Sermon: Sermon | Lent 3 Choral Eucharist
- Preacher:
- Bob Cooper
- Date:
- Sunday 23rd March 2025
- Venue:
- Guildford Cathedral
- Service:
- Eucharist
I am not a big fan of figs. Fig rolls, oh yes, the Queen of biscuits in my book, bring them on, but figs themselves I can take or leave them. They are rather too sweet for my pallet.
Plus, I have to say that watching someone eat figs can be a dangerous activity. Allow me to explain. One of the founders of the second great era in Stoic philosophy, Chryssipus, whilst laughing so hard at watching a donkey eating figs and drinking wine, died, quite literally, from laughing too much; perhaps laughter isn’t the best medicine after all.
However, I am conflicted in thinking about figs, because it reminds me I have also got a beautiful memory of sitting on a hilltop outside Kahn Yunis in the Gaza Strip watching children playing in a fig grove and seeing their joy and innocence and cannot help but feel what that fig grove looks like now from a hill outside Kahn Yunis, figs replaced by shrapnel, fruit replaced by shells, is a chilling image.
In Luke 13, Jesus responds to news of suffering and injustice with a call to repentance, using the parable of the barren fig tree. This passage speaks directly to our world today—where suffering persists, where injustice seems unchecked, and where we may wonder what God is doing. It speaks to us personally, calling us to examine our own hearts, and to embrace God’s invitation to bear fruit in our lives.
For a moment, I would like to reflect this morning in three ways: first, through the metaphor of the fig tree; second, through the theological insights of a Palestinian theologian on repentance and responsibility; and third, through a contemporary lens, looking at the suffering in Gaza and what it means for our call to be bearers of God’s justice and mercy.
Jesus tells the parable of a landowner who finds a fig tree in his vineyard that has not borne fruit for three years. Frustrated, he wants to cut it down. But the gardener pleads for patience: “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 cut it down.”
This image of the fig tree is rich with meaning. In biblical tradition, fig trees symbolize Israel, but they also represent individuals and their response to God’s call. When a fig tree does not bear fruit, it signals spiritual barrenness—lives disconnected from God’s purposes. But notice the patience of the gardener, the desire to cultivate and nurture before rendering judgment.
I am no gardener, but even I know that anyone who has grown fig trees understands this needs patience. A fig tree requires years of careful tending before it produces fruit. The soil must be enriched, the branches pruned, and the roots protected. But there is also a limit—if, after all this care, the tree remains barren, it is cut down to make room for something new.
The lesson here is twofold. First, God’s mercy is immense, and He offers us time to repent, change, and bear fruit. Second, this patience is not infinite—there is a call to action. A fig tree that refuses to grow ultimately cannot remain.
The Palestinian theologian Naim Ateek, founder of Palestinian liberation theology, has spoken powerfully about the relationship between repentance and responsibility. Ateek sees repentance not only as a personal act but as something that must be lived out in the social and political spheres. He calls for a theology that responds to oppression and injustice, emphasizing that true faith leads to action.
Ateek’s theology resonantes deeply with Jesus’ message in Luke 13. The tragedies mentioned in verses 1-5—the deaths of Galileans at Pilate’s hands and those killed when a tower fell—are not occasions for blaming victims. Instead, Jesus redirects the question: “Unless you repent, you too will all perish.” This is not a call to fear, it isn’t a threat, but rather it is an urgent reminder that the world’s suffering is a wake-up call to transformation. Just as a barren fig tree must eventually bear fruit, so must our lives show evidence of true repentance.
How does this passage speak to our world today? Consider the ongoing suffering in Gaza. The devastation, the loss of innocent lives, and the cycles of violence and retaliation cry out for justice. It is easy to look at these tragedies and, like those in Jesus’ time, ask, “Why did this happen?” But Jesus reframes the question—not “Why?” but “What now?”
If we believe in the patient but expectant gardener of the parable, we must ask: What fruit is being cultivated in response to such suffering? Are we, as people of faith, content with passivity, or are we working to bring forth the fruits of justice, peace, and mercy?
Ateek’s theology reminds us that faith is not an escape from the world’s problems but a call to engage them. He emphasizes that God is on the side of the oppressed and that repentance means working for a world where the dignity of all people is honoured, where systems of oppression are challenged, and where we are not content to let injustice go unchallenged.
Archbishop Elias Chacour, is a Palestinian Christian, the Greek Catholic Archbishop of Nazareth. Chacour is an advocate for reconciliation, who grew up in the midst of conflict. Rather than giving in to bitterness, he chose to plant trees—literally and figuratively. He founded schools where Christian, Muslim, and Jewish children could learn together, sowing seeds of peace in a land too often scarred by division. And in each school he has planted trees, including fig trees, to say that this is the ongoing work of a lifetime and beyond.
Chacour’s work is a living parable of the fig tree. It reminds us that repentance is not only about what we turn away from, but what we turn toward. It is about cultivating a different kind of future, even when the soil is hard and the growth is slow.
Jesus’ parable of the fig tree is both a warning and an invitation. It warns us against complacency but also reassures us that God is patient, working with us so that we might bear fruit. Naim Ateek’s theology reinforces this by reminding us that repentance is not just about individual salvation but about social responsibility. And the suffering in Gaza reminds us that our faith must be lived out in real action for justice and peace.
So where do we go from here? The gardener in the parable does not simply leave the tree alone—he digs around it, fertilizes it, and gives it another chance. What does this look like in our life? What areas of our faith, our relationships, or our engagement with the world need tending so that they might bear fruit?
Jesus calls us not be barren fig trees. This Lent and beyond, his call is to take seriously the call to repentance, to justice, and to action. The world is in need of those who will plant, cultivate, and bear fruit for God’s kingdom. How are we answering that call?
Amen.