Mountains, Figs, Oceans and Mulberries
When Mountains, Fig Trees, and Mulberry Trees Tell a Story
Have you ever read a passage of Scripture that seemed disconnected, like watching a movie with scenes out of order? Jesus curses a fig tree. He flips tables in the temple. The fig tree withers. Then He talks about throwing mountains into the sea. What do these events have in common?
Everything, as it turns out.
The Fig Tree That Looked Good But Wasn't
Picture this: Jesus is hungry, walking from Bethany toward Jerusalem. He spots a fig tree in the distance, covered in leaves. In that climate, a fig tree with leaves should have fruit—the leaves exist to protect the fruit from the sun. But when Jesus reaches the tree, He finds nothing but leaves. No fruit whatsoever.
His response? "May no one ever eat fruit from you again."
It seems harsh until you understand what He's really saying. This isn't about Jesus having a bad morning or being unreasonably hangry. The fig tree becomes a living parable about something far more significant.
Have you ever read a passage of Scripture that seemed disconnected, like watching a movie with scenes out of order? Jesus curses a fig tree. He flips tables in the temple. The fig tree withers. Then He talks about throwing mountains into the sea. What do these events have in common?
Everything, as it turns out.
The Fig Tree That Looked Good But Wasn't
Picture this: Jesus is hungry, walking from Bethany toward Jerusalem. He spots a fig tree in the distance, covered in leaves. In that climate, a fig tree with leaves should have fruit—the leaves exist to protect the fruit from the sun. But when Jesus reaches the tree, He finds nothing but leaves. No fruit whatsoever.
His response? "May no one ever eat fruit from you again."
It seems harsh until you understand what He's really saying. This isn't about Jesus having a bad morning or being unreasonably hangry. The fig tree becomes a living parable about something far more significant.
Remember Genesis? When Adam and Eve sinned, they suddenly felt shame about their nakedness. What did they use to cover themselves? Fig leaves. From the very beginning, fig leaves have represented humanity's attempt to hide sin and shame—to look acceptable on the outside while remaining broken on the inside.
The fig tree Jesus encounters has all the appearance of fruitfulness but delivers nothing of substance. It's a picture of religion that looks good externally but produces no real life.
The Temple That Mirrored the Tree
After cursing the fig tree, Jesus enters the temple in Jerusalem—a magnificent structure visible from the Mount of Olives across the Kidron Valley. The temple was architecturally stunning, an impressive sight that commanded respect and awe.
But what Jesus found inside didn't match the beauty outside.
Money changers were exploiting the poor. The currency exchange rates were predatory. People who needed to buy sacrifices to atone for their sins couldn't afford them because of the corrupt system. Religious leaders who should have been facilitating worship were instead creating barriers between people and God.
Jesus overturns tables and drives out those who had turned His Father's house into "a den of robbers." The temple, like the fig tree, had an impressive exterior but was fruitless and corrupt within.
The Mountain That Needs Moving
The next morning, the disciples notice the fig tree has withered completely. Peter points it out, and Jesus responds with words we've heard countless times: "Have faith in God. Truly I tell you, if anyone says to this mountain, 'Go, throw yourself into the sea,' and does not doubt in their heart but believes that what they say will happen, it will be done for them."
But which mountain is Jesus talking about?
He's not standing there encouraging telekinesis or random acts of landscape rearrangement. He's looking across the Kidron Valley at the Temple Mount—the very place where corrupt religion has replaced authentic relationship with God.
Jesus is saying something revolutionary: This entire broken system—the temple, the sacrifices, the priests standing between you and God, the corruption, the exploitation—all of it can be uprooted and thrown into the sea through faith.
Throughout Scripture, the sea represents judgment. Noah's flood. The Egyptian army drowning in the Red Sea. Jonah thrown overboard. Babylon cast into the sea in Revelation. When Jesus says to throw the mountain into the sea, He's declaring that the old religious system deserves judgment and will be replaced by something new: faith.
No longer would people need to travel to a physical location to worship. No longer would they need priests to mediate. No longer would they need to afford expensive sacrifices. Faith in Jesus Christ would replace all of it.
The Mulberry Tree and Ancient Pop Culture
In another passage, Jesus mentions throwing a mulberry tree into the sea with faith the size of a mustard seed. Why a mulberry tree specifically?
Jesus was referencing a story everyone in His culture knew—a Greek poem by Ovid called "Metamorphosis," featuring star-crossed lovers named Pyramus and Thisbe. Sound familiar? It's the precursor to Romeo and Juliet.
In the story, both lovers commit suicide under a mulberry tree after a tragic misunderstanding. The poem ends by saying the mulberry fruit forever reddens in honor of their death. The mulberry tree became a symbol of love lost, longings unfulfilled, prayers unanswered, and death.
When Jesus says you can tell a mulberry tree to be uprooted and thrown into the sea, He's making a profound statement: Death, disappointment, and unfulfilled longings have met their match. They belong in judgment, not in your life.
From Dead Religion to Living Faith
The fig tree Jesus encounters has all the appearance of fruitfulness but delivers nothing of substance. It's a picture of religion that looks good externally but produces no real life.
The Temple That Mirrored the Tree
After cursing the fig tree, Jesus enters the temple in Jerusalem—a magnificent structure visible from the Mount of Olives across the Kidron Valley. The temple was architecturally stunning, an impressive sight that commanded respect and awe.
But what Jesus found inside didn't match the beauty outside.
Money changers were exploiting the poor. The currency exchange rates were predatory. People who needed to buy sacrifices to atone for their sins couldn't afford them because of the corrupt system. Religious leaders who should have been facilitating worship were instead creating barriers between people and God.
Jesus overturns tables and drives out those who had turned His Father's house into "a den of robbers." The temple, like the fig tree, had an impressive exterior but was fruitless and corrupt within.
