Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Condemning the Fig Tree

The fig tree, there, so full of potential:
you waited, thirsting for its fruit
and when it didn't bloom,
you cursed.

Natural enough, scolding something when it doesn't do what one wants.
I have a lot of those:
cursing the thing that doesn't fit,
the thing that doesn't meet my needs.

Like Moses cursed the rock and struck it until a spring burst forth.
There is a stubbornness there,
a persistence that is both holy and human,
an insistence on goodness.

Except that you forgot -- in the humanity of cursing -- your divinity,
and the fig tree withered.
Or perhaps the withering was intentional:
holy commentary on the lukewarm, the half-assed.

I should have more of those:
cursing in myself the partial effort,
the motivation that isn't what it should be.
Jesus, remind me of the fig tree.

Matthew 21:18-19; also Mark 11:12-14.

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