Getting close enough to care

Last week, I spent a brief time on spring break with a small group of Duke students, Duke religious leaders and community members, who were helping with ongoing recovery efforts from Hurricane Helene in western North Carolina. We were serving with more than 100 other volunteers through the nonprofits Lutheran Disaster Resources Carolina and Community Organized Relief Effort. We were painting, removing trash and installing insulation and vapor barriers at a mobile home park that was severely damaged.

Like many others, I knew of the devastation in that part of the state. But there is no substitute for getting close with one’s own eyes, ears, hands, nose and body. Some on our Duke team met people who lost the homes we were working on. While proximity doesn’t magically produce empathy, there’s nothing like getting close to a situation or people to better understand them and to begin to cultivate a deeper sense of caring for them.

Seeing so many downed trees in western North Carolina reminded me of a tree described in the Bible. It is in a parable Jesus tells about a vineyard owner who wants to cut down a fig tree (Luke 13:6–9): “A man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard, and he came looking for fruit on it and found none. So he said to the man working the vineyard, ‘See here! For three years I have come looking for fruit on this fig tree, and still I find none. Cut it down! Why should it be wasting the soil?’ He replied, ‘Sir, let it alone for one more year, until I dig around it and put manure on it. If it bears fruit next year, well and good, but if not, you can cut it down.’”

There are many lessons from this fig tree parable about caring, but I’ll highlight two. First, notice that it is the owner of the vineyard, not the gardener, who wants to cut down the fruitless fig tree. He’s no longer patient after three years. The owner is at a distance and when one is at a distance from a person, place or thing, it is too easy to demonize what you don’t know, judge it, and perhaps even desire to “cut it down.” The owner views the tree as disposable because he has no relationship with it.

The gardener who has been the closest to the fig tree — caring for it, pruning it, watering it, talking to it (perhaps!) — is the one who asks the owner to give the tree another chance, “one more year.” The gardener asks for mercy for the fig tree and desires to keep working with it in an attempt to have it bear fruit. His proximity to the tree causes him to see its potential. He’s close enough to care. 

A second lesson from this fig tree parable is how the owner believes the tree has worth only if it produces the fruit, the figs, it’s supposed to yield. In contrast, the gardener can say “one more year” because he cares enough to commit to more time for and with the tree. He is willing to dig around it and put manure on it for the potential of fruit. But what drives him even more is that he sees the worth in the tree for just being a tree. Even without production, the tree is still alive and has worth — why cut down a living tree?  

My time in western North Carolina combined with the fig tree parable leaves me with questions to ponder: 

How much do we care for others when they don’t produce anything that can benefit us? 

Or, will we “close the gate” between us and others so that we stay separated and indifferent?

In this season, I’m left with such questions because when we are at a distance, we may not fully understand a situation or person or tree. We can easily say, “cut it down,” because we aren’t close enough to care. In your moment of need, wouldn’t you want someone to give you another chance, saying, “one more year”?

The Rev. Dr. Luke A. Powery is Dean of Duke University Chapel. His column runs on alternate Mondays.