The Mountain That Needs Moving
The next morning, the disciples notice the fig tree has withered completely. Peter points it out, and Jesus responds with words we've heard countless times: "Have faith in God. Truly I tell you, if anyone says to this mountain, 'Go, throw yourself into the sea,' and does not doubt in their heart but believes that what they say will happen, it will be done for them."
But which mountain is Jesus talking about?
He's not standing there encouraging telekinesis or random acts of landscape rearrangement. He's looking across the Kidron Valley at the Temple Mount—the very place where corrupt religion has replaced authentic relationship with God.
Jesus is saying something revolutionary: This entire broken system—the temple, the sacrifices, the priests standing between you and God, the corruption, the exploitation—all of it can be uprooted and thrown into the sea through faith.
Throughout Scripture, the sea represents judgment. Noah's flood. The Egyptian army drowning in the Red Sea. Jonah thrown overboard. Babylon cast into the sea in Revelation. When Jesus says to throw the mountain into the sea, He's declaring that the old religious system deserves judgment and will be replaced by something new: faith.
No longer would people need to travel to a physical location to worship. No longer would they need priests to mediate. No longer would they need to afford expensive sacrifices. Faith in Jesus Christ would replace all of it.
The Mulberry Tree and Ancient Pop Culture
In another passage, Jesus mentions throwing a mulberry tree into the sea with faith the size of a mustard seed. Why a mulberry tree specifically?
Jesus was referencing a story everyone in His culture knew—a Greek poem by Ovid called "Metamorphosis," featuring star-crossed lovers named Pyramus and Thisbe. Sound familiar? It's the precursor to Romeo and Juliet.
In the story, both lovers commit suicide under a mulberry tree after a tragic misunderstanding. The poem ends by saying the mulberry fruit forever reddens in honor of their death. The mulberry tree became a symbol of love lost, longings unfulfilled, prayers unanswered, and death.
When Jesus says you can tell a mulberry tree to be uprooted and thrown into the sea, He's making a profound statement: Death, disappointment, and unfulfilled longings have met their match. They belong in judgment, not in your life.
From Dead Religion to Living Faith
What connects these images—the fruitless fig tree, the corrupt temple, the mountain that needs moving, the mulberry tree of death—is this: God isn't interested in appearances. He wants fruit. He wants life. He wants authentic relationship, not religious performance.
The old covenant required animal sacrifices, priestly mediation, and temple attendance. It was a system that, while instituted by God, became corrupted by human greed and pride. It created barriers between people and God rather than removing them.
But Jesus came to tear down every barrier. When He died on the cross, the veil in the temple tore from top to bottom. The Holy of Holies—the place only the high priest could enter once a year—became accessible to everyone through faith in Christ.
We don't need to look spiritually healthy while remaining spiritually dead. We don't need to cover our shame with fig leaves of religious activity. We are clothed in the righteousness of Christ Himself.
The Fruit God Wants
So what does God want from us? Not the appearance of fruitfulness, but actual fruit. Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control—the fruit of the Spirit that grows naturally when we abide in Christ.
He doesn't want us working harder to measure up to standards we can never reach. He wants us resting in what Christ has already accomplished, allowing His life to flow through us and produce fruit that lasts.
Speaking to Your Mountains
Here's the practical application: What mountains stand between you and God? What dead religious systems or mindsets keep you from experiencing His presence? What disappointments or deaths—symbolized by that mulberry tree—need to be cast into judgment?
You have the authority through faith in Christ to speak to those obstacles. Not with telekinetic powers, but with the authority of one who has been purchased and redeemed. You can say to dead religion, "You have no claim on me." You can say to death and disappointment, "You belong in judgment, not in my life."
Faith as small as a mustard seed—tenacious, refusing to give up—can uproot entire systems that stand between you and God.
Because Jesus didn't just die on a tree. He rose from the dead. The resurrection, not the cross, has the final word. Death has been defeated. The broken temple system has been replaced. And you have direct access to the Father through faith in His Son.
That's a truth worth proclaiming out loud.
The old covenant required animal sacrifices, priestly mediation, and temple attendance. It was a system that, while instituted by God, became corrupted by human greed and pride. It created barriers between people and God rather than removing them.
But Jesus came to tear down every barrier. When He died on the cross, the veil in the temple tore from top to bottom. The Holy of Holies—the place only the high priest could enter once a year—became accessible to everyone through faith in Christ.
We don't need to look spiritually healthy while remaining spiritually dead. We don't need to cover our shame with fig leaves of religious activity. We are clothed in the righteousness of Christ Himself.
The Fruit God Wants
So what does God want from us? Not the appearance of fruitfulness, but actual fruit. Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control—the fruit of the Spirit that grows naturally when we abide in Christ.
He doesn't want us working harder to measure up to standards we can never reach. He wants us resting in what Christ has already accomplished, allowing His life to flow through us and produce fruit that lasts.
Speaking to Your Mountains
Here's the practical application: What mountains stand between you and God? What dead religious systems or mindsets keep you from experiencing His presence? What disappointments or deaths—symbolized by that mulberry tree—need to be cast into judgment?
You have the authority through faith in Christ to speak to those obstacles. Not with telekinetic powers, but with the authority of one who has been purchased and redeemed. You can say to dead religion, "You have no claim on me." You can say to death and disappointment, "You belong in judgment, not in my life."
Faith as small as a mustard seed—tenacious, refusing to give up—can uproot entire systems that stand between you and God.
Because Jesus didn't just die on a tree. He rose from the dead. The resurrection, not the cross, has the final word. Death has been defeated. The broken temple system has been replaced. And you have direct access to the Father through faith in His Son.
That's a truth worth proclaiming out loud.
Posted in Faith

No Comments