Down in the depths of the human psyche, dissatisfaction happens when we see the
disparity of the world as it is and at the same time know what it really ought to be. The
fig tree has beautiful, bountiful large green leaves…but no fruit grows on its branches,
Jesus discovered (Mark 11:13-14). The Jerusalem temple is built with beautiful
massive stones that suggest a huge impressive engineering feat of holy architecture,
but inside it has become a rotten money-making marketplace; according to Jesus, it
had become a “den of thieves” that contradicted its spiritual purpose (Mark 11:17). We
live in a land where our national creed says that all people are created equal and are
endowed by their Creator with inalienable rights…yet we are bedeviled by inequality,
the disparities of privilege, and social unrest. So we should welcome a spirit of
dissatisfaction that creeps into both our national pride and religious consciousness
with a sharp twinge to the conscience. Do our deeds match our creeds, religiously and
socially?
Jesus asks the fig tree, “Where is the fruit?” He asks the temple priests, “Where is the
repentance?” He asks of us, “Where is your trust?” Trust becomes manifest in prayer,
Jesus teaches his disciples (Mark 11:22-25).
Contrary to some strains of religious piety, I think it is true that doubt protects our faith
and guilt protects our goodness. Both guilt and doubt are uncomfortable and tricky to
deal with, but they are part of the prayerful wrestling that needs to happen when we
see and are troubled by the distance between what is and what ought to be. At a time
when the assertion of “fake news” rankles the idea of objective truth and permissive
ethics obscures the reality of sin, both doubt and guilt are welcome components of our
daily walk with Jesus. How can we know the truth, and how can we aspire to
goodness? Both sanity and serenity are at issue here, and personal integrity hangs in
the balance.
Much ink has been spilled in the past century by theologians searching for the
“historical Jesus” in an academic attempt to question the accuracy of his words and
deeds as conveyed by the gospel writers (cf the “Jesus Seminar”). This isn’t too
different from the quest of the chief priests, teachers of Torah and elders (Mark
11:27-28) who ask “By what authority do you do these things?” (like cleanse the
temple & curse a fig tree—an enacted parable). Jesus, by what authority do you
command our conscience and invite our trust? The story of Lent centers on Jesus’
integrity as it is established by his suffering. He “pays his dues” in the face of the
religious authorities who plot his death (Mark 11:18). His authority is embedded in his
life.
In typical hyperbolic fashion Jesus suggests that trustful prayer can “move mountains”
(Mark 11:23—possibly the Mount of Olives, where Jesus prays; Gethsemane is on the
lower slope of the Mount, just outside Jerusalem across the Kidron Valley from which
point the Dead Sea is visible). We fallible humans are tempted to turn our
dissatisfactions into huge barriers—"turning mole hills into mountains”—to excuse any
focused and promising effort to alleviate the problem. So move the mountain because
it obscures reality, the reality of our relationship to God established by Jesus. The
spiritual task of prayer is to counter inertia by leveling things out, to make the path to
“what ought to be” plain and clear and approachable with human effort. Move the
mountain out of the way, for with God all things are possible. Didn’t the Gospel of
Mark begin with the call of John the Baptizer to level the highway out in the wilderness
for the Messiah to come (Isaiah 40:3-5)? Make his path plain! Live for what ought to
be. Christians, like our Jewish partners, are to be a light to the nations, united in
prayer, living for the truth of the gospel covenant, and not allowing the mountain of evil
to outweigh the good, even when faced with a cross. So, just what is our mountain?
Is it in the Way of our faith? Move it!
Pray…and sing: (WOV #754)
Let us talents and tongues employ, reaching out with a shout of joy:
Bread is broken, the wine is poured, Christ is spoken and seen and heard.
Refrain: Jesus lives again, earth can breathe again pass the word around: Loaves abound!
Christ is able to make us one, at the table he sets the tone,
Teaching people to live to bless, love in word and in deed express. Refrain.
Jesus calls us in, sends us out. Bearing fruit in a world of doubt,
Gives us love to tell, bread to share: God (Immanuel) everywhere! Refrain.
The Rev. Joel Nickel, STS
Artist