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Reframing the Fig Tree

“Reframing the Fig Tree”
The Rev. Dr. Fred G. Garry

Matthew 21.18-22

In the morning, when he returned to the city, he was hungry. And seeing a fig tree by the side of the road, he went to it and found nothing at all on it but leaves. Then he said to it, “May no fruit ever come from you again!” And the fig tree withered at once. When the disciples saw it, they were amazed, saying, “How did the fig tree wither at once?” Jesus answered them, “Truly I tell you, if you have faith and do not doubt, not only will you do what has been done to the fig tree, but even if you say to this mountain, ‘Be lifted up and thrown into the sea,’ it will be done. Whatever you ask for in prayer with faith, you will receive.”        

 

I didn’t really get Rev. Bair when she arrived.  Obviously, she is bright and kind and that she stepped into the mess that was last October suggests she is a courageous person, but there was something . . . something I just could not name.  There was a bit of Scoobie Doo Mystery here.

My first clue to the mystery was when she showed me an organizational chart and a timeline for cashflow that she and a group of peers had put together as part of a training event.  Walking me through it I could see how much the structure and the clarity appealed to her. 

But the real clue came a bit later in the year.  The general assembly was nearing and she was going to attend as part of the organizing staff.  As she spoke of the tasks and duties young adult volunteers would offer under her direction, it was as if a light bulb went on.  Ashley Bair is a nerd.

Polity, procedure, the making of motions, these were objects of joy to her.  I could tell she was a person for whom the very idea of a minority report and how it would be presented at the General Assembly and what actions could be taken, I could tell this was thrilling to her.  And if it is, if this is really exciting to you, then you are a policy wonk, a Robert’s Rule nerd.

No stones to cast here.  I love Robert’s Rules, big fan.  I like planning and learned to value policy, but this never thrilled me.  I learned to trust policy, work the policy, be mindful that hard lessons lurk behind every policy, but never do I look at a policy manual and say, “now we are talking.” 

All of sudden, Rev. Bair made a lot of sense.  How she came at things, what she saw as important, the intended consequence of actions: all of these appeared in a new frame.  She’s a policy nerd. 

Moments where you see things differently, where there is an illumination or an epiphany is when things are reframed.  Same person, same church, same community, but suddenly you see things in a different way.

In our reading today, the cursing of the fig tree, we have such a moment.  It is as if the gospel is being recast, reframed.  Jesus is the same; the teachings are not new.  This is still the prophet from Galilee who heals the broken and feeds the hungry.  He still teaches in parables and the Pharisees persist in finding him a threat.  Everything is business as usual except everything is about to change.  What is down will become up.  Time flowing like an endless sea will become poignant and dangerous.  The scene of verdant valleys and the lakeshore will be replaced with frantic, edgy streets and midnight gardens beside tombs.

Not the midnight garden tombs, perhaps, but this happens to us.  We move from day to day, month to month, year to year, and then our life changes.  Sometimes the changes are wonderful and inspiring: a child is born, a career begins.  You find yourself in a new world and its good.  Life is reframed for the better.  And sometimes this is not good.  The kids leave and the house is too empty; our health flees, and a flight of stairs appears like a mountain.  Life is reframed for the worse.

It’s hard to tell at first glance if the cursing of the fig tree, the reframing of the gospel, is a good thing or a bad thing.  Change is not always clearly good or bad.  We are not sure what to make of change and we say things like, we need to see how this plays out, or we need to let the dust settle.  We have a new frame, but the window is a bit opaque.

That Jesus curses the fig tree might tempt us to see this as a change for the worse.  It certainly wasn’t a good day for the fig tree.  Scholars all point out the lack of fairness, the injustice of Jesus’ curse.  If you have kept fruit trees, like apple trees, you know there is a time for the tree to bear fruit and there are times it does not.  You can’t go to a fruit tree here in March or early April and expect a harvest, which is what Jesus curses. 

This is a strange move on Jesus’ part.  And we should pause here, stop and wonder, what does this mean, this cursing of the fig tree? In literature this kind of strange development is used to bring the reader to a halt.  A poet or a novelist will use the absurd, the odd, the unexpected to cause the reader to pause.  And we should pause with the fig tree and say, “what in the world is happening here?” 

Jesus is always talking about crops and seeds, fields and vineyards, farmers and workers, the wheat, the tares, the mustard seed become tree.  So, it is not strange that he uses a fig tree as a teaching moment.  But up to this point agriculture was a good thing.  The kingdom of God is like a tree, a harvest, a loamy field.  Jesus makes the kingdom of God very earthy, from the dirt. By using the predictability and everyday presence of tending a crop, we are given the impression that following Jesus is not a strange mystery.  Being faithful is a humble path of mercy and justice lived out in the small everyday events of life. And then, he curses the fig tree.

