Like any good sports match, it can often be a game of two halves. This week’s passage also comes in two halves, and we may need to consider each part separately to see the overall flavour.
Initially, Jesus is being led into an argument about the suffering of some Galilean Jews at the hand of, supposedly Pilate. There had been a disturbance in the Temple, and some local Roman soldiers had been quick to respond. One of the issues was that these Jews were from Galilee, and not from Judea. Some commentators appear to suggest that the “Galileans were generally less civil“. Instantly, we can see a divide, so that one group is not part of the other. We have made our faith exclusive and not inclusive.
There was some animosity between these two groups – like we do with groups, today. Palestinians and Jews, Catholics and Protestants, Democrats and Republicans, Tories/Reform and Labour, those born in one country and those who are deemed (incorrectly) ‘illegal immigransts’. Jesus asks whether one group of Jews were worse sinners than the others? We might do that with groups that we don’t identify with. Some Jews then felt that their prosperity was inversely linked to ‘sin’. If all was going ok, what’s not to like? But, hey, if something wasn’t going well: crops, yields, income, war, then that was down to ‘sin’. It can become easy to point at something, or someone else, and cry “look over there’, rather than seek to resolve the issue at hand, with ourselves perhaps.
A recent incident where a tower near to the Pool of Siloam had collapsed and killed 18 or so people was used to question whether those who had died were great sinners than others. This incident is only mentioned in Luke’s account – no one else makes reference to it. Why is that?
Jesus was posing that question whether the tower’s demise was down to divine retribution or punishment, or perhaps shoddy building, or even natural Earth movement – subsidence? It can be hard to move away from pointing at something or someone else as the cause of our issues we face, rather than look at ourselves. If we are unable to change others but we can change ourselves, perhaps this is the message we need to hear. That is the metanoia Jesus was seeking.
As one struggling with mental health, one revelation I have discovered is that when my anxiety is high, I can start to blame others for their attitude towards me, or perceive that what they said could be construed to mean that they were negative or cruel towards me. However, ‘standing back’, reflecting upon that ‘my thoughts are not facts‘, I can now see that how I received those signals and translated them may be the cause of my anxiety.
I am not saying that what they were doing was right or wrong, but I can only make changes in myself – the metanoia starts with me.
Then Jesus seemingly changes the theme to growing a fig tree.
I have recently planted a grape vine. It stands at the far end of the greenhouse, and is unchanged from the day I lifted the soil to plant it. A bud has yet to appear. I have carefully watered it, without letting the roots get waterlogged, but mindful that it doesn’t also completely dry up. Now, I could decide that the plant is a failure, I could then dig it up and get rid of the ‘worthless’ plant. But I could also give it time, allow it to take on the nutrients and life-giving water it needs, when the time is right. The decision it makes to take on water – given that the temperature at night next week may still touch freezing up here in southern Scotland – is up to the plant. It’s that change of mind that is needed. That is metanoia – it is not repentance.
So, when confronted by the actions of a political individual who is desperate to make such radical changes to possibly benefit the rich, but claims that Christianity is key to their life, don’t store up anger for them. Transform it to how we might respond. What changes in our own life might be needed to protect our own wellbeing, look out for others, and, if we can, make changes to help all others- especially the marginalised, the poor, the imprisoned (in body or incarcerated), and the helpless – because that is what Jesus would be doing.