will turn 60 this fall. Most likely I am at the 2/3rds to
3/4ths pole of life. As I
mentioned to the Vestry at our retreat, I will be retiring sometime in the next
7-10 years. I describe this reality as
being like the mileage signs on a highway.
Once you drive to Chicago, the sign tells you are 12 miles from Walla
Walla and 400 from Minneapolis. Yes, I
still have a lot more to do in my career, but for the first time the next major
destination 400 miles down the road is retirement.
I am finding being in my late-middle years
to be quite invigorating. For the first
time in my life I sense how precious time is, but I don’t fret it is running
out. When we are young we say to
ourselves, “I’ll get around to that someday”, imagining our life to be an
undiminishing supply of somedays. Now, I
sense the need to count up my somedays and do something with them. And, you know something, far from being
depressing, it is tremendously empowering.
So, for example, I have really enjoyed the
various pilgrimages I have been on over the last few summers – hiking, biking,
and touring. If I am lucky I may have
another 15 summers where I can continue to do this. So I think to myself, what are the 15 things
I most want to do with my time? I can
tell you this is a question I never asked in my 20s. In this, and in so many other ways, knowing I
don’t have forever has opened uncountable doors to opportunities and
possibilities. I can’t do it all, but I
am more likely to be intentional and aggressive about choosing and doing
something.
Well, today’s parable of the Barren Fig
Tree reminds us time is precious with the hopeful caveat, baring unforeseen
circumstances, there is still time. We
each have the time to turn things around, to tend to matters needing our
attention, to get up, get going, and get after those dreams we have not yet
pursued. Perhaps it is too late to chase
them all, but now is the time to prioritize and to act.
And there is one more element of grace
found in Jesus’ story – manure. While we
don’t usually think of the s _ _ t in our lives as being a blessing, in Jesus’
parable it represents all the ways life lines up to help us. Our quest to be fruitful is never undertaken
in isolation. We are surrounded by those
who love and care for us; whose assistance and encouragement means more than we
often realize. And we stand in the
presence of the One who created us; whose Spirit works in and through all
things to bring forth in us what we struggle to achieve on our own.
Earlier in the week I revisited one of my
favorite websites – deathclock.com. You
simply tell it the date of your birth, your gender, outlook on life, height,
weight, and whether or not you are a smoker and it will tell you the day of
your death. Apparently my heavenly
reward/final judgment with come on Saturday, August 12, 2056. It may also become my saint’s day because, as
a friend of mine once pointed out optimistically, if the Episcopal Church
decides to make you a saint, it always assigns your remembrance to the day you
die. Well, I don’t know if I have
produced enough fruit to merit such recognition and I don’t know how I feel
about the possibility of living to 97.
According to a countdown clock on the
website, as of last Friday at 3:42 in the afternoon, I had 1,179,910,387 seconds
left in my life. I laughed out loud as I
watched the seconds tick down… 386, 385, 384 it occurred to me no matter how
much time any of has left, each one of you has invested about 1,000 seconds of your
precious time listening attentively to my sermon. I pray the seconds you have left are many and
I pray you will consider how you and God would like you to use them.
Time is precious. What do you need to do with this day? What do you need to do with this week? What is the most redeeming thing you can do
before the end of this month? What is
God calling you to do before the end of the year? In the next few years?
Lord,
teach us to number our days
that we may apply
our hearts to wisdom.
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