Exodus 3:1-8, 13-15; Psalm 103 The Lord is kind and merciful; 1 Corinthians 10:1-6, 10-12; Luke 13:1-9
As you read the readings to day and contemplate the Lenten journey, the one thing that ties them together is the significance of trees.
We have the burning bush in the first reading, a bush that is on fire yet not consumed. A tree that is burning but not burnt.
In the gospel we have the tree that is full of foliage, life, and health yet remains fruitless and barren. A tree that finds its commentary in the second reading of St. Paul where we are warned that we should be careful least we fall. A tree that is living but smells of death; healthy but barren and sickly.
As we journey in lent, before our eyes and in our heart, we picture the tree of the cross that carries upon it death and destruction yet it bears much fruit as it becomes the tree of life for all. A tree that looks like death but gives life.
A tale of three trees that invade our life, our faith, and direct us on the path of enrichment and growth and fruitfulness.
The burning bush stands for us a true sign of grace in our life. God's presence when it comes to us does not seek to annihilate or destroy. God's presence comes to illuminate and make radiant. What happens to the tree is what is meant to happen to us. We should not be afraid of encountering God; we should not be afraid to surrender to God; we should run to him with open arms and embrace the reality that we too shall not be destroyed nor consumed but shall be radiant and empowered for the journey ahead.
The revelation of God's name confirms the reality of the tree. God speaks, "I am who am" as a word of confirmation to calm our fears. He is the God who is always there no matter where there is or leads. He is the God of faithfulness until the end. He is the God who sees the affliction, hears the cries, and knows the sufferings of his people. He is intimately involved in our life, in our history, in our world. He is not distant or cold but a God of warmth and nearness.
He is the God of Abraham, Jacob, and Isaac. He is the God of the covenant, a loving God who wants what is best for us and comes into our life and fills it with purpose, his purpose to rescue and deliver and lead us to a new promise of life not bound by slavery and persecution but one of true freedom to worship and adore and live free.
A God who takes us in the ordinariness of life, minding our business, fulfilling just another days work and fills it with new purpose. He call us out of boredom into a life driven with purpose, a purpose that includes others, a purpose that makes room for those who cry out to God in affliction and pleas and sufferings. Moses' life becomes so much more upon his encounter with God. He no longer just tends to the flock but becomes a shepherd for God's people. He now hears and sees what God hears and sees. He is concerned for what God is concerned.
He escapes the prison of self-dependency; he escapes the prison of living for himself; he escapes the prison of not reaching out to his people. He is no longer just settled down; he is now living with God's speed.
He takes off his shoes; he surrenders his control. He does not try to get the upper hand with God, fitting God into his plan; rather, he lets God lead and direct. He allows himself to be formed into God's plan. He lets God invade his personal space. thus he lives a life of mission: for others and for God.
***********
In the gospel we encounter the tree that seems healthy and full of life yet has not fruit. A commentary on all of us who think we have it all together yet as we look into our life we fail to recognize real fruit.
We recognize that we have been closed to others in their affliction, cries, and sufferings. We have approached God with hesitation and resistance, taking only what conforms to our will rather than being formed into God's will and purpose for us as part of a community. We have embraced the life of independence and individuality seeking to make our own way, minding our own business and asking God to butt out.
To the eyes of the society we seem successful, daring, bold and maybe even innovative yet to the Christ who approaches there is no fruit. He sees beyond our make belief life of plastic fruit. He wants more for us. He seeks to cultivate and fertilize; he does not want us to simply exhaust the soil, the air, the breath, the life we have received and make it in vain.
Like Moses, he invites us to take off our shoes, to give up our control; He invites us to embrace him, his way, his plan, his purpose. He invites us to let him direct and guide our life.
He warns us that time is always running out. We do not have an infinite amount of time; our time is always one of finite reality. The clock is ticking and time will one day be no more. The tree shall fall...will it be because of root rot, disease, sickness, insects and parasites. Will it be because of neglect?
Or shall we embrace the tree of the cross! Will we let the tree of the cross become the tree of life, guiding us, cultivating and fertilizing our life and our faith? Will we reach upward with arms outstretched to be nourished by the tree that embraces death but yet lives?
Lent is the time to work the soil. Lent is the time to see the fruit we have borne and to be realistic about just how far we have fallen. Lent is our journey with the Christ, the gardener, who seeks to cultivate the soil of our life by means of fasting, prayer, almsgiving, penance.
What does Christ see when he comes to us? Are we healthy because of the fruit given or do we just appear to be what we truly are not?
Will we learn from the tree of the cross, lose our self and finally discover who we are called to be?
The three trees of todays readings teach us the path of life, of faith, of freedom, of hope for tomorrow and true love for today.