"Finishing the Parable" | 3rd Sunday in Lent | Year C | February 28th, 2016
/Luke 13:6-9
Then he told this parable: ‘A man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard; and he came looking for fruit on it and found none. So he said to the gardener, “See here! For three years I have come looking for fruit on this fig tree, and still I find none. Cut it down! Why should it be wasting the soil?” He replied, “Sir, let it alone for one more year, until I dig round it and put manure on it. If it bears fruit next year, well and good; but if not, you can cut it down.” ’
The following sermon was given at Grace Covenant Presbyterian Church in Overland Park, Kansas outside of Kansas City.
Grace and peace to you all and greetings from Shelter Island Presbyterian Church, the congregation that I minister to and with on the east end of Long Island, New York. It is such an honor to be here with you today! As a friend of the Bures family, I feel like I’ve known you all for a long time even though this is only my first time in the state of Kansas. I’ve had a delightful journey these past few days spending time with dear friends, going to a Jayhawks basketball game at Phog Allen Fieldhouse, and being introduced to the culinary awesomeness known as Bryant’s Burnt Ends! Thank you all for your generosity and your warm welcome to me and my wife, Tricia!
As I understand it, you all are in a significant period of transition. In the past couple years, you have said goodbye to several pastors and staff members and embarked in a wilderness of your own. Wildernesses can be scary times but they can also be journeys of tremendous self-discovery. The good news is this: you all, as a congregation in transition, are in good company because the Bible is filled to the brim with people in transition. In fact, the Bible can be thought of as a collection of wilderness stories - a narrative of people in transition.
The season of Lent is nothing more than a time of transition. As a congregation in transition, it is my prayer that this season of Lent will be a time of discovery in which you come to understand who and what God is calling you to be and do as you look forward to the interim pastor God has called you to minister with. Make no mistake, you all are in a wilderness and it is important that you know that you are not called into the wilderness to die but to discover the life God is calling you to live!
Today’s passage comes to us from the Revised Common Lectionary and is a story of a lonely fig tree, barren and fruitless.
Then he told this parable: ‘A man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard; and he came looking for fruit on it and found none. So he said to the gardener, “See here! For three years I have come looking for fruit on this fig tree, and still I find none. Cut it down! Why should it be wasting the soil?” He replied, “Sir, let it alone for one more year, until I dig round it and put manure on it. If it bears fruit next year, well and good; but if not, you can cut it down.” ’
Let us pray: Lord, may the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be acceptable and pleasing in your sight, O Lord, our Rock and our Redeemer. Amen.
The fig tree stood so bare. It had been a long three years of trial and tribulation, drought and famine. Some leaves had sprung up but no figs were to be seen. Three years of wilderness, three years of hope that seemed to have led nowhere. Its fruitlessness was not because of any lack of effort. A loving gardener had does his best to tend to the plant, to water it, to clear it of weeds, to care for it in the best way he knew. But sometimes, it’s just not good enough. Powers beyond his control kept the fig tree bare. It was a heartbreaking situation; no one likes to see fruitlessness. No one.
This fig tree had two cousins. One appeared in the Gospel of Mark. This other fig tree had sad tidings. Apparently, Jesus came along and was rather hungry and was mad because this fig tree also didn’t have any fruit to share. Jesus apparently didn’t care that it wasn’t even the season for figs and he cursed the tree, proclaiming that no one should ever eat from it again.
Today’s fig tree had another cousin. This one appeared in the Gospel of Matthew. Likewise, Jesus had come along and was hungry and it was the season for figs but this fig tree didn’t have any fruit to satisfy Jesus’ cravings. Like he did with the fig tree’s other cousin, Jesus cursed it and its leaves withered right there on the spot.
But this fig tree, the fig tree we are told about today, was in neither Mark’s nor Matthew’s Gospel. This fig tree comes to us from Luke’s Gospel and, as such, graces us with a different perspective: a parable.
A parable is a painting of the kingdom of heaven, something that teases our eyes to broaden our gaze and place ourselves within its narrative. Its characters are us. Its characters are God. Parables are fluid and imaginative, complex and simple, particular and yet elusive.
Instead of Jesus encountering the fig tree, today’s fig tree has two companions, the owner of the land on which the fig tree is planted and the gardener in charge of tending to it. After three long years, the owner of the vineyard has had enough. “Cut it down!” he says. “Make room for something else that will grow!”
But the difference between this fig tree and the others in Mark and Matthew’s account is that this tree in Luke’s account has a good defense attorney. Defending the fig tree, the gardner pleas, “give me one more year to care for it and then we’ll see where we are.”
And thus is the end of the parable. Or its beginning, to be more accurate. Unlike the rather depressing accounts of fig trees in the other gospels, Luke’s account has an open ending that is neither overtly positive or negative. We simply have a barren fig tree and another year to see what happens to it.
Today’s parable reminds me that waxing and waning periods of fruitfulness and barrenness come in many forms. They are a reality of the human condition. Sometimes we feel like a fruitful fig tree, planted on firm, nutritious ground and bearing delicious fruits for all to eat. The marriage has just been blessed. The child has just been born. The test has just been aced. The college acceptance letter just came in. The long-awaited job promotion finally came to fruition. The church is clicking and the congregation feels in-sync and vibrant.