It could be that Jesus was just having a bad day.  His disciples were often dullards; the Pharisees were a drag; and, maybe, he was just fed up with the pettiness and strife of life. “Take that fig tree!” If Jesus was fully human, then a bad day is more than possible. Fig tree was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.  If that is the case though then there is no real reframing.  This would be a trivial event. 

I believe the fig tree is a big moment. Not in itself.  It’s one tree.  Yet, the cursing of the fig tree is big if this is the moment in the gospel where we shift from the frame of the predictable, to the frame of the unpredictable.  The city was not undone by one less fig tree, but the city will never be the same in just a few days.  And the change won’t be fair or a natural unfolding of life like crops and rain.  Where following Jesus in Galilee was walking a humble path, following Jesus in Jerusalem is different. This is a change.  Now there will be a leap, a dangerous leap.

Again, sometimes reframing is pleasant; sometimes it is not.  Given the crucifixion of Jesus is a matter of days away in our reading, it could be argued that the cursing of the fig tree points to the unpleasant.  Change, profound change, is tough.  Whether we know it or not we expend a lot of energy trying to avoid profound change.  Too much effort, too much energy, too much risk.

I heard a great story about a pastor and a church who were struggling with this.  The church was stuck.  They were doing all the right things; they were doing what they always did, but they were becoming less and less.  As folks do, they hired a consultant.  The consultant was meeting with the pastor one more morning when the pastor became really upset.  He had a copy of the local paper and in the paper, there was a story announcing a very large gift to the local college.  What got the pastor mad was the donor to the college was a long-time member of the church.

Why did he give this to the college?  He is not an alum.  He knows we could use such a gift.  Why the college and not his church?  And then the consultant earned his keep.  He said, “Let’s ask him.”

The consultant and the pastor went that day and met with the member and asked, “why the college? Why not the church?”  “Well, first, they asked me.  And you did not.  And second, they had a plan and a vision and direction.  I don’t believe you have one.” 

That was a tough day for the pastor.  The consultant who told this story said, the pastor was yet again angry and offended and left.  He said, “I stayed and asked more questions.” What he learned was a great example of reframing.  The member/donor said the pastor just wants the same or more of the same.  And sometimes that is enough.  But he would have taken a large gift and done what?  He doesn’t know. 

What the consultant saw clearly in the reframing of the donor was this: if you want to grow, if you want to become something new, you need to take risk, put the ideas and dreams out there for people to see and hear.  Be willing to leap with no guarantee of success. That is what the college was doing. Hence the donation.  Wanting more, but not knowing what more is, will not lead to great things.

It could be the fig tree is just a bad day.  Or it could be the fig tree is a sign of bad things to come.  Or it could be the message of the gospel is being reframed just like the donor reframed the question of generosity with risk and planning and vision. 

The cursed fig tree who had no fruit as it was not the right season, right time, is a great image of how change and demands and the threats of life don’t come at the right time, don’t play by the rules.  It is not fair that the fig tree had no fruit.  But consider the times in your life where there was profound challenge, hardship, risk.  Fairness is not the right frame.  How life tends to go, this common frame we rely so heavily upon, this frame doesn’t help when it comes to betrayal or tragedy.  Fairness and unfortunate circumstance don’t go together.

This is true of hard times, but what if it is true of great times as well?  Up to this point, Jesus has made clear that we find the kingdom of God by taking the humble path.  And this is true.  This is how we should look at life for the most part.  But what if this is not the only way, not the only frame?  What if risk and vision and courage and the daring leap are also a way to see the kingdom of God?         

The fig tree is the moment of change.  Jesus reframes the gospel; he changes the course.  And we have to trust him.  Humility does not become bad.  It’s just not what is called for in Jerusalem.  It is as if he said, humility will guide you on the path, but sometimes you must leap beyond.  Sometimes you must leave the path.

Most of life is mundane.  We eat, we drink, we sleep.  We work, we rest, we rise again.  Birthdays become boring; anniversaries are forgotten. We live life as a well-worn path, a groove, a cog and wheel turning on time.  And this is good.  To see a generation come and go and another do the same: what a blessing it is to be a great grandparent without tragedy.

Jesus says, but life is also a fig tree not in season cursed when found without fruit. When you find yourself here, then you must take courage, be brave, fight, and be willing to leap beyond what you know and trust something greater.   

Trusting humility is a lot of what it means to have faith in Jesus.  As we enter the last part of the gospel, we will be challenged to also find faith in courage, to be brave.  The question is: do we trust courage?  Amen.

Speaker: Rev. Dr. Fred G. Garry

November 6, 2022
Matthew 21:18-22

Rev. Dr. Fred G. Garry

Senior Pastor & Head of Staff

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