There are times when, without warning or expectation, a single moment explodes into an intensity of experience that defies description. It’s a feeling of being overwhelmed by something so much greater than me, which seems to encompass all.  It has happened in nature, standing on a mountaintop, taking in all the mysterious and brilliant grandeur of the universe from the standpoint of a small insignificant point of reception – me.  It has also happened in communities with others, sometimes in dancing, sometimes in formal prayer gatherings, sometimes in sharing stories… just two people, are a gathering of many…there is this magnificent awareness that IT is all so broad and encompassing – it’s truly what I would call an embrace of The Holy Spirit moving through us, holding us, rocking us like a child.  We are swaying in the Spirit!

If there was any doubt that Jesus experienced intense feelings and emotions in His life on earth, Mark destroys that doubt in today’s Gospel (MK 11: 11-26).   While on the way into Jerusalem with his disciples, Jesus, who was hungry…

“…Seeing from a distance a fig tree in leaf…went over to see if he could find anything on it. When he reached it he found nothing but leaves; it was not the time for figs. And he said to it in reply, “May no one ever eat of your fruit again!”  And his disciples heard it.”

This passage is quite startling and has always perplexed me. I don’t attempt to try to explain what is happening here, but what strikes me is both that Jesus was hungry and could not find any figs on the tree to eat and, that in effect, He “cursed” the fig tree.
And then we have the striking (no pun intended) description of Jesus entering the temple area and cleansing it of all the mercantilism there. Tables and chairs are turned over, and the merchants themselves are driven out of the temple, BY Jesus Himself:

“…he began to drive out those selling and buying there. He overturned the tables of the money changers and the seats of those who were selling doves. He did not permit anyone to carry anything through the temple area.”
This is a meltdown!   Where is all this anger, frustration and aggression coming from?  What is the possible source of this explosion of intensity?

As the Gospel story continues, a day later when Jesus and the disciples are heading back into Jerusalem, the disciples notice that the fig tree that Jesus “cursed” in fact has withered. Jesus then embarks on a teaching on how “faith” in God can result in seemingly impossible things.   It is perhaps this closing scene of the gospel that strikes me most…

“Therefore I tell you, all that you ask for in prayer, believe that you will receive it and it shall be yours. When you stand to pray, forgive anyone against whom you have a grievance, so that your heavenly Father may in turn forgive you your transgressions.”

I wonder if the hunger that Jesus had when he reached out for the fig tree is the same hunger that drives our prayers, our petitions. If so, then we can perhaps view prayer as a longing or an expression of longing for something “more” – for a fruit that will nourish us, a gift that will give us Life!  But how many times do we sell and market our “wares” in the “temple area?”  How often do we allow the clutter of our lives to determine that which we believe we want and need?  How do we “bargain” in our personal prayer?  Yet still God seeks us always, frantically reaching out, indeed “hungry” for us!

I envision Jesus in his great hunger for relationship with us, in a fierce fit of Love, entering into our “temples” – our hearts and souls – and trying to displace or “overturn the tables and chairs” of our commerce-ful prayers, to help us to see what it is that we truly need, and in fact what we truly desire, though we fail to realize. Yes, this is the Divine Love of Intensity that so wants to be with us that it will seek to “displace” those things that falsely lure us, and that ultimately prevent us from growing our “fruit,” or our gifts.  But, because this fierce love is a gift, it will not be forced upon us, it can only be an invitation to awareness and receptivity.  Seemingly so simple, yet difficult at the same time.

Peter seems to be talking about this in his letter (1 PT 4: 7-13):

“Above all, let your love for one another be intense, because love covers a multitude of sins. Be hospitable to one another without complaining. As each one has received a gift, use it to serve one another as good stewards of God’s varied grace.”

So how do we drive out the “thieves in the temple” of our lives, or at least cooperate with God’s design to do so? Could it be by simply looking at how we pray and for what we pray?  The closing words of the Gospel mention that any efficacy in prayer is driven by intensity AND reconciliation.  Or perhaps more appropriately – Intensity OF Reconciliation.  In other words, the intensity with which we pray should match the intensity of our desire to be reconciled with each other and with God.

When we “stand to pray,” we are asked to forgive each other so that we may be forgiven. This is the Lord’s Prayer and, in that, it is the design for prayer itself.  The “what” of prayer is then “purified” by the intensity of our awareness of, and response to, our relationship with others.  Whatever can pass the test of reconciliation, forgiveness, healing, and compassion in relationship is worthy of prayer.  Ie we can begin to pray from this source of healing and forgiveness, then, as Jesus says, all can be granted. The withered fig tree will bear fruit.

As the Gospel says, “He did not permit anyone to carry anything through the temple area.” We must not try to carry anything to prayer but ourselves and others. This is the naked love of communion.  When we begin to allow the intensity of the Divine Love to permeate us, the “what” and the “how” of prayer fuse, and the indescribable healing of compassion can hold us in its maternal embrace.

We are in the Holy Sway!

Peace,

Thomas