If I Ran the Garden--March 27, 2025

If I Ran the Garden--March 27, 2025

Then he told this parable: “A man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard; 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 if not, you can cut it down.’” (Luke 13:6-9)

I have to confess: I would have given up on the tree.  

I don't think I would have even given it the opportunity for a fourth year of growth and a chance at last to bear fruit, much less committed to extra work for its sake.  

If I had been in charge of this tree--if I had been the gardener in Jesus' story--I would have either chopped it down, dug it up, or more likely just ignored it to let it wither and die without so much as an ounce of further effort on my part, leaving it to take its place in the long line of houseplants, flower gardens, and ornamental shrubs I have managed to kill by neglect over the years.

In short (apologies here to Dr. Seuss), if I ran the garden in Jesus' parable, I wouldn't have crossed the line into being inconvenienced simply for the sake of nursing a fruit-deficient tree into producing a few figs.  (There is probably a joke waiting to be found here about "not giving a fig," but I shall leave it for someone else to make.)  I know myself well enough to admit that I might be willing to encourage or root for someone as long as it doesn't demand too much of my time, effort, or energy, but if it's going to take a long commitment or a big investment of resources, I get stingy.  

It's easy to wish for others to find safe refuge or build a new life for their families away from war zones, but watch how quickly that abstract hypothetical sympathy and support evaporates when folks think they might be inconvenienced by refugees moving into their neighborhood or their resources being requested to help them get settled.  It's easy to say you want folks recovering from addiction to be successful in getting sober, so long as it doesn't affect your schedule, your wallet, or your routines.  It's easy to say we want to care for the environment, or educating children, or any number of worthy causes and issues, only to refuse to change the way we shop, support school levies, or waste less energy. I suspect that all of us are like this at some level, at least for some of the time.  Our caring about others--even if it's people, not fig trees--is firmly circumscribed by our resistance to being inconvenienced or put to extra trouble for them.

And as I say, this is part of the wonder of this parable for me.  Jesus offers an alternative perspective--a minority report--in this story, voiced by the gardener.  He proposes giving the so-far fruitless tree an extra year out of utter grace (the tree has definitely not "earned" an extra year of time, since it hasn't produced fruit yet), and he proposes doing extra work in order to help this tree out.  It's not only going to require both the owner and the gardener to be patient, but the gardener is now signing up for extra work, watering, putting manure on the tree, and helping it to bear fruit.  Everything about this is an inconvenience for the gardener, and yet the gardener is the one leading the charge to help this tree to produce figs.  He is willing to take the time and make the effort for this tree to produce fruit, even though it will cost him.  He is willing to cross the line from what is easy and convenient but basically an empty gesture, across into the realm of what is costly and difficult but actually offers help.  That's the difference with Jesus' kind of love.

And really, that's what still stuns me about this story of Jesus--this is a glimpse of the lengths God in Christ is willing to go to for my sake.  This is how Jesus expended himself for our sake.  This is how God bears with us, over and over again, through long seasons of fruitlessness on our part, in order to nurture us into maturity--in order for us to become what we are meant to be.

Maybe the hallmark of Christlike love is just that: it is willing to go to extra effort, be inconvenienced, or give time, resources, and effort for our sake, even when we haven't given Jesus much reason to believe we'll be a worthwhile investment.  And when we realize that this is how we have been loved, maybe we'll dare to love others the same way--with a willingness to go beyond pleasantries and convenient but empty gestures, into a patient love that goes the extra mile.

Like I say, if I were the gardener in Jesus' story, there's a good chance I would have just given up on the tree.  But Jesus isn't done with me, and he is loving me into becoming the kind of person who would give the tree the grace to become what it was meant to be... which is to say, he is also giving me the grace to become what I was meant to be, too.

Lord Jesus, lead us to love beyond what is convenient the way you have loved us with patience and grace.