Now there were some present at that time who told Jesus about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mixed with their sacrifices. Jesus answered, “Do you think that these were worse sinners than all the other Galileans because they suffered this way? I tell you, no! But unless you repent, you too will all perish. Or those eighteen who died when the tower in Siloam fell on them – do you think they were more guilty than all the others living in Jerusalem? I tell you, no! But unless you repent, you too will all perish.” Then He told this parable: “A man had a fig tree, planted in his vineyard, and he went to look for fruit on it, but did not find any. So he said to the man who took care of the vineyard, ‘For three years now I’ve been coming to look for fruit on this fig tree and haven’t found any. Cut it down! Why should it use up the soil?’ ‘Sir,’ the man replied, ‘leave it alone for one more year, and I’ll dig around it and fertilize it. If it bears fruit next year, fine! If not, then can cut it down.’” (Luke 13:1-9)

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     I’m not particularly into golfing. For those who are, I suppose this is an exciting time of year because we’re starting to see spring on the horizon, and a man’s thoughts (and the thoughts of many a woman I know!) turn in spring to many things – one of them being golf! I readily confess to not really either sharing or understanding the enthusiasm. I’m not quite as antagonistic toward the game as Mark Twain, who once wrote that “golf is a lovely walk ruined,” but I do understand his feelings. Part of my problem with the game of golf undoubtedly is that I’m just not very good at it. In fact, I’d say that on those rare occasions when I have golfed, I didn’t really golf. I closed my eyes, swung the club and hoped that by some miracle the club would hit the ball. Where the ball would go if by chance I did make contact was quite another story. There is, however, something that I appreciate about golf – and that’s the mulligan! The mulligan is the second chance. In a casual game of golf, when you make a bad tee shot, you’re allowed a mulligan – which is the opportunity to try again without penalty. What an interesting concept! I understand that traditionally you’re only supposed to get one mulligan in a round, but those that I’ve golfed with have usually been more generous than that – which is good for me! That makes golf a very strange game, because there really aren’t very many second chances offered in today’s world. That’s what made today’s passage from Luke’s Gospel so interesting to me. This is a passage that isn’t about second chances. It’s about third and fourth and fifth chances, and so on and so forth.

     In the last part of this passage, Jesus told His listeners a parable; one that most of us can probably relate to. A fig tree hadn’t borne fruit in three years, and its owner was out of patience. He wanted the tree destroyed, because he saw no value in it. It was unproductive, and was probably costing the owner a lot of money every year in efforts to try to make it bloom. The gardener, however, objected and pleaded with the owner for the fig tree to be given yet another chance. To whom do you relate – the owner or the gardener? I would feel much more in tune with the owner. Patience may be a virtue, but it’s a virtue I sometimes still have to work very hard at. Like most people, I want immediate results. I don’t think I could have been the gardener of this story, going to the man who was paying the bills and saying “keep trying.” After three years, in fact, I’m going to go out on a limb (no pun intended) and suggest that most of us would have been happy to get rid of the tree – probably without even a second thought. We’re products of our society, and our society doesn’t give many second chances, let alone fourth chances.

     The parable, of course, isn’t a lesson in gardening. The fig tree was often used to represent Israel. So Jesus was probably addressing a message to His followers suggesting that He believed that the religious life of the people of God had become dry and barren, just as the fig tree of the story was dry and barren. His point was probably that, while the forms of the religion (the rules and regulations) were still being followed, the relationship with God that the religion was supposed to enhance was lost. That’s supposed to be a relationship of trust, a relationship of love, and a relationship of intimacy, in which God provides everything needed for a truly abundant life. But somehow the people of Jesus’ day seemed to have lost that sense of intimacy with God, and had allowed the traditions of their religion to replace God as the centre of their life and their faith. In the parable, Jesus is the patient gardener, trying desperately to get the people to bear that fruit of intimacy with God. That fig tree can easily represent us as well, because it’s easy for Christians in the year 2010 to allow the form of religion we practice to supercede God in our lives of faith. How many people do all the outward things to faithfully practice their religion but never actually enter into a relationship with God? How many don’t even realize it, because they think that practicing religion is the same as having a relationship with God? The point is that if we have no relationship of intimacy with God, we’re like the fig tree of the parable: dry and barren and unable to bear fruit. We may do all sorts of good things, and we may follow all the rules that we think are necessary, and we may go to church every week of our lives, but we may still lack that intimate relationship with God that God wants us to have, because a relationship isn’t about following rules and doing our duty. A relationship is intimate by its very nature; it must be. A relationship is something we’re involved in every day and every moment; it takes possession of our lives; it’s permanent; it’s a part of our very being. This parable and this idea of the type of relationship God desires with us raises questions: do I have a relationship with God? Am I as dry and barren as the fig tree? Do I possess religion, but lack God? These are all valid questions to think about as part of the journey through Lent.

     The olive tree would be given yet another chance; Israel was given yet another chance; we – when we fall – are given yet another chance. That’s the wonderful thing about this parable. The unsettling part of the parable is that while God may give second and third and fourth chances (and who knows how many more) there is a limit. In fact, the parable doesn’t tell us how the owner of the vineyard responded to the plea of the gardener for the fig tree to be given another chance, but it does concede that there’s a point at which no more chances are available. The parable confirms, then, that there are consequences to refusing God’s offer of intimacy. We don’t like the idea of consequences. Too many people want to think that they can do whatever they want whenever they want and not have to face consequences for their decisions. Too many people cast God aside and don’t believe that there are consequences to that decision. The parable says that there are. That’s why we need that relationship of intimacy with God; it’s why we model it and why we invite others into it.

     Golf offers mulligans. That’s one of the great things about golf, but eventually we have to take the shot, because that’s what golf is all about. God offers spiritual mulligans. That’s one of the great things about God, but eventually we have to walk with God, because that’s what God is all about.