Figs and Faith
 
Today I attempted to preach on Mark's account of Jesus' cursing the fig tree (Mark 11:12-25). I'm not sure where I heard or read the phrase "Optic Parable," but Mark appears to use them generously. An "optic parable" as I use it, is where Mark presents a historical miracle, which utlimately refers to some spiritual reality. The blind man, for instance, who was incrementally healed by Jesus, stood as a fitting representative of the disciples' distorted vision regarding Jesus' Messiahship (Mark 8:22-26). Like the blind man, they needed a "second touch" to see clearly who Jesus was. Until they understood the true nature of Jesus' Messiahship, they simply could not understand--or see--clearly what discipleship was all about. Between chapters 8 and 10, Jesus juxtaposes teaching about his messiahship, which involved a cross, and discipleship, which equally involved a cross (cf. Mark 8:31-38; 9:39-37; 10:32-45). Until they understood the basic self-sacrificial orientation of Jesus' Messiahship, they would alway struggled with a power-oriented discipleship that would forever have them lusting for positions of privilege in the kingdom.
 
Another literary technique judiciously used by Mark is the "chiasmus" structure. Deriving its name from the Greek letter "chi" (which looks somewhat like the English letter x), this literary device occurs when a particular story is interrupted by another event, after which the initial story is completed. Rather than indicating the Gospel writer's "scattered mind" in telling stories, this technique appears to be an intentional design to bring emphasis to the overall point. In the case of Jesus' cursing the fig tree, for example, Mark tells the initial portion of Jesus' cursing the fig tree for its lack of fruit (11:12-14). The narrative then moves to Jesus' reaction to the moneychangers in the temple complex, prophetically indicting them of transforming God's house of prayer into a den of robbers (11:13-19). After this story, Mark provides the conclusion to the fig tree episode (11:20-21). According to the chiasmus literary structure, the story within the story, rather than a wreckless interruption becomes the focus of the writer's point. If the chiasmus structure obtains in the case regarding the cursing of the fig tree (and I think it does), the barren fig tree and God's people in the time of Jesus had something in common. Just as the fig tree boasted of figs (its foliage implied fruit) but had none, so the religious leaders of Jesus' day presented a display of righteousness, but in actuality, their faith was vacuous. The very people that God intended to "bless the nations," had become a sad display of consumerism, becoming an obstacle to those who sought to draw near to God. Just as Jesus cursed the fig tree, which subsequently withered, so the Jewish nation, due to its "barrenness of faith," similarly would meet its demise.
 
In my sermon today, I wondered about the state of God's people. We have been called to be the body of Christ, salt and light in our broken world. Have we lost our "saltiness?" Have our lamps grown dim? In a postmodern world that is confused, do we boldly point to Jesus Christ, the only one who can save, or do we insist on fiddling with externals? Because we spend an inordinate amount of time arguing about how to correctly "do church," our world does not receive the blessing of Christ's body. I'm afraid that too often hungry people eventually stumble into our presence, but find nothing but leaves.
 
This is true regardless of one's worship style. It can be true of traditional churches as well as more contemporary churches. If we remain focused on such externals, our tree might look inviting, but there is no substance there.
 
The church is to offer the redemptive love of Christ to our world. A love that says "Neither do I condemn you...leave your life of sin." When church becomes a place for sinners authentically to experience such love, then, and only then, are we a fruitful tree. God grant your people the grace to be your body...and start with me!