The Cursing of the Fig Tree and the Expulsion of the Money-Changers From the Temple

To avoid secret plots from His enemies and popular unrest, the Lord spent all the remaining nights before His suffering and death outside Jerusalem, in the circle of His devoted admirers and friends, but the scene of His final acts had to be Jerusalem, as the repository of everything sacred and the center of the nation’s activity. And so, no sooner had morning come than the Lord, together with His disciples, set out for the holy city by the same road as the day before, but now without any of the solemnity that, even the day before, had been more the natural result of an extraordinary concurrence of circumstances than the effect of any particular plan or prior design. The freshness of the spring morning, the purity of the mountain air, and the variety of views opening from the Mount of Olives made this journey most pleasant and easy. The Lord felt hunger and wished to satisfy it now, probably not expecting to find anything in Jerusalem except at the Temple. As if for this very purpose, a fig tree grew not far from the road. The season of figs had not yet come, but since the tree was covered with leaves (on the fig tree, leaves come out after the fruit), one might suppose this to be one of the late fig trees, on which fruit sometimes holds through the whole winter and ripens in spring amid new leaves114. And the Lord went straight to the fig tree, to satisfy His hunger with its fruit. But not a single overwintered fruit was found on the tree; nor was there any sign of new summer fruit—the fig tree was entirely barren! This grieved everyone; the Lord Himself, contrary to His custom, seemed displeased. «May no fruit ever come from you again!» (Mt 21:19), He said, turning away from the barren tree. These words were spoken, it seems, in a tone of ordinary displeasure; yet the fig tree at once began to wither, and it later became clear that they contained a curse (Mt 21:18–22; Mk 11:12–14).

Had any of today’s would-be philosophers been among Jesus’s disciples at that moment, he would probably have been astonished at the occasion. «What? To curse an innocent tree for not satisfying one’s hunger! Even ordinary sages do not act so!» But the apostles knew nothing of such philosophizing, and did not even think it necessary to ask their Teacher why He had dealt so severely with the fig tree, seemingly departing from His own former rule of patience and meekness. «If He cursed the fig tree (the disciples no doubt thought), He had reasons for it, and no doubt reasons quite sufficient and just: some lesson for us lies hidden in His action. Indeed, the fig tree fails its purpose—it bears no fruit; yet it boasts of its leaves, deceiving everyone by its appearance, as though it truly were what it ought to be. We see the like in certain people too: no figs, but all leaves! And the same will happen to them, and God’s blessing cannot rest upon them. Oh, the fig tree was not cursed without cause!»

Such thoughts could occur to the disciples all the more readily, since the fruitless fig tree had already served, and perhaps more than once, in the Lord’s discourses, as a symbol of the sinful man. The evangelist Luke has preserved a whole parable drawn from the fig tree (Lk 13:6–9). In the parable it is depicted as spared, in hope of future fruitfulness; orders are given to dig around it and manure it (a sensible image of God’s long-suffering toward sinners). Now the fig tree is cursed for its barrenness: a sign of the justice that, sooner or later, follows upon long-suffering and punishes the unrepentant. Thus the earlier parable served the disciples as an explanation of their Teacher’s present act, and this act, in turn, completed the lesson contained in the parable, showing that the time of God’s long-suffering toward sinners has its own term and end, and that impenitence, hypocrisy above all, most surely brings down heavenly vengeance upon the impenitent sinner’s head.

The Son of God, St Chrysostom reasons on this occasion (Homily 67 on Matthew), in accordance with His own purpose—to seek and to save what was lost—showed mercy, healed, and raised the dead without ceasing; yet He had to show at least once that, being the Savior of the world, He was also the future Judge of mankind, and that God’s goodness, even with His all-powerful intercession, can never turn into indulgence of wrong and deceit. And for this holy demonstration of judgment and retribution, it is not some man who is chosen, not even a living creature at all, but a lifeless fig tree—a tree which in Palestine, by reason of its abundance, had no value at all, standing by the road, belonging to no one, and, judging by its barrenness, already close, of itself, to withering away; so that its cursing consisted, one might say, more in the wondrous disclosure of a decay already hidden within it, than in an actual deprivation of its fruitfulness.

In the thoughts of the God-man, His dealing with the fig tree could form, so to speak, of itself. Now, on returning to Jerusalem, as fruitless as the day before, at His entry into it, the ruling thought in Jesus Christ’s soul was plainly the thought of the moral barrenness and hardness of heart of His countrymen—of how little they understood the time of the divine visitation, how poorly they corresponded to the love of God shown them in the person of His Only-Begotten Son! Those very men from whom impartiality, readiness for every good work, and love of truth and religion ought to have been expected—the chief priests and scribes—proved base flatterers of men, dishonest self-lovers. Nowhere were there fruits of true faith and love, and yet everything was covered in leaves: everywhere an outward piety was on display, everyone discoursed on the Law, and cried out against vice. Amid such sorrowful thoughts, there presents itself a tree that, by its appearance, promises a great abundance of fruit. «Are you too, like the synagogue, wearing nothing but a mask, deceiving others?» They come to the tree and find it entirely barren. «At least you will serve as a lesson to others; I will show, in you, how evil hypocrisy is (against hypocrites the Lord always rose up with particular force): from now on may no fruit ever come from you again!»

