12 The next day as they were leaving Bethany, Jesus was hungry. 13 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. 14 Then he said to the tree, “May no one ever eat fruit from you again.” And his disciples heard him say it. […] 19 When evening came, Jesus and his disciples[e] went out of the city. 20 In the morning, as they went along, they saw the fig tree withered from the roots. 21 Peter remembered and said to Jesus, “Rabbi, look! The fig tree you cursed has withered!”
5th March 2025: Horsham
(Published here on 30th April 2025)
Yesterday, I pointed out a literary device which appears in Mark’s gospel which we call the ‘Markan Sandwich’. This device brings two separate stories together with a common theme (the Markan Sandwich is explained here). In this case, the two stories are the cursing of the fig tree, and the story of Jesus clearing the temple. In this post I’m concentrating on the story of the fig tree.
At first glance, this is a rather strange story. Christ’s actions feel jarringly out of character. We see Jesus ‘using his power to blast a tree which had disappointed him when he was hungry.‘ (Barclay, Loc 5466). This seems particularly harsh on the tree because Mark tells us that figs were not in season. More than ever, we really need some context!
Setting the Scene: It’s early morning. Jesus has spent the night in Bethany, a few miles from Jerusalem, and is making his way to the city where he will visit the Temple. He’s hungry. Whilst figs are not in season, the fact that the tree is in leaf means that it would normally offer some immature edible fruits. These fruits are actually buds called ‘breba or taqsh’ which appear with the first leaves of the spring but don’t develop into fruits. There were no taqsh. The tree looks as if it will serve Christ’s needs. It does not.
The Curse: The ‘curse’ which Jesus places upon the tree is this. “May no one ever eat fruit from you again.” (v14). The incident is reported in Matthew 21. Whilst there are some textual variations in the Greek, in essence the same words are reproduced. This might sound like an expression of anger, but in truth, it is a clear statement of condemnation. Matthew says that the impact was immediate. Mark tells us that the disciples noticed the dead tree at the end of same day. The fact is that the tree rapidly – supernaturally – withers and dies. Yet why, we still want to ask, did Jesus say this to a fig tree?
The Fig Tree: The fact that this is a fig tree is significant. When the twelve explorers were sent by Moses from the wilderness into the Promised Land, they found wonderful things. One of the key things they reported finding was fig trees (Numbers 13:23. Deuteronomy 8:7-9 Fig trees, along with vines, are slow growing. They become identified with peace, stability and safety. In Scripture, the fig tree comes to symbolise Israel itself.
“When I found Israel,
it was like finding grapes in the desert;
when I saw your ancestors,
it was like seeing the early fruit on the fig tree.
The End Piece: Here, then, we have an image of Jesus coming to a fig tree, symbolic of the nation of Israel. The fig tree is in leaf. It looks healthy. It looks productive. It looks as if it is fulfilling it’s purpose. Yet at the moment when the Messiah comes, it is found wanting.
There is a warning for us all here. The symbolism is simple. At the moment when the Messiah comes, Israel itself is found wanting.
“You also must be ready, because the Son of Man will come at an hour when you do not expect him.” (Luke 12:40)
Richard Jackson, West Sussex: LifePictureUK




A few days after this exuberant scene, Jesus is arrested, tried and crucified. To us, his death, and the resurrection to come, affirm that He is the Messiah. His journey leads to seismic, universal and eternal change. Light overcomes darkness. The veil over God’s sanctuary is torn. Good triumphs over evil. Life is victorious over death.
The word ‘colt’ can refer to a young horse or a young donkey. Matthew’s version of this story tells us that the ‘colt’ in question was a donkey (
The unthinkable happens. Jesus stops in this busy street and tells someone, I’d like to think it’s James or John, to bring the beggar to him. Throwing aside the tools of his trade, Bartimaeus allows himself to be led to Jesus. Then something even more extraordinary happens.
‘When you come into your glory,’ they ask ‘let us take up position as your closest advisors, seated at your right and your left.’ It sounds incredibly presumptuous. It sounds incredibly prideful. Could they drink the cup he has to drink? Could they face the same baptism? These words mean, could you go through what I have to go through? James and John say yes. These are the men who can’t believe that Jesus is facing imminent death, yet they believe they can walk his path, every step of the way.
I sent my first Valentines Card to a girl in my class at school who I really liked when I was about twelve years old. It was probably one of the most terrifying things I have ever done. Actually buying the card was terrifying enough, but the act of delivering it was even worse. My heart racing, I grabbed the opportunity to drop the card unnoticed into her schoolbag before lessons started whilst she was talking to her friends on the other side of the classroom. I had no idea what was supposed to happen next. Following convention, I had written her name in the card but signed it simply as ‘Your Valentine’. I still remember a sense of disappointment, tinged by a degree of relief, when she opened the card and told her friends that it had come from another boy in my class called Gary White. I’m not sure how Gary felt about it, but I never owned up. In the unlikely event that she remembers that moment, I guess that she probably still believes that Gary White was her first Valentine!