It’s the Tuesday of Holy Week. The world feels heavy and expectant. By now, Jesus has entered Jerusalem riding on a donkey, welcomed by crowds waving palm branches and shouting “Hosanna!” But the mood is turning. The air is thick with tension, religious leaders are plotting, the disciples are confused, and the cross is looming ever closer.
And then comes a curious story, tucked into the Gospel narrative: the story of the fig tree.
Mark tells it like this:
“The next day as they were leaving Bethany, Jesus was hungry. Seeing in the distance a fig tree in leaf, he went to find out if it had any fruit. When he reached it, he found nothing but leaves, because it was not the season for figs. Then he said to the tree, ‘May no one ever eat fruit from you again.’ And his disciples heard him say it.”
—Mark 11:12-14 (NIV)
The next morning, as the disciples pass by again, they notice the fig tree withered from the roots.
It’s one of the strangest miracles in the Gospels. Unlike the others, this one seems destructive. Why would Jesus curse a tree that was, quite literally, out of season?
At first glance, it’s confusing, even unsettling. But in the context of Holy Week, the story unfolds with deeper meaning.
In Scripture, the fig tree is often a symbol for Israel (see Jeremiah 8:13, Hosea 9:10). When Jesus approaches the tree, he’s not just looking for a snack. He’s making a point about spiritual fruitfulness, about the purpose of God’s people.
The tree looked healthy from a distance, covered in green leaves. But up close, it had no fruit. In the same way, Jesus found Jerusalem bustling with religious activity, temple sacrifices, prayers, and rituals, but lacking the real fruit of justice, mercy, and faithfulness. Outward appearances, but no substance.
Jesus is after something deeper than religious busyness or keeping up appearances.
“Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. Thus, by their fruit you will recognize them.”
—Matthew 7:19-20
This is the heart of Fig Tuesday: Jesus comes, searching for fruit in us.
It’s not enough to look alive on the outside. God wants more than leaves. He wants lives that bear fruit, acts of love, forgiveness, generosity, humility, and justice. The kind of fruit that can only grow when we’re rooted in Him.
Paul would later write:
“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.”
—Galatians 5:22-23
These aren’t just nice character traits. They are evidence of a life surrendered to Christ. They are the markers of real transformation.
Holy Week invites us to slow down and look honestly at our hearts. Are we busy, but barren? Do we have the trappings of faith, but not the fruit? If Jesus came looking, what would he find?
It’s easy to get swept up in the rituals of this week—church services, traditions, even acts of service. But Fig Tuesday nudges us to ask: What kind of fruit is growing in my life? Where do I need to surrender, to let God root out what’s dead or withered, and plant something new?
This isn’t about earning God’s love. It’s about responding to it. Jesus doesn’t just ask for fruit—he gives us everything we need to grow. In John’s Gospel, on this same week, he speaks these words:
“I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.”
—John 15:5
The invitation is clear: Stay close to Christ. Let his life flow into yours. The result will be fruit that lasts, fruit that matters.
So today, pause. Ask God to search your heart. Where are the leaves, but no fruit? Where is he calling you to deeper surrender, to real growth? Pray for the courage to let him prune what needs pruning, and for the grace to bear fruit that will last.
Let’s not settle for leaves when Jesus wants so much more.
May you find yourself rooted in Christ this Holy Week, and may your life bear fruit that is sweet, true, and lasting.
We love you all,
Randy and Susan