Other times we feel like the barren fig tree in today’s parable. The marriage doesn’t seem to have the life it once had. The child has just moved out of the house. The mid-terms are draining and stressful. The job opportunities are just not happening. Sobriety is proving to be harder than you thought. The depression is again rearing its ugly head. The congregation is in a place of anxiety and transition.
Both fruitfulness and barrenness are realities of the human condition and today’s open-ended parable leaves us room for both. Maybe the fig tree does well after another year and its fruits delight the senses and it lives a long and happy life. Then again, maybe the fig tree continues in another year of fruitlessness and ends up getting uprooted to make way for another plant to thrive. Curiously enough, both possibilities, both fruitfulness and barrenness, make way for renewed life, either in the form of the old fig tree or a new plant.
Together, today, you and I are called to finish this parable; to imagine our own ending during this season of Lent.
Perhaps the gardener spends his extra year trying and trying the same old thing, using the same type of watering routine, the same type of fertilizer, the same type of weeding schedule, but nothing works. He puts resources and resources and more resources to try to save this plant but nothing seems to do the trick. No matter the love and care and passion that went in to its caring, the fig tree just refuses to bear fruit. After a final year of waiting, the owner comes by and insists that the fig tree be ripped up to make room for something that will be fruitful. It was not the necessarily the fig tree’s fault. It was not necessarily the gardener’s fault. Sometimes fruitfulness has run its course and it’s time for a different kind of fruitfulness. After the barren fig tree is pulled up, another type of plant takes root and has much more success in the same ground.
This imaginative version of the parable reminds me that some fig trees are meant to die. After all, death is a part of life. Lent teaches us this. Fruitfulness and barrenness is part of the inevitable ebb and flow of faith. Relationships are created and some last a lifetime and others come to their natural ends. Passions and hobbies that once were obsessed over become stale and make way for new adventures. Our lives are wondrous journeys of self-discovery in which finding out something new about ourselves sometimes means letting go of another identity that we clung to for so long. Change happens. Change means accepting a new kind of life, even if the way to that new life means a death of something else. The cross and the empty tomb remind us of this timeless truth during this season of Lent.
I wonder, what are the fig trees in your life that have run their course and need to be uprooted in order to make room for another kind of fruitfulness? We all long for fruitfulness but we often fear the process of uprooting that makes room for it. Perhaps the gardener, in this scenario, was just not ready to let go. Sometimes, we, both as individuals and as congregations, just don’t want to let go. Perhaps we don’t want to let go of the way we’ve always done things. Perhaps we don’t want to let go of that beloved staff member. Perhaps we don’t want to let go of that ministry that has run its course. Perhaps we don’t want to let go of the hymn that we grew up with. Perhaps we don’t want to let go of the identity of the church we were 30 years ago. Whatever that thing is, sometimes there are fig trees that need to be let go. But often we don’t want to let them go because we’re scared that it will change who we are. However, perhaps this scenario comforts us by reminding us that though the gardner no longer planted a fig tree, he was nevertheless still a gardener; he was simply gardening something else more fruitful. Being a disciple is no different: sometimes we are called to be disciples in different ways at different times because of this lovely, challenging, and powerful person known as the Holy Spirit.
However, the other scenario of this parable is that the gardener tries some new things in the extra year that he has been afforded to return the fig tree to fruitfulness. He changes his watering routine. He removes weeds with more regularity. He tries a different type of manure. He changes his approach and, with a blessing of the Holy Spirit and a lot of love and passion - lo and behold! - the fig tree springs back to life!
This imaginative version of the parable reminds me that, ultimately, fruitfulness has been promised to us. Now, new fruitfulness may or may not look or feel or taste like the old fruitfulness did. Change, after all, is relentless. But fruitfulness can be a surprising reality when barrenness seems to be the order of the day.
This scenario invites us to ponder the places in our lives that we thought were dead that, after time and trust, were resurrected into newness. When was that moment that the relationship was rekindled? When was that time when that old hobby was found all over again? When was it that that ministry took a life of its own and began preaching the Gospel in new and inventive ways?
Fruitfulness will come! That is ultimate message of Lent. That is why this parable is so crucial: No matter how you and I might choose to finish today’s parable, the inevitable outcome is fruitfulness in one form or another. That is the good news of the Gospel: fruitfulness will always come to fruition through the grace of God!
Just a few minutes ago, you all were informed that an Interim Pastor has been selected for you all and will be joining you in a few short months! Together, you all are heading into unchartered territory where, together, you all will seek the fruitfulness of the Spirit! God has some amazing plans for you all and, with your new transitional pastor, you will continue to discover who God is calling you to be. Now, we must remember, as the fig tree parable reminds us, death and resurrection are on the horizon! This transitional time in the life of this congregation will be a time that some things may need to die in order that other things can be brought to life.
My prayer is that this parable might give you all the vocabulary to imagine what God has in store for you as a congregation in transition, as a congregation on the move. May you be attentive to the things among you that God is calling you to plant. May you be equally attentive to the things among you that God might be calling you to uproot. In both your lives as a congregation and in your lives as individuals, my prayer is that we might all take courage that this Lenten journey takes us to a barren fig tree, a parable that leaves room for hope in places where hope might feel in short supply.
So friends, hear the Good News of the Gospel: today’s parable is not finished. It is YOUR job to finish it! And know that you do not do so alone, but that you do so nurtured and protected by Jesus Christ, the true vine, whom we follow to the barrenness of the cross that we might rejoice in the fruitfulness of the empty tomb!
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.