From Mark 10: 12-14 (Revised English Bible):
On the following day, as they left Bethany, [Jesus] felt hungry, and, noticing in the distance a fig tree in leaf, he went to see if he could find anything on it. But when he reached it he found nothing but leaves; for it was not the season for figs. He said to the tee, 'May no one ever again eat fruit from you!' And his disciples were listening.
Seems pretty harsh, don't you think? After all, it wasn't even the season for figs! Where's all that compassion and grace stuff? Should one read this literally (please don't), one might see an arbitrary, capricious Jesus, willing to destroy that which is unpleasing at any given moment regardless of circumstance. Certainly would reinforce certain right-wing readings of the Bible, wouldn't it. We could, however, as an alternative, read this passage, within the larger narrative framework of Jesus coming to Jerusalem, and consider what it might be telling us symbolically. Or are we to suppose that the Gospel writer was either too stupid or too ignorant to understand the power of metaphor?
Here is how I read this short passage, as disturbing as it may be. First, one can consider it in light of the parables told in St. Matthew's and St. Luke's Gospels of the wedding feast, in which invitations are sent far and wide and summarily ignored; the groom sends his servants to bring in any and all, and casts out from his fellowship those who were invited but refuse to come. Seen in light of this parable, this story of the withering of the fig tree is another way of saying that Jesus comes to us in his own time, on his own terms, and we have to be ready to respond to that call, whatever and whenever it might be.
Second, we can consider the story in light of the week's events themselves. Jesus has come to Jerusalem to confront the religious and political establishment head-on. He is offering them, and the people, an opportunity, a chance to move away from both the Scylla of violent confrontation with Rome and the Charybdis of supine accommodation to Rome through living a life dedicated to loving community. A people paralyzed between the two extremes mentioned above, however, whose leadership seems to see no way out cannot see the offer for what it is. Jesus comes, and the leaders are not ready. The curse is the result of the refusal to see that the Lord has come and is calling his people to a new way of life; stuck within what is understood to be a natural cycle (it isn't fig season), they cannot hear the call because "the time isn't ripe" as it were (to extend to fruit metaphor a bit).
Judgment is always part of the message of Jesus; even us United Methodists, in love with John Wesley and Charles Wesley and Albert Outler, recognize the fact that grace and judgment are two sides of the same coin. You can't have one without the other. The curse of judgment, indeed, comes in the exact same moment that grace is offered. We see and hear, in the words "Your sins are forgiven", the recognition of the reality of our sin, and what it means that our sins need to be forgiven. As we move from Palm Sunday to Good Friday, it might be necessary to remember that no one wants to hear the curse of judgment. We want to have our good feelings about ourselves reinforced, not those parts of us we would rather hide and cover over exposed for all the world to see. If we are uncomfortable with Jesus cursing the fig tree, perhaps it is because we, too, are not yet in season, but are hearing a call from our Lord to serve.
