Fig Trees Must Produce Figs

I begin this Blog by asking my readers to consider these words from Scripture:

"Come to me all who are thirsty, and I will give you living water to drink. The water you think you need, like the bread you eat and the work you labor on, will never truly satisfy you. Come unto me, and I will give you life-giving water."

Many colleges still have what are called comprehensive exams, culminating assessments in a student’s major area of study. If she or he can pass these tests, often taking several hours or even days to complete, the student is assured of his or her degree.

For someone majoring in liberal arts, the exams might include a short answer section where students are asked to identify the source and context of a number of brief quotations from important historical works.

So I ask you, again, to consider these words:

Come to me all who are thirsty, and I will give you living water to drink

If you said “Isaiah 55,” you would be correct, but if you said, “that sounds like something Jesus said,” you would also be right. That’s because Jesus knew his Scriptures very well, so well, in fact, that they permeated his every thought and action. Isaiah must have been a favorite of his because we hear strains of Isaiah in many of Jesus’ best stories.

Continuing our survey, how should we identify the passage about drinking from the rock?

“all passed through the sea, … and all ate the same spiritual food, and all drank … from the spiritual rock.”

Did you guess Exodus 14: “And the Lord said to Moses, ‘lift up your staff, …’” or did you think, “that sounds more like chapter 17, when: ‘The Lord said, …”take the staff, strike the rock, and water will come out.”’” Perhaps you recalled that in Numbers 20, Moses arrived at Meribah with all Israel complaining about the lack of water for themselves and their livestock. God tells Moses to command the water to flow from the rock that it might provide for the people and animals. And the people assent to this. But what does Moses do? He raises the staff and strikes the rock twice. And the water gushed out.

“and the rock,” said Paul, “was Christ.”

What is this new teaching? Is it some sort of hybrid? Is Jesus in the rock. Is he the bread of life? What about the life-giving water?

Imagine, if you will, Scripture as a spiritual root system for the abundant life that God intends for all creation. The system requires sunlight, water and nutrients. Given these and time, the healthy foundation will feed the tree, and the tree will produce good fruit.

Likewise, imagine a similar foundation feeding the work of the Church, a foundation built on a way of life modeled by a man named Jesus. A man who, by at least four important accounts, knew the Scriptures, was a respected teacher and healer, and who lived and acted as if he were the Son of God.

I, for one, believe that he was. Not a meek and mild person, but a lion, a man full of courage and wisdom—a rock, said Paul.

So what, you may ask, was Jesus doing when he told this parable about the fig tree? From the very opening we notice something unusual. Who plants a fig tree in a vineyard? Aren’t vineyards places to cultivate grapes? And what sort of vineyard is this anyway? Could it be that this is not a real vineyard but a metaphor for something else, an unusual garden that has been taken over by foreigners?

And because the tree is a not at home in this place, it does not bear fruit.

The fig tree is threatened, presumably by the owner of the vineyard who had it planted there to begin with,but whose eyes clearly see the changing way of things.

So why, I asked myself, did he plant this tree in the first place?

To bear fruit, that’s why. That’s what fig trees do—they bear fruit. It is their nature, and they know, instinctively, what they are meant for—bearing fruit. In particular, figs.

I imagine that Jesus wants us to look within and identify that for which we too were created, and then to bear fruit suited to the unique gifts we have inside, not the kind of fruit that the world chases after—wealth, fame, recognition, power—but fruit that sustains us in an eternal way. A fig tree must produce figs, not grapes or olives or pistachio nuts.

Perhaps you sympathize with the fig tree, that it fears the contempt it might receive from grape vines when its fruit looks and tastes different. It is the Ugly Duckling before Hans Christian Andersen. It does not belong. It is not one of us. Therefore, it does not deserve the space it occupies. Cut it down.

Jesus knows, as you and I know, that the fig tree will never produce grapes because that is not its purpose. And trees sometimes fail when they are in isolation. But given time, a community, and a sense of urgency and purpose, it can thrive and find its true calling.

Even in an uncomfortable place, surrounded by what is very different, we have a choice. We can give up. That is the easy way. We can pretend to be what we are not. That is the fruitless way. Or we can step back and reclaim that for which we were created, pursuing it with renewed vigor and courage, the kind that comes from a the refreshing and nourishing waters that spring from the rock, the rock that is Christ Jesus.

The tree symbolizes the tension we live in. A tree is more than just its roots. It is a living thing and it grows and provides fruit in surprising ways. So we must stay connected, continue to seek God who is mystery, be active today, follow Jesus as our example. It is life that matters, not a life of judgment about past faults, but about hope and expectation of a vibrant and meaningful future.

A few weeks ago we looked at a passage that warns that connection with God does not mean that we can do anything we want whenever we want. That is not the freedom from judgment that Jesus preached. Nor are we God. We are of God, like God in our forgiveness and compassion. We are like the fig tree, full of possibility and potential for goodness.

I took comps back in the day. I was uncomfortable because of the randomness of the quotations, and the breadth of knowledge expected of me. Today’s lessons, at first struck me this way, but as I studied, more and more connections were revealed.

I liken this parable to all little churches or groups who read and study in order to learn more about God and Jesus. What are we doing in this vineyard where we stick out like the threatened fig tree? Was this the garden imagined by the founders of IU? I mean the world has changed over the past 100 years. But we must remain firm, grounded in who we are in this place and at this time. It is the only way to honor the God who created us and to live up to our full potential.