Calvin Synod Herald, 1978 (78. évfolyam, 1-12. szám)
1978-07-01 / 7-8. szám
4 CALVIN SYNOD HERALD Second, we see Jesus using His miraculous powers for His own end. That is precisely what in the temptations in the wilderness He once and for all determined never to do. He would not turn stones into bread to satisfy His own hunger; He would never selfishly use His power. The plain truth is this — if we have read of anyone else blasting a fig tree for not bearing figs in April, we would certainly have said that it was the act of an ill-tempered petulance springing from personal disappointment. In Jesus that is incredible and inconvinceable; therefore there must be some explanation. What is that explanation? There are some who have found an explanation on the following lines. In Luke there is a parable of the fig tree which failed to bear fruit. Twice the gardener pleaded for mercy for it, twice mercy and delay were granted; in the end it was still fruitless and it was therefore destroyed (Luke 13:6-9). So, then, it is suggested that the parable of the barren fig tree has been misunderstood, and has been turned into an actual incident when it should have remained as a parable; that there has been confusion which changed a story Jesus told, into an action Jesus did. That is by no means impossible; but it seems to us that the real explanation must be sought elsewhere. Let us remember a prophetic custom which Jesus knew and used. In the story of the entry of Jesus into Jerusalem we can see that frequently the prophets made use of symbolic actions; that when they felt that words would not penetrate, they did something dramatic to drive a lesson home. Now let us suppose that some such symbolic action is at the back of this story. Jesus, let us suppose, was on His way to Jerusalem. By the wayside He saw a tree in full leaf. It was perfectly legitimate for Him to pluck the figs from it, if there had been any. The law allowed that (Deut. 23:24-25) and a writer, Thomson in the Land and the Book tells us that even in modern times the wayside fig tree is open to all. Jesus went up to the fig tree, well knowing that there could be no fruit, and well knowing that there was something radically wrong with this fig tree. One of two things could have happened. The fig tree could have reverted to its wild state, just as roses revert to briars. That did happen. Or the fig tree could be in some way diseased. A fig tree with full leaf in the first days of April was inevitably a diseased tree. So, then, Jesus said looking at it: “This tree will never bear fruit; this tree will certainly wither.” It was the statement of a man who knew nature, because He had lived with nature. And indeed on the next day it was clear that the diagnosis of the expert eye of Jesus was infallibly correct. Now if this was a symbolic action, it was definitely meant to teach something. What was it meant to teach? It meant to teach two things about the Jewish nation for with that nation the head-on clash of Jesus was imminent. This symbolic action taught that uselessness invites disaster. That is the law of life. Anything which is useless is on the way to elimination, any thing and any person can only justify its or his existence by fulfilling the end for which it was meant and created. The fig tree was useless; therefore it was doomed. Now the nation of Israel had been brought into existence for one reason and for one reason only — that from there might come the Son of God, God’s annointed one. He had come; the nation failed to recognize Him; even more, they were about to crucify Him. The nation had failed in its function which was to welcome God’s son — and therefore the nation was doomed. Failure to realize the purpose of God brings necessary disaster. Everyone in this world is judged in terms of usefulness. Even if a person is helpless on a bed, they can be of the greatest use by patient example and by prayer. No one need be useless; and he who is useless is heading for disaster. This incident teaches that profession without practice is condemned. The tree had leaves, the leaves were a claim to have figs; the tree had no figs; its claim was false; it was an empty profession, therefore it was doomed. The Jewish nation professed faith in God — were they not the chosen people and was God not their God? But in spite of their profession, in practice they were out for the blood of God’s Son — therefore they stood condemned. Profession without practice was not only the curse of the Jews; it has been throughout the ages the curse of the church. G. T. Bellhouse quotes an amazing example of it from the autobiography of Ghandi. During his early days in South Africa — in Pretoria — Ghandi did inquire into Christianity. For several Sundays he attended a Christian Church, but he says “the congregation did not strike me as being particularly religious; they were not an assembly of devout souls, but appeared rather to be wordly minded people going to church for recreation and in conformity to custom.” He, therefore concluded that there was nothing in Christianity which he did not already possess and Ghandi was lost to the Christian Church with incalculable consequences to India and to the British Empire and to the world. Profession without practice is something of which we are all more or less guilty. It does incalculable harm to the Christian Church; and it is doomed to disaster, for it produces faith which cannot do anything else but wither away. We may well believe that Jesus used the lesson of a diseased (and degenerate) fig tree to say to that nation and to us that uselessness invites disaster, and profession without practice is doomed. Zoltán Király