On entering the city, the Lord went straight to the Temple. The feeling of holy indignation, roused by the thought of the hypocrites figured in the fig tree, had not yet entirely subsided, when a new object presented itself, capable of stirring righteous anger in anyone who had even the slightest zeal for the glory of the God of Israel. The outer courts leading into the Temple, instead of being filled with worshippers, were filled with money-changers, some of whom sold articles connected with worship115, others of whom exchanged foreign coin for Jewish currency116. The great number of sellers, the still greater number of goods for sale, the tables of money, the stalls for the sellers, sacrificial animals of every kind117, bargaining, disputes, cheating, quarrels—all of this made the Court of Solomon the most disorderly and noisy place in all Jerusalem. And it was precisely this court that had, from ancient times, been set aside for the entry and prayer of the Gentiles, who were not permitted to go further!.. The consequence of this disorder was that a thoughtful Greek or Roman, drawn by the heart’s own impulse to Jerusalem and to Solomon’s Temple, had, instead of edification, to endure here the noise and every inconvenience of the marketplace! Is it any wonder if, in such a case, instead of reverence for the God of Israel, ill thoughts about His worship and His ministers involuntarily arose in him? In this way the most holy name of God was blasphemed among the nations because of Israel itself!

It was not lack of space that led to part of the Temple being turned into a marketplace. Below, at the foot of the hill on which the Temple stood, and beyond its enclosure, there remained ample empty space where the money-changers could have set themselves up. But there it was less profitable, for the fee charged by the Temple elders for the right to trade was not so high; and in this alone lay the whole matter. Greed was the soul of the disorder, which, enjoying the protection of the leaders themselves, had grown to the highest degree, though all the better people had long been displeased with it.

Jesus Christ, at the very beginning of His ministry, at the first Passover, had already acted against the trading in the Temple and driven the money-changers out of it (Jn 2:14–16). Now this was still more necessary. Having allowed Himself to be publicly called the Son of David, that is, the Messiah, He had, by that very fact, taken upon Himself, before the people, an obligation to rise up against the disorders that had crept into worship, since everyone believed and expected that one of the chief acts of the future Messiah would be to correct worship and restore ancient piety and order. Besides, the disorder was so great, and so weighty in its consequences, that it cried out against itself.

Holy zeal seized Jesus’s heart! With the bearing of God’s Messenger, and in that voice before which sinners and hypocrites always trembled, He demanded that the court be cleared at once. The disciples, the onlookers, the inhabitants of Jerusalem, the foreigners—all approve the demand; the money-changers themselves cannot but feel that they have strayed into a place not their own—and silently obey. Some delay, wishing to stand their ground, but only provoke the people the more, who take the Son of David’s command for a command from God Himself. Within minutes the animals are driven out, the tables and seats overturned, the money-bags thrown out; everything took on a new and better appearance, and in place of the former tumult came stillness and order. Good order was carried so far that no one was now permitted to carry any object whatever through the court (Mk 11:16). To this act—for the instruction of those who did not understand it—a teaching was joined as well. «Is it not written — the Lord said — that My house will be called a house of prayer for all the nations? But you (with your greed) have made it a den of robbers!» (Mk 11:17)

To one who had ears to hear, these words of the prophet (Is 56:7; Jer 7:11), quoted by the Savior, had to work most powerfully. In them was disclosed the true point of view from which to regard both the disorder permitted by the chief priests and the Son of David’s zeal against it. To be a house of prayer for all nations—this was the loftiest purpose of the Jerusalem Temple, one that its very founder, Solomon, had already had in view. This Temple was meant to be, so to speak, universal, where all the lofty and good souls of the ancient world might find a refuge, seeking, in Plato’s phrase, the one Father of nature and of men. After the Babylonian captivity this purpose was all the more needed, and all the more readily and fully attainable, because, as the intellectual powers of the human race developed, polytheism began to disappear of itself, and among all nations, especially the Greeks and the Romans, ever more people appeared demanding the worship of the One. Many of the Gentiles, therefore, came to Jerusalem, wishing to witness Jewish worship; and many even converted to Judaism. In such a state of affairs, how much good order in the Jewish Temple would have meant! And how important was the Court of Solomon, set apart for the Gentiles! If the Queen of Sheba felt great respect for Solomon on witnessing the good order and discipline that prevailed at his court, what a beneficial effect the rites of Hebrew worship might have had on the heart of a Gentile, had everything in the Temple been carried out according to the institution and in the spirit of Moses, Solomon, and Ezra! But all these majestic rites had been lost from view: the ignorance and self-interest of the chief priests had perverted and debased everything, and the house of universal prayer had come to resemble a den of robbers!..

