God is mysterious but not malicious

Luke 13:1–9

At that time some people who were present there told him about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with the blood of their sacrifices.

He said to them in reply, “Do you think that because these Galileans suffered in this way they were greater sinners than all other Galileans? By no means! But I tell you, if you do not repent, you will all perish as they did!

Or those eighteen people who were killed when the tower at Siloam fell on them—do you think they were more guilty than everyone else who lived in Jerusalem? By no means! But I tell you, if you do not repent, you will all perish as they did!”

And he told them this parable: “There once was a person who had a fig tree planted in his orchard, and when he came in search of fruit on it but found none, he said to the gardener, ‘For three years now I have come in search of fruit on this fig tree but have found none. [So] cut it down. Why should it exhaust the soil?’

He said to him in reply, ‘Sir, leave it for this year also, and I shall cultivate the ground around it and fertilize it; it may bear fruit in the future. If not you can cut it down.’”

Note:

In verse 3, we have the word repent, which in Greek is Metanoia. Meta means change in Greek, and noos is the word for mind (which could mean attitude, opinion, outlook, and maybe even your way of life).

So repentance is not about apologies, about feeling guilty and sorry; it is about a dramatic change in our orientation, our attitude. That is the kind of repentance Lent is all about, and it culminates in baptism for those who wish to change their stance toward God forever. This is why this is such a good reading for Lent. It is God’s mercy and graciousness that gives us the time and space to change for the better and produce good for the Kingdom. An awareness of this graciousness of God may help us find the patience and the kindness toward others and refrain from judgement of them as well.

Read another reflection on transformation (metanoia) as the real meaning of Lent >>

Music Meditations

I Heard the Voice of Jesus say—Michael Card/Blarney Pilgrim (an Irish version in honor of St. Patrick’s Day)
Amazing Grace—either the usual version or a traditional one sung by BYU Women’s Choir
Open My Eyes, Lord
God Hears the Cry of the Poor
I Will Lift up My Eyes

Opening Prayer

Jesus, thank you for not giving up on us, for not giving up on me. Help me to see your compassion and your invitation to growth. Give me the resolve, the courage, and the energy to make my life fruitful for your Kingdom. Help me to realize that I sometimes have been a parasite, and give me a second chance.

Help me, Jesus, not to be judging of others whose choices are ones I cannot approve of. Help me to extend second and third chances to those who have hurt or disappointment me, while guarding my own physical and mental well-being. Help me to realize that those choices are theirs and not mine to make, and be patient while they learn.

Help me, Jesus, to be kind.

Companions for the Journey

This is a short writing from one of the Christian or non-Christian witnesses of our tradition—a person who embodies the theme of the gospel we are studying today.

This is from “First Impressions”, a service of the Southern Dominican Province, in 2007:

Imagine if there were modern forms of communication in Jesus’ day—radio, television and the internet. Judging from today’s gospel, there would be two items at “the top of the news hour.” People would also be calling friends and relatives, “Have you heard what happened?” Others would write email and text messages about the recent sad events. Upon hearing the tragic news people would say what we all tend to say at such times, “Oh, what a shame! How terrible! Oh, my gosh!”

What would the current news have been that would have stirred such responses? Judging from the beginning of today’s gospel there were two items on everyone’s tongues. While they didn’t have our modern forms of communication, Jesus’ contemporaries knew what had happened and they shared the news with Jesus. Bad news travels fast in any age. People told Jesus about the tyrant Pilate’s slaughter of Galileans who went to Jerusalem to offer sacrifice in the Temple. Apparently Pilate compounded the brutality by mingling their blood with the blood of their sacrifices. One can only imagine the details of what happened and the sense of outrage, impotency and humiliation the Jewish people would have felt about the murders that were compounded by sacrilege. Unfortunately, people then and now were accustomed to the harsh excesses of oppressors. At least Jesus’ contemporaries had a specific human to blame for this first piece of bad news.

Jesus mentions a second tragic event that his listeners also knew about; a tower in Siloam had collapsed and 18 people were killed. While the first item of bad news could be blamed on human malice; what would the people have thought about the second? In Jesus’ time they would have deduced that God was punishing sinners. It is not unlike what people say these days when tragedy strikes, “What did I do that God is punishing me so?” Jesus dispels this kind of thinking when he asks if his hearers thought the slaughtered Galileans were “greater sinners than all other Galileans.” Or, that the 18 Siloam victims, “were more guilty than everyone else who lived in Jerusalem.” Tragedy didn’t happen to those people because they deserved punishment for their sin. To credit their deaths to their guilt lets others off the hook and leads to fallacious thinking. “I must be doing fine in God’s eyes since my life is so good.” People who are prosperous or healthy say they are “blessed.”

