5March 7, 2010  I Cor. 10:1-13, Lk. 13:1-9

 

It was 9:30 in the morning of All Saints Day in the most devout country in the world. First, the earthquake struck, killing people in the churches and throughout the city. Then the fires started. The people fled for the water to escape the flames, and then, the tidal wave came. It was Lisbon, Portugal 1755 and 3/4 of the city was ruined. The priests responded by searching for heretics to burn slowly, for the heretics were the obvious cause of the earthquake.

 

How do we regard God and human suffering? I hear versions of our passage from Paul a lot. It goes something like this. God doesn't give us more than we can take or tackle. First, the pronoun is the collective you, not singular. Second, the key trouble with it is the underlying assumption that God deliberately gives us troubles, especially ones over which we have no choice. Another way to go at it would be that God gives us a doable regimen of improvement but God will not overtax our limits. What some call radical suffering, unjust, arbitrary, senseless suffering does not, ever, come from the hand of God. That includes the common phrase that god takes our loved ones. Third, the emphasis of the passage is on the way out, an exodus, that replicates God's deliverance from the sore troubles of slavery in Egypt for the people. Life is hard enough without having God act as our enemy. 

 

Jesus faces two types of evil in the gospel. First, Pilate's act is pure human evil an example of arbitrary, innocent suffering at the hands of a tyrant. The collapse of a tower probably would be a form of natural evil, an unfortunate event of the blind forces of nature, the forces of tornadoes or earthquake. First, notice that Jesus does not assign blame to the victims of evil. He does not say that they somehow deserved it, that they weren't positive-thinking enough, that God was punishing them. Second, Jesus does not assign God a role in this suffering.

 

Instead of seeing a punitive, controlling God, Jesus gives a parable that speaks of patience, of willingness to give more time. Much of this land was covered with trees.When land was opened up for farming, trees were removed as impediments to the long straight rows of crops. If a tree is supposed to be productive, all well and good, but don't waste energy on trying to save it. Plant something else. Here the emphasis is on trying to save the one little fig tree, to do everything in one's power to bring it to full life. I've read that the fruit starts to appear before the leaves.Instead of an impatient demand for results, the gardener is willing to give time and effort toward making the conditions for the tree to be productive. It did not escape notice that the fig tree was a Biblical symbol for Israel, or was a sign of the coming of the Messiah. God is patient with our failings to bear the fruit with the gift of life. Put differently, God is not chomping at the bit to get at us for our failings; God continues to work with us.

 

One fine day, God's fond hope for all the world will come to fruition. Until that time, trials and temptations will not cease. The exodus, the way out for us when we fall prey to temptations is the road of repentance, of course.  The trials of death await us all. Even there, God provides a way out, the road to heaven.In the meantime, with infinite patience and care, God continues to tend the garden of our lives, giving us the precious gift of time, to bloom like the coming daffodils, to grow toward the beauty intends for this life.