The Curious Case of the Cursed Fig Tree: Part Two
What I Learned About Moving Mountains
I started the day thinking about Jesus and that fig tree. It stuck with me—how He approached it, saw the leaves, expected fruit, and found nothing. How He cursed it, and the next day, it was shriveled down to the roots.
I wrote about how the fig tree was a poser, all leaves but no substance. About how Jesus used it as a lesson on faith that actually produces something. But I wasn’t quite finished thinking about it.
Because the story doesn’t stop with the withered tree.
Later that day, I came back to the passage and saw something I had skipped over before. Jesus follows up the fig tree moment by talking about moving mountains.
Wait—how do we get from a fig tree to moving mountains?
At first, it felt like two disconnected moments:
- Jesus curses a tree for being all show and no substance.
- Jesus tells His disciples they can move mountains if they have faith.
But the more I sat with it, the more I realized: They’re the same lesson.
I started thinking about what mountains are in my own life. The things that seem immovable. The problems I face that feel impossible.
And I had to ask myself: Do I actually believe God can move them?
It’s easy to have a leafy kind of faith—the kind that looks good from the outside, the kind that says all the right things but doesn’t actually expect anything to happen. The kind of faith that prays because it’s what you’re supposed to do, not because you actually believe something will change.
The fig tree was what faith is NOT.
The mountain-moving promise is what faith SHOULD BE.
Jesus isn’t interested in appearances. He’s interested in faith that does something. That produces fruit. That moves mountains.
And here’s the part that hit me hardest:
A fig tree can’t fake its fruit. It either has it, or it doesn’t. But I can fake faith.
I can nod along, say the right things, look the part, and still not believe. Still not trust. Still not expect God to do what He says He can do.
And maybe that’s the biggest danger—not being an outright unbeliever, but being a believer in name only. Having all the leaves of Christianity—going to church, praying, reading the Bible—but not having the actual fruit of faith that transforms my life and moves mountains.
Jesus’ words weren’t just about a tree. They were about me.
So today, I’m asking myself hard questions:
- Am I just covered in leaves, or is my faith producing real fruit?
- Am I praying because it’s routine, or because I expect God to do something?
- Am I living like someone who believes mountains can move?
Because Jesus doesn’t just want me to look alive. He wants me to be alive. To be fruitful. To believe that what He says is actually true.
And if I do?
Well… that’s when the mountains start moving.
