Part 1: Fig Tree Faith
Have you ever committed the sin of rubbernecking while driving? I have! No matter how strong my willpower is, I can’t help but turn my head and look. It doesn’t matter if it’s a car crash or an odd tourist trap along the highway. My impulse to look can’t be stopped. I wish my Bible reading was more like my longing for things along the roadside. I find in the Bible there are many times I rubberneck. I slow down, taking my eyes off the road and say to myself, “Well that’s odd.” Then I continue on my way, leaving the oddity in my rearview, never to see it again. But sometimes the oddest things can be the most profound.
For years while driving down I-81 in PA, I would see signs for Uncle’s Ed’s Elephant Emporium and Candy Shop. One day enough was enough. I packed up my two boys and went to see what all the fuss was about. I never imagined we would walk into the largest collection of elephant figurines I have ever seen. Perhaps it’s the largest collection the world has ever known! But the point is, I had to stop and get out of the car. Otherwise, I never would have known what Uncle Ed wanted to share with the world.
I had a similar experience when reading my Bible. I was following Jesus on the way to Jerusalem. He stops on the roadside and does something odd.
18 In the morning, as he was returning to the city (Jerusalem), he became hungry.
19 And seeing a fig tree by the wayside, he went to it and found nothing on it but only leaves. And he said to it, May no fruit ever come from you again! And the fig tree withered at once.— Matthew 21:18–19
First let me try to place the oddity in its proper context. The day before Jesus was in Jerusalem, visiting the temple. While there He rebukes and turns over tables because the temple was not being used for its intended purposes. The temple, like our government buildings looks gorgeous on the outside. But inside is a den of deceitful sin. Jesus was rebuking the deceit of the people in the temple.
It’s not a coincidence that the next day on His way back to Jerusalem Jesus curses this deceitful fig tree. He is doubling down on the rebuke in the temple. What He is doing is enacting a parable. Oftentimes when telling a parable to the crowds He speaks it. This is a time He decides to show His message.
You see Jesus is telling me and maybe you,
“Matt. You’re no better than a deceitful fig tree.”
I admit many times my faith has been no better than a fig tree. I can look full of leaves on the outside, but I’m withering underneath. I look like a beautiful temple, but my heart is nothing but a deceitful den of robbers. Peter was ready to build Christ’s church, yet only a few verses later Jesus says to him, “Get behind me, Satan.” I’m really no different than Peter.
The fig tree mentality has been bearing fruit in my spiritual life and shouldn’t go unchecked. There are subliminal ways it’s revealed in my life. It’s a post on my Instagram with the caption “we did a thing.” It’s the beautiful family Christmas card sent out once a year. The card says my wife and I have parenting all figured out. It gives the appearance of a perfect family. Nobody sees the chaos before the picture is taken.
This is how I unknowingly live out life in the church. Maybe I answer every question in a Bible study. I sit in the front rows of a church service. I get close with church leadership to give the appearance of importance. Like when James and John argued about who would sit on the right and left of Jesus in His kingdom. Am I any different? Maybe you volunteer by greeting, serving communion, or providing the morning coffee. We are loving, welcoming, and gracious people. We say to ourselves we’re “really good Christians.” These are not bad things. However, they can be a hindrance when we believe this is what makes our faith.
But no matter how I prune my faith it’s still fragile like a fig tree. Whether it’s vibrant and full or withered and dead, it’s still fragile. My faith is never strong enough to move a mountain. It can’t guarantee to produce fruit for myself let alone my family, small group, or anyone else I lead.
Jesus points out this curse on a fig tree to point out our hearts are cursed. Think of even something grander like a mountain. Mountains are majestic, strong, immovable objects towering over towns and cities. We think our faith is like that! Yet that faith is like a grain of sand on a beach at the peril of the ocean waves. You see, I often think I’m the perfect fruit producing fig tree. “I’m somebody — I’ve done something.” It’s true I am somebody. I have done something but it’s not because of anything I did. That’s the curse Jesus is pointing us to. The same Jesus that withered the fig tree wants me to know it’s Him who decides. He determines whether my life produces fruit or not. Jesus alone makes my faith vibrant. My faith apart from Jesus is a grain of sand at the peril of His mighty hand. He simply washes it away with a flick of His finger or one word from His mouth.
My prayer is that through this odd passage Jesus will walk us slowly to our need for Him. We won’t just look and move on. We will get out of the car, sit and listen. Join me next week as I reflect on Jesus’ follow up response to withering the fig tree. That our faith can move mountains!
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