It is good to appreciate and be thankful for our lives; but today’s gospel suggests a caution. Our prosperity and well-being have nothing to do with our virtue, nor is it a reward for goodness. Jesus brushes aside such presumptuous conclusions and challenges his hearers to examine their lives and make changes where necessary. Bad things happen and we cannot put off changes we should be making, for we may not have the time we think we have. Life isn’t predictable and we can’t let our routines and regular daily patterns lull us into complacency. It may be later than we think. Each day is a special gift, but we have no certitude about what the day will bring. Life doesn’t come with guarantees. The real gift of God, Jesus says, isn’t our prosperity or that everything is going to go smoothly for us. Rather, God gifts us with mercy and time to change. To emphasize this point Jesus tells the parable of the fig tree. In the bible the fig tree often represents Israel (e.g. Jeremiah 24: 1-10). Fig trees required a lot of tending—like the care Israel required and received from God. It took three years for a fig tree to bear fruit—quite an investment of time, money, work and patience! When the owner of the orchard told his gardener to cut down the fig tree, it made perfect horticultural sense since it hadn’t borne fruit in the expected three years. “So, cut it down. Why should it exhaust the soil.” The tree should have been replaced by a new one that would produce fruit in due time. But the gardener gets the owner to allow the tree another year. The fig tree is supposed to bear fruit to fulfill its purpose. A reprieve is given; but there is still a deadline.

What a grace time can be for us… to have space and time to grow, mature spiritually, reform our lives, serve the Lord and remove the obstacles, big and small, between God and us and between us and others. These are the gifts God offers us by giving us more time. Daily life may seem routine and a hectic grind, but if we open our eyes and reflect, we might see the gracious hand of God reaching out to us through friends and enemies; in the large and small breaks in the routine; in the quiet moments and even the frenetic rush; and in the surprises. God’s patience with us is extraordinary. Look at what we humans put Jesus through and still God didn’t give up on us; we are graced with time.

However, the parable isn’t open-ended. Time does run out, not just in the parable’s future, but in our lives—sometimes in unexpected and even tragic ways. When that happens we might find ourselves emotionally and spiritually unprepared. That’s not what God wants for us, hence Jesus’ parable offers tolerance and patience before judgment. It is a good parable for Lent and it isn’t so much a threat as it is a grace: the year’s extension for the fig tree is a grace, because it offers reprieve with time to become fruitful; the warning is also a grace, because it can shake us out of our torpor and stir us to do something.

And isn’t Lent a good time for such a response from us?

Weekly Memorization

Taken from the gospel for today’s session…

“But unless you repent, you too will all perish”
(Unless you change your mind, your ways, you too will all perish)

Living the Good News

What action can you take in the next week as a response to today’s reading and discussion?

Keep a private journal of your prayer/actions responses this week. Feel free to use the personal reflection questions or the meditations which follow:

Reflection Questions

Do I see human life as a gift?
Can bad things happen to good people?
Do I ever feel that if I am a good person, I should be rewarded by God with good luck?
Do I always want God (or my religion) to explain bad events in my life?
Have I ever equated tragedy with divine retribution?
Do I sometimes wonder if somehow people deserve their bad luck?
Do I blame people for certain illnesses they experience?
Do I think of mental illness as a true illness or just bad behavior someone could reform?
How do I tell the difference?
What, in terms of my relationship to God, do I build my life upon?
Is “wasting soil” a bad thing? What are some human examples of wasting soil?
Do I ever dismiss another as a “waste of space”?
If the fruit tree were a human, what would its expected “fruit” be? (repentance, finding a purpose in life, doing good for others, etc.)?
What “fruits” are expected of me?
What motivates me to be more like Jesus? (fear/hope/gratitude/mercy)
The fig tree got another year—a graced time in which to do what it was meant to do, produce fruit. Do I look at my time on earth as graced time?
What qualities do I need to cultivate in the time I have on earth to be more like Jesus?
What are the growth areas in my life?
Which have produced good fruit and which need to be cultivated further?
Do I realize that God, like the gardener, is constantly working with me to help me be the most fruitful disciple I can be. What has God done to support me, to encourage me, to prune me?
From John Harrington, S.J.: How do I relate to the justice and mercy of God in my own life?
I am called to “repent”, to turn my life around.
What do I need to change my attitude/mind about?
What behaviors do I need to change?
What is one way I can mirror the compassion and kindness of Jesus?

Meditations

A Meditation in the Augustinian Style/Relationship:

Adapted from Sacred Space, a service of the Irish Jesuits:

Jesus does not leave us unaided. As with the fig tree, He provides us with everything we need to bear fruit. There is an old story which describes Peter at the gates of heaven. The world has ended. The sheep have been separated from the goats; all the faithful have entered heaven and Peter is preparing to close the gates. Then he sees Jesus standing outside. ‘Master, he says, ‘what are you doing outside?’. Jesus replies: I’m waiting for Judas’.

Do I believe that Jesus waits for me too, beyond the end of time? Do I believe that Jesus understands that I must go to Him within my own time? Do I believe He created me in freedom, to live in the freedom He intended? Do I believe He will not force me to go in, but stands at the door and waits? Am I aware of his patience and his all-enveloping love? I speak to Him about where I am in my faith journey, in my life journey, trusting that he understands and cares.

