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How long, o man, how long?Sunday, March 7, 2010
Luke 13:4-8 "A man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard. He went to look for fruit on it but found none. So he said to the gardener, "For three years now I've been coming to look for fruit on this fig tree. Cut it down! Why should it use up the soil?' "'Sir, the gardener replied, "Let's give it one more year. I'll dig around it and fertilize it. Maybe it will produce next year. If not, then chop it down.'"
I don't know if the vineyard owner ever cuts down that tree. Jesus doesn't say. What does the gardener do if there's no fruit in a year? Maybe he thinks he could try a different fertilizer and asks for a little more time. God says he sends the rain to the just and the unjust. And Jesus says, destruction comes likewise. There is no retribution from God in this disaster or that, but only foreshadowing of what befalls every man and woman. The only path away from this future involves repentance and surrender. There is nothing else I can do. Over the years I've done some pruning on the branches of my life, hoping for more robust figs and such. I encourage growth with Bible study and prayer and good deeds and more prayer. I notice change, and then I fall back into envy and gossip and comparing and lust and fear. I feel failure and foreboding ... will this ever change? How long, o Lord, how long? "Let me be in charge of that," God says. "Don't be afraid. There is nothing you can do to separate my love from you. When you leave and separate yourself from me, I'll give you opportunities one after another to remember the warmth of your bed in my house and the spread of good food chosen just for you always on the table. You can come back anytime, even in the twinkling of an eye. The door is always open, and it will never close." God let me believe you. I am afraid of your axe, the one you threaten to wield against the fig tree. I know I'm no more fruitful. I know I shoot some springtime promise and too often fail to bloom. You have every right to savage me and cut me down, cut me out, cut me. But I believe in your love and your acceptance and your patience. I will learn to receive your love and live in your house, and not be afraid. Thank you, Lord. |
God's sense of time and timing doesn't match mine. With the Lord a day is like a thousand years (2 Peter 3:8). So there's plenty of time to get it right. Eat, drink and be merry. But then at some undefined Instant, a thousand years is like a day. No more time. Time flies. It's flown the coop, gone with the wind. I'm here and so is God, and time no longer cushions our contact.