A tree full
of figs, branches heavy with pomegranates, an abundance of corn and new wine -
all this fruitfulness was surely a sign of God’s favor. And so, the logic was,
it’s opposite - barrenness - clearly indicated God’s disfavor. And so, the
frustrated orchard owner not finding any ripe figs says, “Dig up the fruitless
tree. It’s useless.” Jesus the Gardener, our
Advocate with the Father, says, “Wait. Give me some time; let me give it a bit
of extra care.” Jesus sees opportunity for
his graced intervention.
And if the
fig tree was by tradition Israel itself, it is as well all of us and each of us
- stuck and sinful and seemingly unfruitful. And when the Gardener asks for
just a single year to do his work, Jesus is pointing to the urgency of
repentance and a change of heart. “Now is the acceptable time. Now is the day
of salvation.” As if to say, there is still time, but there’s no time to lose.* Jesus
never gives up on us. He is the God of second chances, he understands. But he
waits, awaits our turning back to his grace.
As God will
tell Moses, “I have witnessed the affliction of my people. I have heard
their cry; and I know well what they are suffering. Therefore, I have come down
to rescue them.” This is not a God of whim and caprice who distractedly
allows towers to fall on sinful people but a God of mercy who in Christ Jesus
has come down to join us in the rubble of our sinfulness, here amidst the
debris of our mistakes and failures.
After the
devastating earthquake in Turkey in 1988, a mother and her infant son were
trapped for days in the rubble of their apartment building. The trauma, the days
of tension and near airlessness caused her breastmilk to dry up. Frantic as her
baby grew more and more listless and whimpered faintly, a thought came to her.
She pierced her finger, pressed it and put it in the child’s mouth. The baby
nursed contentedly on her bleeding fingertip. Not long after she saw light
peeping through the debris, she shouted, and rescuers discovered her and the
baby. Both survived.
How like
Our Lord Jesus was this nursing mother, nurturing us with his own blood, God’s
own blood, a torrent of compassion from his wounded heart, from his hands and
feet. So, he shows us in his own body that loving to the end is the way to life
and fruitfulness and true repentance. My sisters and brothers, we are Jesus’
wounded body. We are invited to let our hearts to be stretched and torn open in
love; it may often feel that we like him are dying in the process. But it’s
worth it.
