Bearing Fruit: Grace, Urgency, and Our Divine Purpose

Readings: Isaiah 55:1-9, Luke 13:1-9, Secrets of Heaven #7690 (see below)
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Photo credit: Antonio Lorenzana Bermejo

Here we are, halfway through Lent, and so it is probably time for me to preach a real Lent-y sermon. I promise though, that this is about as “fire and brimstone” as I am ever going to get. Last week, in hearing the parable of the Lost Sons and the Welcoming Father, we came into an understanding of God’s steadfastness. God will always cross the threshold for us, God will always forgive us and celebrate bringing us home. This can sometimes feel like such a relief to us to know, for the weight of spiritual work can feel so heavy, so hard, and we are so fallible. We thank the Lord for such grace, for the fact of God showing up as the constant; this gives us hope. Out of the abundance of God’s mercy, love and confidence, we will get many chances to grow throughout our life. We will flail around, we will be imperfect, but together with God we will evolve.

Let us then take a deep breath, and remember that grace. For now we journey from the relief back into the tension, as reflected in the parable about the fig tree. Jesus told a story about a fig tree that was not bearing fruit, and how the owner ordered it cut down. The gardener suggested it should be left living for one more year, given time to be nurtured and supported so that it might produce. And if it should not, then it could be removed. I actually have my own beloved fig tree in my yard. There is nothing quite as good as fresh figs straight off the tree. But, Pennsylvania is not quite a mediterranean climate. Sometimes the winters have been too harsh and the branches die down to the roots. In those years, all the tree can do is just try to recover, and I too hover around wishing and waiting that it might bear some fruit, but it does not. As much as we might relate to either the owner or the gardener in the parable, we also recognize the metaphorical language that Jesus is using. The fig tree is not just a fig tree, it is representing a person; the fig tree is us. And herein lies the tension: a fruit tree is supposed to bear fruit, when it is not bearing fruit it is in denial of its truest purpose. So it is with us. What are we here for, if not to make the world a little better for us having lived. “Why should we use up the soil?” Swedenborg tells us that the whole of heaven, the whole of creation, rests on mutual love as its foundation (1). There is no other purpose for the universe.

And so the mercy and grace of God’s relationship with us is balanced with the urgency of action (2). Yes, we as the fig tree are always given another chance, given what we need in order to thrive, taken care of by God. God will pick up that shovel, dig that trench, fill it with manure, God will prune and hover and hope. But the choice is ours whether or not to act for the good of those around us. There is a tension between the fluidity of grace and the necessity of action. This is the real world. We don’t always have all the time we need. We won’t always get all the chances we want. We won’t always be ready when the time calls us. Climate change is happen now, threats to our democracy are happening now, ongoing systemic racism affects actual livelihoods now, unfair healthcare systems cost lives in the here and now. Our personal relationships won’t always be able to withstand laziness or neglect, our bodies won’t always be healthy and/or strong. There is a time limit to our life, there are actual consequences that result from our decisions, there are stakes. It matters if we produce fruit with our lives or not.  We have been given the keys to the car. God might be a very understanding parent but it still matters if we crash it. We often give our toddlers a toy version of car keys or a cell phone but that’s not what is going on here with us. We are not in charge a pretend world but real one, with real consequences.

And that is why I think it is important for us to understand some more about what Jesus was getting at. Just before our reading for today, Jesus says in 12:54-56

“…when you see a cloud rising in the west, immediately you say “It’s going to rain,” and it does. And when the south wind blows, you say, “it’s going to be hot,” and it is. Hypocrites! You know how to interpret the appearance of the earth and the sky. How is it that you don’t know how to interpret this present time?”

“How is it that you don’t know how to interpret this present time?”

This question, this exasperated desperately sad and caring question, is deeply connected to the parable that follows, deeply connected to the lament of the owner “…for three years now, I’ve been coming to look for fruit on this fig tree and haven’t found any. Cut it down! Why should it use up the soil?” 

Why indeed? The presence of fruit, the fruitfulness of our actions, depends upon our ability to look around us and interpret our present time, our present moment, to look around and see what is really needed, see what we are really being called to. To perceive the brokenness of the world, to perceive the ways in which the world desperately needs God and us, the places where the kingdom needs to come(3).

And that is why we see further from our Swedenborg reading that just as a tree represents a person, a tree also represents perception. Repentance always begins with perceiving something new, and that is why in Lent we try to adhere to practices that open us up to that perceiving, whether that be making time or quiet space, clearing out our schedule or giving up distractions or dependencies. The tree represents a new perception of what our moment calls for, and this is what will cause the fruit to be produced.  A perception of what is needed giving rise to a loving action that fulfills that need. 

And so, we are each of *us* is called to interpret our present time. We are called to interpret our global time; how might we act to preserve our world for future generations? We are called to interpret our political time; how might we lift up servant leaders who value all people, not just the powerful? Who respect the rule of law, not just their own desires? We are called to interpret our cultural time; how might we resist superficial, craven, worldly values, even as we are swept up in the briskness of culture’s flow? We are called to interpret our relational time, our personal present moments; how might we show up for those we love, how might we make space for their needs, how might we give voice to our own? There are many more examples, and  our fruitfulness depends upon how we interpret and show up to each moment that we are in.

