NRS Matthew 21:12-22
Then Jesus entered the temple and drove out all who were selling and buying in the temple, and he overturned the tables of the money changers and the seats of those who sold doves. He said to them, "It is written, 'My house shall be called a house of prayer'; but you are making it a den of robbers."
The blind and the lame came to him in the temple, and he cured them. But when the chief priests and the scribes saw the amazing things that he did, and heard the children crying out in the temple, "Hosanna to the Son of David," they became angry and said to him, "Do you hear what these are saying?" Jesus said to them, "Yes; have you never read, 'Out of the mouths of infants and nursing babies you have prepared praise for yourself'?" He left them, went out of the city to Bethany, and spent the night there.
In the morning, when he returned to the city, he was hungry. And seeing a fig tree by the side of the road, he went to it and found nothing at all on it but leaves. Then he said to it, "May no fruit ever come from you again!" And the fig tree withered at once. When the disciples saw it, they were amazed, saying, "How did the fig tree wither at once?" Jesus answered them, "Truly I tell you, if you have faith and do not doubt, not only will you do what has been done to the fig tree, but even if you say to this mountain, 'Be lifted up and thrown into the sea,' it will be done. Whatever you ask for in prayer with faith, you will receive."
There is an entire Advent’s worth of meditation on this one Gospel reading alone, out of place as it all might seem. I’m not sure about you, but I don’t think I’ve ever really attended to the movement of Matthew’s narrative. In my mind Jesus in the temple has stood as something of a SWAT operation. Part of my image is Jesus fuming off down the road to Bethany while shell-shocked merchants shook their fists at his fury. It’s hard to imagine Jesus tearing through the outer courts of the temple and then sitting down and attending to those who came to him for healing and comfort.
I’m not sure I have ever attended to the brisk confrontation as the chief priests and scribes find themselves caught between fury, fear, and frustration. Their eyes beheld the healings but they knew that the songs of children would make their way to Pilate’s ears and threaten the delicate balances they had forged with the Roman occupiers. There was no room for another King in the land, and there’s no rocket science involved in figuring out how Caesar would respond to any challenge to his authority. It’s a different, defiant Jesus who strides back to Bethany. This was no retreat.
Then there’s that whole fig tree thing…it hardly seems fair that a tree that did not bring fruit out of season would be cursed, and how this all stands as a testament to faith is troubling if you think about it too much. Just who would want mountains lifting up and getting thrown into seas anyway? Are there not some things better left to the hand of God?
So, I reflect a week late and well into this season of waiting I wonder what would happen if it were the REAL Jesus who met us, and not the one we have wrapped a little too tight in swaddling clothes, and consigned to an eternal manger. Yes, of course, the story starts there, but the season of Advent prepares us for the One who is to come, and this is One who will catch us unaware, threaten and challenge us, and even sometimes curse innocent fig trees that are just minding their own business.
I recall the nativity story from John Irving’s A Prayer for Owen Meany, in which Owen, consigned to the role of the baby Jesus but merging the part with John the Baptist, spies his parents in the audience and creaks out in his Owen Meany voice, “WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING HERE?” It’s a question that deserves some attention as we shop and wrap and deck all our halls. Are we really ready for the One we await? Take a minute before you vote, okay?
Then Jesus entered the temple and drove out all who were selling and buying in the temple, and he overturned the tables of the money changers and the seats of those who sold doves. He said to them, "It is written, 'My house shall be called a house of prayer'; but you are making it a den of robbers."
The blind and the lame came to him in the temple, and he cured them. But when the chief priests and the scribes saw the amazing things that he did, and heard the children crying out in the temple, "Hosanna to the Son of David," they became angry and said to him, "Do you hear what these are saying?" Jesus said to them, "Yes; have you never read, 'Out of the mouths of infants and nursing babies you have prepared praise for yourself'?" He left them, went out of the city to Bethany, and spent the night there.
In the morning, when he returned to the city, he was hungry. And seeing a fig tree by the side of the road, he went to it and found nothing at all on it but leaves. Then he said to it, "May no fruit ever come from you again!" And the fig tree withered at once. When the disciples saw it, they were amazed, saying, "How did the fig tree wither at once?" Jesus answered them, "Truly I tell you, if you have faith and do not doubt, not only will you do what has been done to the fig tree, but even if you say to this mountain, 'Be lifted up and thrown into the sea,' it will be done. Whatever you ask for in prayer with faith, you will receive."
There is an entire Advent’s worth of meditation on this one Gospel reading alone, out of place as it all might seem. I’m not sure about you, but I don’t think I’ve ever really attended to the movement of Matthew’s narrative. In my mind Jesus in the temple has stood as something of a SWAT operation. Part of my image is Jesus fuming off down the road to Bethany while shell-shocked merchants shook their fists at his fury. It’s hard to imagine Jesus tearing through the outer courts of the temple and then sitting down and attending to those who came to him for healing and comfort.
I’m not sure I have ever attended to the brisk confrontation as the chief priests and scribes find themselves caught between fury, fear, and frustration. Their eyes beheld the healings but they knew that the songs of children would make their way to Pilate’s ears and threaten the delicate balances they had forged with the Roman occupiers. There was no room for another King in the land, and there’s no rocket science involved in figuring out how Caesar would respond to any challenge to his authority. It’s a different, defiant Jesus who strides back to Bethany. This was no retreat.
Then there’s that whole fig tree thing…it hardly seems fair that a tree that did not bring fruit out of season would be cursed, and how this all stands as a testament to faith is troubling if you think about it too much. Just who would want mountains lifting up and getting thrown into seas anyway? Are there not some things better left to the hand of God?
So, I reflect a week late and well into this season of waiting I wonder what would happen if it were the REAL Jesus who met us, and not the one we have wrapped a little too tight in swaddling clothes, and consigned to an eternal manger. Yes, of course, the story starts there, but the season of Advent prepares us for the One who is to come, and this is One who will catch us unaware, threaten and challenge us, and even sometimes curse innocent fig trees that are just minding their own business.
I recall the nativity story from John Irving’s A Prayer for Owen Meany, in which Owen, consigned to the role of the baby Jesus but merging the part with John the Baptist, spies his parents in the audience and creaks out in his Owen Meany voice, “WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING HERE?” It’s a question that deserves some attention as we shop and wrap and deck all our halls. Are we really ready for the One we await? Take a minute before you vote, okay?
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