Heavy rain days make me think of God. Maybe because they remind me of mortality. In Mizoram, with thunder and lightning, and in Durtlang the whooshing of wind, it becomes reflex to say little prayers. And relax.
This Tuesday, my mind travels to Jesus cursing a lone fruitless fig tree. Why, I’ve always wondered. I suppose if you’re hangry and you have the power to instantly wither off a tree full of leaves, you would, too. But you’d think God would be different.
Something nagged me about the timeline and fortunately somebody in office had a Bible so I didn’t have to quite freak out with unresolved theories in my head and I could just quickly check it out. And there it was.
Two major things happened, as per this discussion.
One, Jesus enters Jerusalem triumphantly but has little altercation with the temple leaders and one massive freak out at the temple.
Two, Jesus curses the fig tree for not bearing fruit while he was hungry, and it withers.
A long time ago, someone said in a sermon that in the Bible, when things repeat, it is to show confirmation. Which is how you have four Gospels that tell, by and large, the same account with only minor differences here and there, or The Ten Commandments repeated in Exodus and then in Deuteronomy, or how Kings and Chronicles are basically the same books, or parables of the Lost Coin, Lost Sheep and Lost Son… they serve to emphasize a message.
For this muse, I’ve always taken the fig tree in isolation. I thought maybe it just stood out and people noticed. Or maybe it showed the humane side of Jesus, the man that could and did get angry. Something.
However, if you take it into context with what happened at the Temple and with the religious leaders there, things start to fall into place. What was Jesus’ altercation with the temple leaders about? That the children recognized him for who he was as the Messiah but the leaders, who should recognise him, more so than anyone else, them being familiar with the Scriptures, could not. Why did Jesus freak out at the Temple? He did not care that the Temple grounds were being used for exploiting the poor worshippers. So in essence, his issue with the Temple and the leaders? They had the Right Image of worship and righteousness but were corrupt within and bore no fruit that the ones who needed it could consume.
This then was Jesus’ issue with the fig tree. The fig tree looked like it bore fruit, what with its multitude of leaves. But when a hungry Jesus approached it for food, he found it had none.
Repetition. And live demo.
Interestingly, Jesus has been saying this earlier as well, when he told his followers that they will know people by the fruits they bear. Point to note: not the clothes they wear, because some will be ravenous wolves that approach you in sheep’s clothing. Be careful, he had already warned.
So you know, more repetition.
I think the pitfall is the word “good”. Jesus once asked a young guy why he called him good because only God is good. I think he meant it like if you call me good, then you recognize me as God. I think in that instance it was less about humility, than it was about the young man not recognizing him as God, and Jesus just telling him he sees through him and into his soul. Or beliefs.
We call people good all the time and sometimes I think it is a plea for reciprocation. Please see me as good too, you know. It is easy to fall into this pit because once you think you are good, then it is easy to play you. I could play you. Imagine how much more so the Devil. All that we’d need to do is tell you you’re good, and therefore this or that. The real harm is when you think you’re so good that (a) other people are bad, and that (b) you could save them. Who is good?
Even Doctor Who debated this. Am I good, he kept asking himself. Clara and Twelve went into philosophy debating goodness. This was after Eleven went on a destruction spree banking on his goodness and all the people who owed him for his goodness, prompting River Song to recite a haunting poem of what happens when a good man goes to war. Am I a good man? he childishly asked of Clara. Clara thought about it and would eventually tell him she didn’t know, but that he tried to be, and maybe that was the whole point. Glum. The poem is really nice, though.
Jesus, though. He was a good man. Because He was God. And only God is good. And God in his judgement decided to be angry because Appearance was all that some people – and trees – had to offer him.
The lesson is harsh. How can anyone be good, when only God is good? Maybe if we try, it will be enough. More precisely, if we don’t pretend to be good while rotting inside, we can begin to walk on the road to goodness. Maybe. Or maybe only God is good and we can take refuge in that. But still stop pretending to be good. They say the Devil tempts you; maybe that’s true. I suppose if I were the Devil, I wouldn’t tempt a religious man with drugs and alcohol or even sexy sex, but perhaps I’d tempt them with a boastful heart, pride, ego, the certainty of knowing oneself to be “good”.
Almost 1000 words. I guess my bottom line is: fear the anger of the good man. Or risk instant withering.
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