Have you ever eaten a fig? I have, and honestly, it wasn’t very delicious—too sweet. overloaded with seeds and with a tough consistency, not unlike the skin of an aging person, like me. Downright seedy! (Luke 13:1-13)
I pinched the skin on the top of my hand just to test this figgy metaphor, and LO!—my skin did NOT pop right back to smoothness. It actually waited in an ornery way for me to move my hand or touch it to make it smooth again. With horror, I imagined a day when I might not be able to re-smooth my aging hand, and it would be figgy and seedy forever.
Irritated with Jesus and his dumb parabolic analogies, I repeated my skin-pinching several times. It just made me annoyed, furious, to be honest. I felt like the disciples might have felt. They were committed to following him, because he just might be THE Messiah God promised Jews and everyone. Raw deal! Damn!
I didn’t get the parabolic lesson. I hated it! What the bejesus IS the point anyway? I pinched my hands until they hurt, so I kissed them. Only then did my tears squeeze out.
How beautiful is the fig tree that ripens and bears fruit in its time—in its time. Annoyed as it gets me, I do love the subtle wisdom of Jesus’s pace in life—steady and sure and patient all the way to Jerusalem, trial, death, and risen life. I always want to push it, hurry it.
When I do I usually “trip”.