A Meditation in the Dominican Style/Asking Questions:

I read Isaiah 55:8-9…

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the Lord. “As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.”

We live in a meritocracy. The world says: “Yes, I love you if you are good-looking, intelligent, and wealthy. I love you if you have a good education, a good job, good connections. I love you if you produce much, seek much, buy much. There are endless “ifs” hidden in the world’s love… The world’s love is and always will be, conditional. (Henri Nouwen)

How does this differ from God’s love?

We live in a world where prejudice is operative; people are dismissed or marginalized because of the color of their skin, their religious beliefs, their sexual orientation or their gender. Jesus hung out with prostitutes, tax collectors, Samaritans, a few Pharisees, sinners of all stripes. His closest friends were fairly dim about his teachings most of the time.

What does this tell us about Jesus’ value system?

There is a dirty little secret about a lot of religious people; they subscribe to a religious meritocracy. The unconscious scenario goes like this: If I follow the rules, am faithful in my prayers, and try very hard to live a life of goodness and charity, I kind of expect some sort of recognition from God as a result and am secretly, and sometimes not-so-secretly, outraged that my prayers aren’t answered, or when misfortune befalls me. My religiosity is supposed to be a sort of shield against misfortune or failure. Even the great Jesuit poet Gerard Manley Hopkins cried:

Thou are indeed, just, Lord, if I contend with thee; but, sir, so what I plead is just. Why do sinners’ ways prosper? And why must Disappointment all I endeavor end?

Then read scripture (Mt 5:45): This is what God does. He gives his best—the sun to warm and the rain to nourish—to everyone, the good and the bad, the nice and the nasty. If I am honest, this is a little galling. This gospel is a call to repentance—to change my heart and change my thinking. How do I adjust my thinking, my expectations and my actions so that they mirror those of God more closely?

A Meditation in the Ignatian Style/Imagination:

Read Luke 7:36-50 (The woman with a bad reputation who washes Jesus’ feet) Picture all the men coming together to dine at the house of Simon the Pharisee. Imagine the opulent room—tables laden with all sorts of delicious delicacies and wonderful wines, with well-dressed men reclining languidly at this feast. You look around at your friends and a few you might not know, including a scruffy-looking young man with well-worn robes and filthy feet. Who can he be, and how did he get invited to this Banquet?

Suddenly, there is a commotion as a woman with an unsavory reputation bursts into the dining salon where the only women who are allowed are servants. Imagine their shock and outrage as she proceeds with her extravagant gesture, washing Jesus’ feet with her copious tears and drying them with her hair (!) before anointing them with costly perfumed oil from the alabaster jar she has brought with her. Can you almost see the smirk on Simon’s face as he contemplates how embarrassed Jesus would be if he knew who this woman really was? Imagine also his chagrin as Jesus discerns Simon’s thoughts and puts him in his place with a parable about forgiveness. Chiding Simon for his lack of generosity and lack of graciousness, Jesus points out those very qualities of generosity and graciousness in the woman before him and announces that her sins are forgiven because of her great love. Jesus turns and gently speaks those words we all long to hear: “Go in peace. Your sins are forgiven.”

What does this story tell you about God’s reaction to your own sins? What does it tell you about God’s compassion and mercy? Stand before Jesus in your heart, ready to let him see all your faults, and pray the following prayer reflection by Sister Miriam Therese Winter (from WomanWord, p.72):

Center me enter me mystical mystery. Cleanse me and quiet me, tell me Thou art the thin thread of hope that sustains my believing, the rush of content that enables my heart.

A Meditation in the Franciscan Style/Action:

Make a phone call or send a message to someone in your life today who might need a second chance.

Homeless people, too, need our care and attention. Make a point to encounter a homeless person with genuine care and kindness this week, as you think Jesus might…

Poetic Reflection:

How does this poem by Denise Levertov capture the often barrenness of our reactions to Jesus’ presence in our lives as reflected in the way we treat others? In what way are we a barren fig tree? How can we teach ourselves to bear the fruit of God’s presence in this world?

“What the Fig Tree Said:”

Literal minds! Embarrassed humans! His friends were blurting for Him in secret: wouldn’t admit they were shocked. They thought Him petulant to curse me!—yet how could the Lord be unfair?—so they looked away, then and now. But I, I knew that helplessly barren though I was, my day had come. I served Christ the Poet, who spoke in images: I was at hand, a metaphor for their failure to bring forth what is within them (as figs were not within me). They who had walked in His sunlight presence, they could have ripened, could have perceived His thirst and hunger, His innocent appetite; they could have offered human fruits—compassion, comprehension— without being asked, without being told of need. My absent fruit stood for their barren hearts. He cursed not me, not them, but (ears that hear not, eyes that see not) their dullness, that withholds gifts unimagined.

Closing Prayer