Who Cares?

Ann's and my Bible study this morning took us to look at the cleansing of the temple, as Mark tells the story. Topping and tailing that story is the account of the cursing of the fig-tree; and I've always felt a bit sorry for that poor old fig tree. It was bearing no fruit, granted, but, as Mark tells us, that was because it wasn't the season for figs! Is this the Jesus we know and love, we may ask, this man who curses a fig tree just because there were no figs ready for him when he wanted one? Isn't that more like how we behave - instant gratification being so much the motto of today's world - than what we might expect from the Messiah?

In fact, the story is closely connected in to the account of the cleansing of the temple. The temple was a place where the people might confidently come and expect to be fed, nourished, both in season and out of season. Instead, they got fleeced, forced into buying animals and birds for sacrifice, or to change their secular money into temple money for tribute, all at inflated prices. God's house had been turned into a business venture, a cultic shrine existing principally to support itself, rather than to bring nourishment to God's people. Jesus cleanses the temple, turning over tables, spilling coins, scattering pigeons, both as a deliberate and conscious acting-out of the prophecy of Malachi and as his own very personal and angry response to the gross injustice he found there.

And the next day Peter finds the fig tree shrivelled up and all but gone. Here is a parable of God's judgement acted out: we are reminded that those who know God and pledge to serve him stand under the greatest test of judgement. We are to bear fruit, to nourish those who come searching for God's grace. In short, we're called on to care, and to reflect and convey in our care the care of God for his people. If we are tempted to say, "We'll do that when the time is right, when we've got all our own affairs in order, when we're sure there is an appropriate surplus in our accounts," we are failing to serve as we are called to serve. "May no-one eat of your fruit," said Jesus to the fig-tree; a few short years after his death, the temple itself lay in ruins, not one stone resting on another.