Bearing Fruit

B= earing Fruit

Luke 1= 3: 1-9

“A man had a fi= g tree planted in his vineyard; and he came looking for fruit on it and found none.” Luke 13.6

The hills of Galilee were bristling with the news. It was no surprise that at that very time th= ere were some present who told Jesus about the heinous slaughter of local worshipers on the orders of Pontius Pilate. And immediately following= the account of that tragedy, Jesus reminds his listeners of the catastrophe at Siloam where 18 people were crushed beneath a falling water tower. Innocent people---all of them---some the targets of violence while others were the victims of an accident. The residents of Galil= ee were wrestling with the question that has plagued humanity since the time of Cain and Abel---Why do bad things happen to good people? Why must the innocent suffer so?

It was a stark reminder that the gift of human life = can be snuffed out like a candle---without warning, without notice, without reason= . The season of earthly life is just that---a season. A season has a beginning, the season unfolds, and the season ends. It’s not op= en ended, indefinite, and subject to our convenience or our preferred schedule= .

Jesus does not offer an answer to this timeless ques= tion, but he does share a parable.

Some of you might remember that Jesus was particular= ly fond of parables, those special teaching stories comprised of common experiences.

But before we try to unpack this parable of the fig = tree, let me say a few words about the special nature of parables. And I th= ink that can best be done by sharing with you how parables are presented in our Children’s Worship ministry. Hear these words that the storytel= ler shares with the children when they prepare to unpack a parable. While placing a box wrapped with gold foil before the children, the storyteller s= ays:

I wonder if this is a parable? Hmm. It might be. Parables are very precious, like gold, and this box is gold. This looks like a present. Well, parables are like presents. Th= ey have already been given to us. We can’t buy them, or take them,= or steal them. They are already ours….There’s another reason= why this might be a parable. It has a lid. And sometimes parables s= eem to have lids on them. But when you lift the lid of a parable there is something very precious inside… (Stewart and Berryman 156).=

This is how our children learn to understand parable= s and it is my hope for this morning’s listeners that---at least for this day---we all might share this understanding of the parable and receive this gift as a child might.

In this morning’s reading, Jesus tells us:&nbs= p;

"A man had a fig tree planted in his vineyar= d; 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 around it and put manure on it.

If it bears fruit next year, well and good; but i= f not, you can cut it down.'" (Luke 13: 6-9).

Friends, I don’t want to seem too smug here.&n= bsp; But it’s pretty clear to me that God is the man that owns the vineyar= d, Jesus is the gardener, and I’m the fruitless fig tree. I suppose many of us can relate to that fruitless fig tree. We know what itR= 17;s like to be compromised by competing agendas and challenged to successfully complete a task, or at least complete it well.

But just imagine, if you will, what we might learn i= f we could gain access to the hopes and dreams of that fig tree---a sort of fico-analysis. It might go something like this….Well, I just want to grow up strong and shapely, with a particularly full canopy of leav= es to round out my figure. Fruit bearing is the last thing on my mind.&n= bsp; It makes your branches sag and your bark begins to wrinkle up prematurely. My dream is to make the cover of Horticulture Magazine!<= o:p>

And God has to be the man that owns the vineyard and proposes that the fruitless tree be cut down. He’s the judge of= the situation and doesn’t hesitate to hand down the sentence. With = all the fervor of the Old Testament God found in the King James Bible, this frustrated landowner wants to smite that fruitless fig tree on the s= pot.

But the voice of reason in this situation comes from= the gardener. The gardener must be Jesus. It’s the gardener w= ho tends to our needs. It’s the gardener who advocates on our beha= lf with the landowner. It’s the gardener who expresses a willingne= ss to make the sacrifice for us---spending additional time and doing extra wor= k to give us twiggy fig trees the very best shot at bearing fruit.

Notice what the gardener offers to do---to cultivate around the tree and do some soil conditioning. These are activities t= hat the fig tree is totally dependent on the gardener to perform.

One of the messages of this morning’s parable = just might be: Jesus does for us that which we could never do for ourselves.

It seems like a wrap. We nailed this parable.&= nbsp; We’ve got the key players figured out. Their relationships make sense with the real world. We’ve got the focus statement for the sermon. Our work is done…

But I wonder what might shake out if we turned the p= arable up on its side?

