The Barren Fig Tree III

Don: The juxtaposition of faith with doubt troubles many believers. Personally, I have never seen, nor heard of, anyone wither a fig tree or cast a mountain into the sea. Such an event would surely be noticed. What could Jesus have meant by this passage?

Perhaps he was speaking metaphorically. At some point in our lives, we all face mountains of problems—perhaps these are the mountains which, with enough faith, we can remove. But the most common interpretation is that Jesus was peaking literally, not metaphorically; and that the only reason we do not witness such miracles is that we just don’t have enough faith.

I once had a patient—we’ll call her Elizabeth, 37 years old, with pancreatic cancer, unusual in a person that young. She was a devout evangelical Christian. While undergoing chemotherapy for her cancer she was also undergoing intensive prayer and faith development in her church.

After six months, she had a dramatic and, truthfully, unforeseen response to treatment. As a matter of fact, I operated on her at about that time and removed the portion of her pancreas involved with the tumor. To my surprise, and that of all her caregivers, the pathologist who examined the removed tissue found no evidence of cancer at all.

Her church was convinced that a miracle had occurred. She gave a stirring testimony on the power of faith and prayer, of which I still have a recording on cassette tape.

About six months later, a routine CT scan revealed that the cancer had recurred and had spread throughout her liver. She was of course devastated at the news, but even more devastated when her church said she must have faltered in her faith for this to have happened, that something had happened in her life that had affected her faith; and told her to think about what had happened to cause her to lose faith.

After six weeks of both physical and spiritual pain and suffering, Elizabeth died, broken hearted. She could never understand the accusation that she had not enough faith and too much doubt.

The belief is that if we had faith and did not doubt, we would see more miracles; that since miracles have occurred in the past, people then must have had a higher ratio of faith to doubt than we do. If we could reverse the decline in the ratio, we would begin to see miracles again, it is thought. But is doubt really the opposite of faith?

From the beginning of Scripture, we see the introduction of doubt. Eve doubted God, and ate the forbidden fruit. She was hardly the last person to doubt. Men and women of great faith show evidence of doubt, through Scripture. Abraham doubted that Sarah could have a baby, Elijah doubted that God could protect him from Jezebel, Moses doubted that he could lead the children of Israel out of Egypt, Job plied God with questions of doubt, Zacharias doubted that Elizabeth would have a son who would become John the Baptist. Even in the garden of Gethsemane, Jesus himself doubted whether God was forsaking him. Peter and the other disciples all doubted at some point—most famously, Doubting Thomas, who doubted the resurrection.

The story of Zacharias, the father of John the Baptist—the one destined to prepare the way for the Messiah—is a critical study in the subject of doubt. The preamble to the relevant passage in Scripture says of Zacharias and Elizabeth:

They were both righteous in the sight of God, walking blamelessly in all the commandments and requirements of the Lord. (Luke 1:6)

So they were well-credentialed. And yet, when the angel appears and tells them they are going to have a son who will prepare the way for the Messiah, they have their doubts:

Zacharias said to the angel, “How will I know this for certain? For I am an old man and my wife is advanced in years.” (Luke 1:18)

The idea that their doubt was a result of spiritual failure is undermined by their powerful spiritual credentials.

Instances of doubt are so prevalent in Scripture that, on the face of it, the implication in the statement of Jesus about the mustard seed of faith—namely, that with sufficient faith doubt can be overcome—seems improbable and even humanly impossible. Virtually every great person of faith listed in Hebrews 11—Noah, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Sarah, ABraham, Esau, Joseph, Moses, Rahab, Samuel, Gideon, David, and more—doubted at some point in their lives. So did Jesus really mean to convey the implication we read into his statement, or have we misunderstood him?

David: With regard to the nature of the mountain (metaphorical or physical) I am reminded of the faith of Fay, the extraordinary young woman who died of brain cancer just after New Year’s Day of 2014. in the month before her passing, she read the notes of the meetings of this class and exchanged emails with some of us about the topic of Evil, which was under discussion at that time. (I captured the exchanges, and the discussion, in the little book Fayth (available here). Fay drew her faith from eclectic sources—Hinduism, Buddhism, Daoism, Christianity, and more. So strong was it that she described her spirit on the eve of her death as being in a state of bliss. It seems to me that death is the biggest mountain that ever confronts us, and that Fay’s faith enabled her to toss it aside as if it had no weight, no substance, for her.

