Passion Wednesday

Oh Father,

This morning as I read about your Son’s days in this last week I kept thinking about the fig tree. It may not have happened on Wednesday, but this is what I am thinking about today.

Your Son passed by hungry. He needed to break his morning fast, and in the distance he sees a tree in full leaf. He expects figs; he expects fruit.

And there is none.

No fruit hung from the branches. Appearances said something should be there. Leaves indicated something substantial was hidden in the foliage. But there was nothing.     

Not a fig.

Father, oh my heart is breaking right now. I realized many times in my life I have been like that fig tree—full of appearances, but no fruit.

Father, I pray we would not be like the fig tree on that rocky road to Jerusalem. Father, often we have showy leaves that would indicate fruit. People come to us expecting fruit, expecting nourishment or at least a refreshment.

But there is not a fig on us.

Father, this is not how you want the people who are called by your name to be.

We are to be trees weighed down with fruit. Fruit that is the produce of being grafted into the vine of your Son. Fruit that comes because of time spent in your Presence.

Father, we do not want to be the fig trees of Passion Week: trees with signs of fruit, but none to be found.

Father, grow fruit on us. Let our branches be weighed down, bent over and drooping with the weight of ripe figs.

Let our foliage match our fruit.

Amen and amen.