Yet, what is it that caused Jesus’ lament: How is it that we *don’t* know how to interpret our present time? What is it that prevents us? What is it that allows us to “predict the weather,” as Jesus said, to be so effective in external ways but miss the whole point, to miss what we are truly being called to in order to serve our neighbor. I get it, sometimes we legitimately just don’t know what is best for us to do. And other times, if we are honest, the answer is the same for Jesus’ time as now: varying levels of fear and self-absorption, playing out in large and small ways. (Remember, I did say this was going to be a Lent-y sermon!) 

We look out into our world, and we see multiple examples of public figures and leaders intent only on preserving power and profit. They will never truly see the import of the moment we are in, or they are in, because they cannot see past their own self-absorption. And what about us? We will find many examples in our own lives too: We might shy away from calling out racist or cruel behavior because it feels scary or exhausting to do so, we might find ourselves othering people because somehow they make us afraid of what we think we might lose, we might find ourselves descending into anger or cynicism because it feels easier or more powerful than acknowledging our sadness. We might miss a child or a friend reaching out for connection because we are preoccupied, we might avoid empathy because it feels too vulnerable, we might avoid saying what is true because are afraid we will be judged…and so it goes on in a multitude of complicated ways; we produce only leaves and God hovers, waiting and hoping for the fruit that could be.

God has planted a seed in us, given us life, nurtured us, and we have grown into beautiful trees, capable of producing our own unique fruit, something borne of our freedom of choice and the nature of God. We are accountable to God’s ends, to God’s divine love and what divine love calls us into. Of course, God would never “cut us down.” That will never ever happen. But God also knows the measure to which we will strive to stay asleep, and wishes to shake us awake. The growth of our fruit depends upon how we interpret each moment we are in. And that moment is given to us only once. By God’s grace, we will get many moments, but never one the same as the other. And so we sit in this tension; that there is grace but there is also urgency. God is patient but God is also lovingly fierce, and every moment delayed has its consequence. 

Even so, God is an attentive and loving gardener, doing everything possible to support us and help us grow. This is an equally appropriate lesson from this parable. And so, we breath into the balance. Sometimes we won’t be ready to act, and that is okay. A fig tree, such as mine, recovering from difficult winters, might not be able to bear. Sometimes we need to accept that season of rest, accept that trench of manure, so lovingly given. But a fig tree was created to grow figs, to nourish and fill bellies with sweetness and satisfaction, to give of itself something beautiful and living. God will not let us forget our nature, God will not let us forget our reason for being. God will not cease from calling us to bear sweeter fruit than we thought we could, to grow into our heavenly and angelic nature. This Lent, let us listen deeply to each moment that we are in, and respond accordingly. Amen.

(1) Secrets of Heaven 1055
(2) Elle Dowd, https://www.disruptworshipproject.com/rcl/lent-3
(3) https://www.workingpreacher.org/brainwave.aspx?podcast_id=1116

Readings:

Isaiah 55:1-9

1 “Come, all you who are thirsty, come to the waters; and you who have no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without cost. 2 Why spend money on what is not bread, and your labor on what does not satisfy? Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good, and you will delight in the richest of fare. 3 Give ear and come to me; listen, that you may live. I will make an everlasting covenant with you, my faithful love promised to David. 4 See, I have made him a witness to the peoples, a ruler and commander of the peoples. 5 Surely you will summon nations you know not, and nations you do not know will come running to you, because of the LORD your God, the Holy One of Israel, for he has endowed you with splendor.” 6 Seek the LORD while he may be found; call on him while he is near. 7 Let the wicked forsake their ways and the unrighteous their thoughts. Let them turn to the LORD, and he will have mercy on them, and to our God, for he will freely pardon. 8 “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the LORD. 9 “As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.


Luke 13:1-9

1 Now there were some present at that time who told Jesus about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mixed with their sacrifices. 2 Jesus answered, “Do you think that these Galileans were worse sinners than all the other Galileans because they suffered this way? 3 I tell you, no! But unless you repent, you too will all perish. 4 Or those eighteen who died when the tower in Siloam fell on them—do you think they were more guilty than all the others living in Jerusalem? 5 I tell you, no! But unless you repent, you too will all perish.” 6 Then he told this parable: “A man had a fig tree growing in his vineyard, and he went to look for fruit on it but did not find any. 7 So he said to the man who took care of the vineyard, ‘For three years now I’ve been coming to look for fruit on this fig tree and haven’t found any. Cut it down! Why should it use up the soil?’ 8 “ ‘Sir,’ the man replied, ‘leave it alone for one more year, and I’ll dig around it and fertilize it. 9 If it bears fruit next year, fine! If not, then cut it down.’ ”


Secrets of Heaven 7690

'And all the fruit on the trees' means every recognition of good. This is clear from the meaning of 'fruit' as the works of faith or of charity, thus forms of good (which is why the expression 'being fruitful' is used in reference to good) and from the meaning of 'trees' as perceptions, and also cognitions. The reason why 'fruit' means the works of charity, and so forms of good, is that the earliest existence of a tree is the fruit containing the seed and the final stage in its development is the fruit containing the seed, the intermediate stages of its development being the branches, that is, the leaves. It is similar with the good of love and truth of faith. The good of love is the initial seed when a person is being regenerated or 'planted', and it is also the final development. The intermediate stages are the truths of faith, which grow from the good of love as their seed and look constantly to the good of love as their final objective, just as the parts of a tree that are formed at intermediate stages look to their fruit containing the seed.