He noticed a fig tree in full leaf a little way off, so he went over to see if he could find any figs. But there were only leaves because it was too early in the season for fruit. Then Jesus said to the tree, “May no one ever eat your fruit again!” And the disciples heard him say it. … The next morning as they passed by the fig tree he had cursed, the disciples noticed it had withered from the roots up. Peter remembered what Jesus had said to the tree on the previous day and exclaimed, “Look, Rabbi! The fig tree you cursed has withered and died!” [Mark 11:13-14, 20-21 (NLT)]
Mark tells of a time when a hungry Jesus cursed a fig tree and caused it to wither and die simply because it had no figs. As the only destructive miracle done by the Lord, His action is difficult to understand, especially since we’re told “it was too early in the season for fruit.” The same power that brought Lazarus back to life and turned water into wine easily could have given the tree ripe figs, so why did Jesus kill the fruitless tree?
Jesus never acted haphazardly and what seems at first to be a pointless act of power becomes a living parable when we put it in context. Taking place during Jesus’ last week of earthly life, Jesus and the disciples were walking from Bethany up to Jerusalem. After cursing the tree (11:13-14), Jesus went into Jerusalem and cleansed the temple of money-changers and merchants (11:15-17). That evening, while the chief priests and scribes plotted Jesus’ death, He and the disciples returned to Bethany (11:18-19). It is the next morning that the withered tree is discovered (11:20-21). The timing of these events was no accident.
Not living in 1st century Judea, we find our figs at the grocery and know nothing about their cultivation. Because both wild and cultivated fig trees were plentiful in Palestine, Jesus and the disciples knew that a fig tree produces edible small fig knobs before its leaves ever appear. Called taqsh, these knobs are the precursors of figs and often were eaten by travelers and the poor. Even though it wasn’t the season for mature fruit, any fig tree “in full leaf” would have displayed a crop of taqsh. The absence of taqsh meant the tree never would never produce fruit. Jesus wouldn’t have cursed an immature tree or one without leaves and He didn’t curse the tree simply because it had no figs. He cursed that leaf-filled tree because it was guilty of false advertising! While its leaves promised knob-like figlets (taqsh) there were none.
Both the cleansing of the temple and the cursing of the unfruitful fig tree have to do with judgment. Throughout the Hebrew Scriptures, the fig tree is symbolic of Israel and the tree’s condition often represented the people’s spiritual fruitfulness, peace, prosperity, and well-being. The fig tree died in judgment but flourished when Israel was righteous and holy.
With its rituals and sacrifices, Israel looked fruitful but, like the fig tree, it lacked fruit—the fruit of righteousness that God demanded. His house of prayer and worship had been turned into a marketplace filled with thieves while Israel’s empty worship was a fruitless sham. With their sacrifices, tzitzit and tefillin, public prayers, adherence to the oral Law, and concern about spiritual cleanliness, they had the trappings of religion but, like the leafy fig, they were all show without substance. Both Jesus’ cursing of the fig tree and His cleansing of the Temple signify God’s impending judgment for religious hypocrisy. Moreover, the dead tree even points to the Temple’s destruction in 70 AD (predicted by Jesus in Matthew 23:38 and 24:2).
The message found in the destruction of this fig tree is not limited to the 1st century Israel; it is meant for us all. The cursing of that tree tells us that God expects His people to bear fruit. It is a warning that fruitlessness leads to judgment. Like that fruitless tree, could we be more show than substance—all leaves but no fruit?
One day, the disciples scolded some parents for bringing their children to Jesus for a blessing. After telling them the Kingdom belonged to those who received it like a child, He called the children to Him. Unlike adults, children accept their humble position and live by faith and trust. Without self-consciousness and knowing they are in complete dependence on the giver, they receive gifts with humility and enthusiasm. Like explorers, children have a sense of wonder on their quest to learn about the world around them. They are filled with excitement and awe at every new thing they experience because life hasn’t become routine, predictable, or run-of-the mill to them.
For centuries, access to the written Word of God was limited to just a few. The printing press wasn’t invented until 1439 and, at the time, only about 20% of the population could read. As a result, churches were decorated with paintings, stained glass windows, statues, carvings, and mosaics depicting biblical stories or illustrating theological concepts. For people who couldn’t read the book, religious art told the story. Consider how the Stations of the Cross in Roman Catholic churches illustrate the events of Good Friday. Sometimes, a picture really is worth a thousand words! While most nativity scenes are inaccurate, our depictions of the nativity don’t have to be historically exact to be meaningful.
The earliest known portrayal of Jesus’ birth is a bas relief on a Roman sarcophagus from around 385. It depicts the swaddled Christ child in the manger flanked by an ox at His head and an ass at His feet. Why are they present instead of Joseph and Mary? In 1223, Francis of Assisi brought some hay and a manger to a cave and celebrated Mass there on Christmas Eve. Even though Mary and Joseph weren’t present, an ass and an ox were! In 1291, Pope Nicholas IV commissioned Arnolfo di Cambio to create a permanent nativity. While there are statues of Mary and Jesus, Joseph, and three Magi, the sixth statue shows the heads of an ox and an ass rather than shepherd or angel. Besides the baby Jesus, the ass and the ox are the most ancient and consistent elements in depictions of the nativity. Why do these two animals, neither of which is mentioned in the gospels, have such a prominent place in our nativity scenes, Christmas cards, and carols?
For those of us who attend liturgical churches, yesterday was the last Sunday of the liturgical (or church) year: Christ the King Sunday. A kind of liturgical “New Year’s Eve,” it is the climax and conclusion of the Church’s year.
The attackers march like warriors and scale city walls like soldiers. Straight forward they march, never breaking rank. They never jostle each other; each moves in exactly the right position. They break through defenses without missing a step. [Joel 2:7-8 (NLT)]