“Like the Jew in preparation for Passover, we are to search the whole house (our hearts) for that smallest of indications of yeast (our sins) and remove it from the house.” The Lenten season is a time for self inspection.

Christians around the world are called to be in a time of examination for purifi cation of the heart and soul in preparation for the celebration of the Resurrection.

Like the Jew in preparation for Passover, we are to search the whole house (our hearts) for that smallest of indications of yeast (our sin) and remove it from the house.

Then, and only then, are we ready to celebrate the salvation of God.

In the gospel reading for last Sunday, we heard Jesus telling the parable of the fig tree (Luke 13:6-9).

The main question did not deal with how bountiful the leaves on the tree were, or how tall the limbs reached to the sky, or how much shade it could provide on a hot, summer day.

No, the question dealt with the fruit it provided. For three years, the man who had planted the tree did not find fruit upon its branches, so the task was given to uproot the tree because it was “wasting the soil.”

But the gardener stepped in and secured more time.

I have to admit I do like summer fruits. Nothing’s better than to be in the field picking the ripe peaches and plums.

As I was growing up, we had a couple of plum trees and a peach tree or two. The plums produced quite a bit (could almost keep ahead of my and my two brothers’ eating); the peaches were not so plentiful and were small in size.

But what a joy they did bring when they were in season and producing!

My father was an accountant, not a farmer. My mother was, well, a mother, not a fruit grower. Those trees were tended and fed by “Mother Nature.”

The trees had good soil (evidenced by the growth and the fruit) and were blessed by plenty of water from the rains God provided.

But many commercial orchards know this is the rare situation rather than the norm. Without proper care, disease will hit, insects will attack and produce will drop significantly. Without care, the tree will become barren.

This parable from Luke is a quite appropriate text to study in this season of the year.

We have the genes of growth and produce within us. All that needs be done is nurture the roots with a little fertilizer (the Word of God) and make sure it gets some water (the Living Water) and let the Light of the World shine upon it. So where is the fruit?

I used to ask that of my tomato plants many years ago — luscious green vines of great height. All looked good on the top side, but nematodes lurked in the underground.

We had plenty of good food, lots of water, and abundant sunshine but no fruit. Those plants were lucky, for a real gardener came along and identified the problem as nematodes.

A trip to the store, a little work, and a whole lot of love, and the vines began to bear fruit.

That is the joy of this parable. Yes, it ends with the warning that the “time” is coming, but it tells us that we who want to bear fruit still have the chance to do so.

The gardener is at hand; he has laid the axe aside and brought fertilizer and a spade fork instead.

As we rush toward the finish of the season of repentance, we do so with the loving work of the gardener nourishing us and working with us, so that our joy may be complete when we encounter the Gardener at the tomb and He calls our name.

Yes, the celebration comes, but first we must clean the house, absorb the nutrients, drink the Water and put on the flowers to make the fruit. Come, O Gardener, come.