Imagine a time when the rich kept getting richer and the poor kept getting poorer. Imagine a time when taxes made it impossible to get ahead. Imagine a time when the big strong nations would invade and bully the smaller, weaker nations. Imagine a time when people with health issues had nowhere to turn to get better. Imagine a time when there wasn’t adequate food and many people went hungry. Imagine a time when people did not feel safe at homeland, so they fled to other countries. Imagine a society where women were not treated as full citizens. Imagine a time when among religious people the division between the conservatives and the liberals produced a society at odds with itself. No matter how familiar that might sound to you, that time actually describes when Jesus was alive. It must have seemed to him that the situation was dire with every prospect of it getting worse. No wonder the Lord envisioned future devastation. “The sun will be darkened and the moon will not give its light and the stars will fall from the sky, and the powers in the heavens will be shaken.” Things looked bad and were probably not going to get better without divine intervention.
However, Jesus sees some light in the middle of all that darkness by looking at a fig tree. Now I haven’t seen many fig trees lately but I do walk by the community farm every day so maybe the sight is similar. What I see there is dried up and dying tomato vines, rows of dirt where there used to be vegetables, brown desiccated leaves signifying an end to growth. There are still some patches of green and a few flowers hanging on but soon even they will be gone. So the farm is effectively over. For now. And maybe that is what Jesus saw looking at the fig tree. When the leaves fall off and all you are left with are bare branches the story does not end. In the rhythm of creation in a few months “its branch becomes tender and sprouts leaves.” A season of darkness and death will give way to a springtime of figs, of new life, of hope. When you look at the fig tree you understand that no matter how drastic the current situation seems, God isn’t finished yet.
What are some of the fig leaves, the signs of life, we should be attentive to in our era of darkness? My personal list would include the food pantry volunteers. In a world which seems to pit people against each other, every day another person volunteers at the pantry because they want to do something to help their neighbors. A green shoot sprouts. Another sign: us, this assembly at St. James gathered together in worship. From more than twenty nations, speaking a Babel of languages, from every race and tongue, men and women, lay and religious, young and old we join together and raise our voices in praise of God as one. The diversity provides another green branch giving lie to the attempt to split and divide us. Another: the ongoing dialogue about confronting racism which has been held here at St. James for the past few years. The willingness to name our nation’s original sin and do something about it sprouts a bit of green giving hope. Again: Young people acting to help preserve the health of our planet. The evidence of climate change in increasing storms and shifting weather patterns is inspiring young people into action to help Mother Earth, our common home. Their efforts are (literally) a little bit of green, the color of hope.
Looking at the fig tree, seeing the signs, we understand that a bleak season will, in God’s time, give way to a new burst of life. As Dr. King once put it, the arc of history is long but it bends toward justice. Jesus himself promises that “Son of Man is coming with great power and glory” which is the blessed assurance that all will be well. So, the question then becomes, how can we keep hope alive in the winter of our discontent? The epistle said Jesus is “waiting” on his seat at the right hand of God. We must wait too. As an old spiritual puts it, “Lord, help me to hold out until our change comes.” How do we live in the meantime? How does change happen? By becoming a pebble. You know an avalanche starts with a single pebble building up speed as it goes down the hill. The pebble picks up more and more companions until soon the whole side of the hill crashes down, changing the landscape. We start the avalanche of the new when we go out of our way to make sure the stranger feels welcome; when we help our planet in a small way by recycling cardboard and turning out the lights; when we recognize beauty in a sunset, a piece of art, a poem or a song; when we give or ask for forgiveness; when we let someone know they are loved. It only takes a spark to get a fire going.
Once upon a time, three frogs, Tom, Dick and Harry Frog, fell in a vat of milk. They kicked and kicked but they couldn’t get out. Tom Frog gave up. It’s no use, he said, and he sank to the bottom of the vat of milk. The two remaining frogs kept at it, kicking and kicking. After a long time Dick Frog said, I’ve tried but I’m just too tired. I give up and he sank to the bottom of the vat of milk. Harry Frog persevered. He kept kicking. He was tired. He wondered if it was doing any good but he kept at it. In fact, he kicked for so long that the vat of milk was churned into butter and Harry Frog was able to hop on a stick of butter and jump out. The moral of the story: keep kicking and something remarkable will happen.
