Wednesday, 3 April Luke 12:54 – 13:9

Written by Dr Graham Leo. ©2019.

What’s this life all about anyway? Is there any meaning? What’s the point of it all?

Someone has suggested a definition of life in seven words: Here it is, and there it goes.

In his History of Christianity in England the Venerable Bede tells a story of how the missionary bishop Paulinus preached the Gospel to King Edwin of Northumberland. The king had called a meeting of all of his elders and pagan religious leaders. After hearing the Gospel preached, one of the King’s advisors spoke up.

He pointed out that they had no certainty about what constituted life beyond the grave. He likened human life to the swift flight of a sparrow, seeking shelter from a wintry twilight. It flies through an open door into a light, warm and cheerful banqueting hall. For a few moments, it is warm and safe from the winter chills, but then it flies straight out the other end of the hall back into the dark and cold. We have no knowledge of anything outside this brief life, he said. He suggested that if the missionary Paulinus had brought more certain knowledge, then the King would be wise to consider it.

The King did consider it, and became a Christian, thus opening up the north of England to the Gospel.

The nation of Israel, just like each of us as individual people have to do, defined its existence by living within the boundaries of four basic questions:

1. Who am I?

2. Where do I come from?

3. Where am I going?

4. What time is it?

Israel knew that it was a nation chosen by God (Q1). They had come through the Exodus, a people delivered by God from slavery into freedom in the Promised Land (Q2). They were looking forward to a restored nation and a reconciled world, where the lion would lie down with the lamb and when swords would be turned into ploughshares (Q3). Telling the time was easy: we are waiting for the Messiah to bring all of this to pass (Q4).

The first two questions help anyone to locate themselves in the world, to determine their identity, who they are. The last two deal with the future, and it is these two that Jesus addresses in today’s reading.

You're good at predicting the weather, Jesus tells the crowd. You know when it’s going to rain, and when it will be hot or cold or windy. But you are hopeless at reading the signs of the present time.

You need to be street-smart, he says. Recognise when you're in trouble in time to get out of it. Sort things out with your adversary before you get to court, or you're likely to lose your shirt.

Don't imagine that you're OK because you haven't suffered some kind of bad trouble. Those people who are living in disaster zones weren't any more or less wicked than you are. They just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. You should have known, said Judith Wright, an Australian poet, that the same night that tided up those cliffs held the same question on its tongue for us. (I'm quoting this from memory, it may not be word-perfect, for you pedantic readers who recognise the poem!)

Any Jew would have recognised that a parable about a fig tree was first and foremost a parable about the nation of Israel. Israel as a fig tree was a standard symbol.

But now, in Jesus’ parable, the Master comes to inspect the fig tree and finds that it is barren. ‘Dig it out!’ he tells the gardener. But, like Abraham pleading for mercy for Sodom, the Gardener asks for more time before the judgement falls. The Master agrees, but limits the time.

Reading this parable as it would be understood by people who were listening to it then, it asks and answers the four questions:

Who am I? You are the people of God who were supposed to bring his light and truth to the Gentiles. But you have utterly failed to do so.

Where do I come from? You have been redeemed from slavery; given the blessing of the very presence of God; you rejected God for idols and human help; you were sent into exile; you were recently restored to the land, with hope for a future.

Where am I going? You are heading for a major catastrophe because not only have you failed to get it right having returned from exile, you are also failing to recognise the rescue package that God has sent to you at this very moment.

What time is it? It is the moment that the Messiah has come. You could accept him and find joy, but you are presently refusing to do so. So instead of celebrating a time of deliverance, you are about to suffer a time of catastrophic judgement.

We ought to be careful about trying to make that parable fit our own time and era. It was not intended for that purpose, and it would be very poor biblical interpretation to try to make it fit a modern day prophecy about Jesus returning – though I'm sure many will try.

What we can, and should, do with it though, is ask of ourselves the same four questions.

That’s exactly what King Edwin of Northumberland did 1500 years ago. That we English-speakers are now Christians is at least partly due to his thoughtful decision-making.

If we ask the questions of ourselves, we will give different answers from those which Israel would give, but they may be very instructive. Why not answer them now, for yourself? Ask the Holy Spirit to guide your thinking, and to help you determine where you are with God right at this time.

Who am I?

Where do I come from?

Where am I going?

What time is it?

Prayer: Help me, O my God, to ask and answer those four questions. Help me to see myself as you see me. And then help me to move to where you want me to be. Amen.