Of those who heard the Lord, probably few could fully grasp His lofty thoughts on the Temple’s true purpose; yet all listened to Him with particular attention (Lk 19:48), and felt an ever-growing devotion to Him, as if sensing that the divine Lamp had not long left to burn upon its stand. All the longer, no doubt, were the Lord’s discourses, He who always made use of His hearers’ goodwill to work upon their mind and heart. Before, He could not speak of many things—at least, not of everything; now, so to speak, at the very foot of His cross, He could freely tell the people all that it was needful and beneficial for them to know.

As evening drew on, the Lord withdrew again to Bethany.

The next day, as Jesus Christ was returning with His disciples to Jerusalem, the cursed fig tree had already completely withered. This sight struck the disciples powerfully, Peter especially, who had apparently taken the Teacher’s words to the fig tree not for a decisive curse but for an expression of mere displeasure. «Rabbi»—he cried out—«look! The fig tree You cursed has already withered!» The Teacher gave no sign that Peter’s remark pleased Him; on the contrary, He at once made it understood that for men appointed to act in the name of God Himself for the good of all mankind (such as the apostles were), events of this kind, which so powerfully strike the imagination of sensuous men, ought not to seem of any special weight, but ought to appear, as it were, natural and ordinary. «Have»—the Lord said—«faith in God (perfect and entire)! Truly I tell you: if you have faith and do not doubt, not only will you do what was done to the fig tree (what had been done to the fig tree) but even if you say to this mountain (before the disciples’ eyes was the Mount of Olives): be lifted up and cast into the sea, it will be done. And whatever you ask in prayer, believing, you will receive» (Mt 21:21–22; Mk 11:23–25). (Was it not, among other things, precisely for this—to show His disciples, by experience, the power of faith—that the fig tree was cursed? The God-man, knowing His disciples perfectly, could not but foresee that the fulfillment of the curse upon the fig tree would astonish them, and would give Him occasion to impart to them, by means of this event, an unforgettable lesson in faith.) But you must know for certain, the Lord added, that in coming to such prayer you must forgive whatever grievance you hold against anyone; otherwise the Heavenly Father, too, will not forgive you your sins, and without this forgiveness your prayers can have no power at all (Mk 11:25–26).

This last instruction, seemingly quite unexpected, was most timely for the disciples, who had great need of it, and precisely now. For, for all the goodness of their hearts, there was not yet in them that disinterestedness and self-denial so necessary for men appointed to be the direct heralds of the will and ways of Providence, and, by virtue of this appointment, to hold power to command the forces of nature. To them, for instance, it still seemed a praiseworthy thing to call down fire from heaven to destroy whole villages, for the sole reason that their inhabitants had not shown due respect to the Teacher and to themselves (Lk 9:54). In such a disposition of mind, the disciples’ misunderstanding of their Teacher’s act with the fig tree the day before might have strengthened in them the wrong and unworthy notion that God’s Messenger has the right to use the gift of miracles for His own personal motives, and even to avenge Himself on His enemies. All the more necessary was it to remind them that faith without love means nothing, whether in any man, or especially in God’s Messenger. The disciples, no doubt, understood the drift of the instruction on forgiving offenses. Meanwhile, this instruction is most useful to us too, even now, in that it decisively shows in what disposition of spirit the fig tree was cursed. Had this been an act of personal displeasure, He who did it would not have gone on, on this same occasion, to discourse on magnanimity and love for enemies.

The disciples were silent, notwithstanding that the promise their Teacher had just given was even more wondrous than His act with the fig tree; they were silent because the Lord spoke with such particular assurance, and because the wonders already seen in His deeds had long disposed them to believe unquestioningly every wonder in His words. Truly wondrous indeed! To promise a man that he would move mountains with a single word!.. Such a promise would have to be taken for some figure of speech, even for fancifulness, had it not been given by Him whose words are «yes and amen» (2Cor 1:20). And yet so astonishing a promise was given not to the apostles alone, but to all—to all believers indeed! We shall see how, on another occasion, it will be stated decisively that every true follower of Jesus will not only do what He did (such wonders as His), but even greater things (Jn 14:12). A resolve truly divine! False teachers do not act so: the false prophet of Arabia by every means shrank from the duty of working any miracle; the divine Founder of Christianity not only worked wonders Himself without ceasing, but even promised the gift of wonder-working to all His followers! He promised it, and fulfills it in very deed. The history of the holy men who have shone in piety is at the same time a history of wonders: some of them indeed performed miracles more numerous than those of the Gospel.