Overview:
Friday of the Eighth Week in Ordinary Time
A Reflection for Friday of the Eighth Week in Ordinary Time
“It was not the time for figs.” (Mk 11:13)
Find today’s readings here.
There is a whole lot to cover in today’s lengthy Gospel, including one of the most confusing Scripture passages there is. Jesus cursing the fig tree—it is just begging to be elucidated in a reflection. What the heck did the fig tree do to annoy Jesus so much? Why does he curse it? It isn’t the fig tree’s fault that it isn’t in season! What does it all mean?!
Honestly, I have no idea. The Sacra Pagina commentary does have a pretty funny (and helpful) note, however, on Jesus’ anger at the out-of-season plant: “The effect…is to highlight what seems to be irrational behavior on the part of Jesus.” Irrational to say the least! Jesus “should have known better than to expect ripe figs at Passover. This in turn suggests a theological-allegorical dimension to the episode.” You don’t say. It means something or other about the Israelites losing their way, I think. Anyway, “it [is] not the time for figs,” so let’s change focus to the first reading.
Paired with the Gospel, the first reading provides a nice respite from its opaque counterpart. It contains a wealth of familiar, accessible lessons. Peter tells us: “Be hospitable to one another without complaining”; “As each one has received a gift, use it to serve one another”; “Whoever preaches, let it be with the words of God,” etc. These lines come mixed with some apocalyptic lines about the “end of all things” and a potential “trial by fire” at hand, but without any extended, complicated parables requiring knowledge of growing seasons in first century Palestine. Would that all of Scripture be so simple!
Progressive Christians sometimes get skewered as believing that a “just be generally nice to each other according to the cultural standards of the time” attitude is enough to follow Christ—a sort of hippie, kumbaya malaise—rather than a more radical adherence to rigid, often ascetic standards. This is, of course, a negative stereotype, but there is a kernel of truth here. Indeed, I worry about a tendency in myself to rest too heavily on the more easily accessible or simply nice sounding parts of Scripture. Am I focusing too much on God’s forgiveness, and not enough on the ample evidence of his wrath in the Old Testament—or even in the New Testament, like in the episode of the fig tree? Is my faith too casual, too accepting, too tolerant to the point of losing the character of a distinctively Christian belief? Should I be more focused on the dangers of sin, more determined to unpack the intricacies of doctrine?
I don’t know. And honestly, it can be kind of paralyzing to wonder. Scripture gives us both Peter’s epistle and the parable of the fig tree. Surely, seeking a deeper understanding of our faith is generally good, so long as we do not miss the forest through the trees. It is hard to navigate the changes in register, the seeming contradictions and overwhelming scope of revelation in Scripture, let alone from tradition or the Catechism.
Maybe there can be some comfort in that complexity. Catholicism is complicated and challenging, just as the world we are faced with is complicated and challenging. Why should the answers be any easier than the questions?
