The Wasp by Paul Hooker

Mark 11:12-14

Monday

On a normal day a fig tree is just a fig tree.
Middle Eastern Ficus carica
grows wild where winters aren’t so bone-deep cold
and summers linger long and hot and dry.
Blastophaga psenes—the female fig wasp—
bearing pollen from a distant tree,
crawls inside the seed pod, tearing off
her pollen-laden wings, the mortal price
of fertility. She lays her eggs
and dies. The eggs birth larvae, male and female,
who dance time’s ancient dance there in the dark,
after which he dies, and she emerges
to pollinate another tree. Spring comes.
Without the sting there can be no sweetness.

This was, however, not a normal day.
That is, it was normal in every way—
the sun was climbing high above the hills,
the ancient sign of nascent summer nearing,
the dream of wasp and pollen, seed and fig—
a normal day it was…until he came by.
En route to other errands, he was hungry
but there were no figs. It was said
he cursed the tree. But tell me: was he not
a wasp to pierce the seed pod’s tomb-like darkness,
and spread his wings and die and leave behind
an altogether different sort of pollen
that yields a sweeter sort of fig? Spring comes.
Without the sting there can be no sweetness.

Paul Hooker is Associate Dean for Ministerial Formation and Advanced Studies at Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary in Austin, TX. He has spent 40 years in the ministry of the PC(USA), serving congregations as pastor, a presbytery as its executive and stated clerk, and in academia. He is the author of several works in his academic field of Old Testament Studies, and he published a collection of his poetry, Days and Times: Poems from the Liturgy of Living, in 2018. He is husband to Pat; father to Chris and Bethany; grandfather to Madison, Adam, and Eli; and obedient servant to Calder, the dog. He loves fly fishing and playing jazz bass.