As for our doubts about miracles: Even when God hits us on the side of the head with them, as the disciples experienced, we may believe fleetingly but will usually begin to doubt our experience.

Mikiko: Jesus connected the withering of the fig tree with the quality of faith. Like the fig tree, the nation of Israel had a deceptive appearance. Its people had a covenant with God and outwardly appeared to observe it, but it was barren of good fruits. They even rejected God’s own son. By causing the fig tree to wither, Jesus predicted what the end would be like for the faithless.

Donald: Elizabeth had faith until the cancer returned. Is the difference between faith and doubt just a matter of perspective?

Michael: Doubt comes from reason, from rationality. Zacharias’ doubt was rational, scientific—old people don’t have babies! Reason is no bad, so doubt is not bad. If we threw reason out the door, where would we be? Faith cannot be a matter of rejecting reason, of rejecting doubt.

Don: I don’t think doubt is the opposite of faith. But then, what is?

Mikiko: Miracles happened in the times of Abraham and Noah, but since then we have become more sinful. We have to wait until after Armageddon for their return.

David: So many religions present miracles as articles of faith. To me, faith in miracles is different from faith in God. God is not a miracle. He—life, the universe, the Way/the Dao—simply is. To be in no doubt of that is easy (at least, to the Daoist!) But we need to be careful about what we have faith in. Faith that God will deliver a new Mercedes to our driveway tomorrow, or cure our child’s cancer, or bring peace to the Middle East, is misplaced. I think Jesus meant us to take the mountain as metaphor, not as the physical object. Fay’s self-developed faith in God/the Dao was real and true and joyous; Elizabeth’s religiously indoctrinated faith in a miracle cure was false and ultimately tragic. Elizabeth’s church and all churches that preach miraculous results from prayer and faith are stumbling blocks to their flocks.

Mikiko: We need faith in God’s kingdom to come.

Donald: We are told to pray for miracles, so if we don’t, we display a weakness of faith. If I believe that only medical science, not faith, will cure a cancer, why would I pray for a cure? But if we did not have doubt, how would we know that we have faith? Can faith exist in the person for whom there is no doubt? Does the absence of one imply the presence of the other?

David: Jesus seemed to me to say that the only valid thing to pray for is that God’s will be done. “Thy kingdom come; thy will be done, on earth, as it is in heaven.” The Daoist also believes that the Way, which to me means God’s will, will ultimately be done. There is just no doubt about it, therefore no need to pray for it. But if it makes you feel better, why not?

Mikiko: We have faith that His kingdom will come.

Don: We have probably all prayed for miraculous interventions for people in dire straits—but without success.

John: An alcoholic Vietnam vet I knew was rejected at church. I prayed for him. One day he told me he had stopped drinking. Then I saw him no more.

Donald: He had probably reached his limit and was staring death, physical or spiritual or both, in the face.

David: He had probably then received God’s grace. There are no atheists in a foxhole, when one is staring death in the face. There is plenty of evidence of God’s grace in such situations, but that is not the sort of miracle we seem to be talking about here. It is not a miracle we need to pray for.

John: What if Elizabeth’s husband was praying for her death?

Michael: There seem to be a childish faith, where miracles just fall from the sky, and an adult faith, but it’s hard sometimes to differentiate the two.

John: Faith is not necessarily fanatical. Jesus was not fanatical when he consorted with the dregs of humanity.

Donald: Perhaps we should be child-like in our faith!

Don: People don’t seem to want a God who won’t deliver miracles on demand after we have prayed properly, fasted properly, recruited people to the church, conducted all the right rituals. We’ve done our bit; now, why isn’t God doing His?

John: The Hebrew worthies had faith when they entered the furnace.

Don: They had faith that God could deliver them—but would only do so if it served His purpose. They did not expect Him to deliver or not deliver them—they believed His will would be done in any event.

David: The Jews and the Arabs probably pray with equal passion for the destruction of the other. How is God to decide which miracle to grant?

Mikiko: God’s will is what matters.

Donald: So if one side loses, we would know God was not on their side?

Michael: I think doubt is important for true faith.

Don: The doubt of Zacharias and especially of Jesus perhaps supports that view.

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