What if Jesus isn’t the gardener in our parabl= e? Maybe Jesus is the landowner. The gospel record suggests that Jesus has a rather strained relationship with fig trees that fail to bear fruit. In fac= t, there are at least two accounts where Jesus is reported to have cursed a ba= rren fig tree. Mark’s gospel reports,

“….Jesus was hungry….When he ca= me to the fig tree, he found nothing but leaves, for it was not the season for figs. And Jesus said to the fig tree, ‘May no one ever eat fruit from you again.’ And his disciples heard it.” (Mark 11.12-14; see also Mt. 21: 19-21).

Now if I’m supposed to be a fruitless fig tree= in need of some tender loving care, this doesn’t sound like the constant gardener I want cultivating around my compacted root system! Jesus’ outburst to the fig tree in Mark’s gospel sounds a lot more like the frustrations expressed by the disgruntled landowner in the parable.

And if that’s so, then the gardener’s ro= le must be assumed by God. My understanding of God is much more consistent with the nurturing gardener than it is with the impatient, smiting landowner. We worship a God who’s gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and aboundi= ng in steadfast love. This is not a God who would abandon us or give up on us because we weren’t fruitful.

This is a God whose persistent love will continue to nurture and tend to our needs. This is a God whose transforming grace will ultimately wear down every obstacle to fruitfulness. This is a God whose lo= ve is eternal, whose grace is persistent, and whose faithfulness endures forev= er and ever, from generation to generation.

And assuming that the gardener has made a proper ana= lysis of the problem, there’s yet another lesson to be learned from this parable. Fruitfulness is God’s work because it’s dependent on God’s initiative.

This seems like a plausible analysis of the parable. We’ve got all the parts assigned and there’s a focus statement = that has some possibilities for directing a sermon. This must be right. It works= out so neatly. Our work is done…

But I wonder…what might shake out if we turned= the parable up on its end? Let’s really push the envelope and pretend that fig trees can move around at will. Can you imagine what a circus that would be---all those competing ambitions in one hillside vineyard? Remember, thes= e are all fig trees originally planted in this vineyard for the purpose of bearing fruit, but with this new found freedom, who has the time or the energy for that?

I imag= ine some trees would immediately move to the highest point in the vineyard to get th= e best view. Others would crowd around the hillside spring so they would no longer have to worry about drought. Those that might be left behind in the more traditional rows would compete for being the tallest tree or the one with t= he most branches or maybe the one with the largest shadow.

The fig trees with real vision and ambition would set their sights beyond the boundaries of the local vineyard. They might catch a caravan to Jerusalem, visit friends at the botanical gardens, or hang out in the local parks.

And what about shopping? If there’s one univer= sal weakness of fig trees, it’s their obsession with shopping. They could= buy some Miracle-Gro, get a new set of loppers or maybe a pruning saw, try on s= ome fashionable, new bird netting….

OK. Enough already. I know it all seems just too preposterous.

But sometimes it’s the absurdity of the situat= ion that helps to open up the possibilities for insight---particularly in this realm of parables. Assuming your willing to even push the parable this far, another possible lesson might be: Fruitfulness is our faithful response = to God’s work. It’s about allowing ourselves to be placed in= a position where we are able to receive from God that which we could never provide for ourselves.

This morning’s gospel lesson began with two tr= agic accounts concerning the death of innocent people. It’s a stark remind= er of our shared mortality and the sense of urgency associated with the fact t= hat the season of bearing fruit is now.

We’ve shared a playful analysis of a parable a= nd demonstrated that parables can be much more fruitful than they appear at fi= rst glance.

And finally, let me leave you with one final parable= possibility. What if the landowner was you---this morning’s congregat= ion, the gardener was me and the fruitless fig tree was this sermon? Know that y= ou have a comparable offer to the one offered to the landowner in the parable-= --if this sermon bears fruit over the next year, well and good; but if not, you = can cut it down.”

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of t= he Holy Spirit. Amen.

Reference Cited

Stewart, Sonja M. and Jerome W. Berryman. = Young Children and Worship. Louisville/Westminster John Knox. 1989.