The Fig Tree
Mark 11
“On the following day, when they came from Bethany, he was hungry. Seeing in the distance a fig tree in leaf, he went to see whether perhaps he would find anything on it. When he came to it, he found nothing but leaves, for it was not the season for figs. He said to it, “May no one ever eat fruit from you again.” And his disciples heard it.
“In the morning as they passed by, they saw the fig tree withered away to its roots. Then Peter remembered and said to him, “Rabbi, look! The fig tree that you cursed has withered.” Jesus answered them, ‘Have faith in God.’” (Mark 11)
What Jesus did that day made me really, really mad. Yes, hopping mad! Why? You guessed it! Of course! It was my fig tree that he cursed, one that I had planted years before, and one that had never done harm to anyone. Now, the tree was totally lifeless, its leaves randomly scattered on the ground beneath the skeleton of what remained. Honestly, it felt like losing a member of our family to see that tree withered, as Mark says, “to its roots.”
I didn’t actually witness the curse that Jesus put on my tree. If I had, there’s no telling what I might have done. But in the afternoon, I noticed that the tree was dropping its leaves. That wasn’t supposed to happen, as it was springtime and the tree was newly leafed out. Its leaves should not have fallen until months later. And of course, it never produced fruit again.
By St. John Chrysostom
I stayed mad at Jesus for the longest time. It was so strange because he had a reputation for kindness and gentleness. This act of cursing my tree seemed so out of character for him. How could he do this? Why?
Your Gospel of Matthew quotes the prophet Isaiah about Jesus (Matthew 12):
“He will not break a bruised reed
or quench a smoldering wick
until he brings justice to victory.”
Could these words apply to the Jesus who cursed my tree?
Actually, they could. You see, while I didn’t know Jesus, the events of that week, the week that you call Holy Week, taught me a great deal about him. And you may be surprised to learn that I am no longer mad at Jesus. In fact, I now understand what he did and why he did it, and I cannot blame him one bit.
Let me explain.
First, you must understand what fig trees meant to us in our place and time. From the beginning, our Yahweh God promised a bounty to my ancestors, the Children of Israel. And that bounty was typically described like this:
“For the Lord your God is bringing you into a good land, a land with flowing streams, with springs and underground waters welling up in valleys and hills, a land of wheat and barley, of vines and fig trees and pomegranates, a land of olive oil and honey.” (Deuteronomy 8)
Here’s another example:
“During Solomon’s lifetime Judah and Israel lived in safety, from Dan even to Beer-sheba, all of them under their vines and fig trees.” (1 Kings 4)
And one more:
“Anyone who tends a fig tree will eat its fruit, and anyone who takes care of a master will be honored.” (Proverbs 27)
Fig trees were mentioned by prophets Isaiah, Jeremiah, Hosea, Micah, Joel and Amos. You see, we Jews saw ourselves and our nation as a fig tree, blessed by our Yahweh God, and bearing fruit for one another and for him. As much as anything, the fig tree seemed to symbolize our culture and traditions, going all the way back, in fact, to the Garden of Eden, where fig leaves were used by Adam and Eve to cover themselves in their shame.
And where does Jesus come into this story? Here is what I have come to understand about Jesus:
Jesus was at the end of his ministry here on earth. He was born to redeem Israel, and really, all of the world. You see, we had strayed from our Yahweh God, worshipping more the rituals and traditions of our faith, and neglecting the more important parts like mercy and justice. We, and not God, were now at the center of our faith.
Jesus came to re-center us. He preached, he healed and he touched, especially the weak and the outcasts. He told us to love one another, and to forgive. And he commanded us to bear fruit!
Some believed in him and followed him. But not everyone. No, not our religious leaders, the ones to whom we all looked up and respected. They were not pleased with Jesus. In fact, they were so threatened and opposed to him and to his message that they decided to eliminate him.
I thought Jesus had come to Jerusalem to confront them in their corrupted faith.
And he did, using my fig tree as a metaphor for our nation, and especially for our leaders. Like the fig tree, they looked the part, but their hearts had strayed far away. My fig tree had beautiful leaves, and so like the tree, our leaders strove to look good, impressing us with the trappings of their positions.
And wasting no words, Jesus also publicly called them out:
“As he taught, he said, ‘Beware of the scribes, who like to walk around in long robes and to be greeted with respect in the marketplaces and to have the best seats in the synagogues and places of honor at banquets! They devour widows’ houses and for the sake of appearance say long prayers. They will receive the greater condemnation.’” (Mark 12)
Jesus was saddened by their hard hearts. On the day of his arrival in Jerusalem, he mourned the city:
“As he came near and saw the city, he wept over it, saying, “If you, even you, had only recognized on this day the things that make for peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes. Indeed, the days will come upon you when your enemies will set up ramparts around you and surround you and hem you in on every side. They will crush you to the ground, you and your children within you, and they will not leave within you one stone upon another, because you did not recognize the time of your visitation from God.’” (Luke 19)
I was beginning to understand. As a people, we were not bearing fruit. And when the Son of God had come to live among us, to call us to bear fruit, we did not even recognize his “visitation.”
We, like the fruitless fig tree, had superficially looked the part. But our hearts were far from God.
Jesus again quoted the prophet Isaiah (Matthew 15):
“This people honors me with their lips,
but their hearts are far from me;
in vain do they worship me,
teaching human precepts as doctrines.”
Jesus used my fig tree to teach a lesson to his followers. They (we) must do more than look like followers of God. We must bear fruit, even out of season, when we are visited by the Son of God.
I finally understood what Jesus meant when he cursed my fig tree.
But there’s one more thing. One more really important thing about this event.
Yes, it’s true that my fig tree was cursed by Jesus, and as a result, it died. Perhaps, if we don’t bear fruit, we all wither and die.
Jesus used the death of my tree as an example, a way to teach his followers what he’d been telling them for three long years. Was it his last attempt to communicate his message?
No, it was not. As I finally understood, there was one more thing, the biggest lesson of all. The message of Jesus was so important to him, that it was worth the loss of a life. And not just the life of my fig tree. No, in the view of Jesus, there was another life that was worth losing to demonstrate the love of God.
You see, Jesus didn’t come to Jerusalem just to confront our leaders with words. He had a bigger message and the death of my fig tree was just a small example, one that paled in comparison to the loss of a much greater life.
You see, it was his own life, the life of Jesus, the very Son of God. When I realized that Jesus, the innocent Son of God, was willing to die to show us, his children, how to live, and how to bear fruit, the death of my fig tree suddenly lost importance.
As Jesus said:
“This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you.” (John 15)
We, all of us, are called to bear fruit, in season and out of season. And if we don’t, our beautiful leaves will never be enough to sustain our lives. And so, in the absence of fruit, we not only wither, we die.