The Difference Between Leaves and Life

Jesus didn’t curse the fig tree because it lacked figs. Discover the invitation hidden in Mark 11—from leaves to life through abiding.

I have loved walking with Jesus through the book of Mark.

For years, many of the stories felt like individual accounts strung together. But reading them slowly, I have begun to see how beautifully they flow from one to the next. Each miracle, each parable, and each conversation builds upon the last, revealing not only who Jesus is, but what His Kingdom is truly like.

One passage that has stayed with me is the story of the fig tree.

The Fig Tree

After Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem, He was walking along the road when He saw a fig tree covered with leaves. He went to see if it had any fruit, but finding none, He cursed it.

For years I assumed Jesus cursed the tree simply because it had no figs.

But Mark includes an interesting detail:

“It was not the season for figs.”

Why would he tell us that?

Because he wants us to stop and ask why.

The issue wasn’t that the tree didn’t have a full harvest.

The issue was that it was covered in leaves, advertising life while bearing no fruit.

That changes everything.

The Temple

Immediately after this, Jesus entered the temple and overturned the tables of the money changers.

I don’t believe those are separate stories.

I believe the fig tree was a living parable.

The temple had leaves too.

Sacrifices.

Religious activity.

Power.

Tradition.

Crowds.

Everything looked alive.

But where was the fruit?

Where was intimacy with the Father?

Where were people encountering His presence?

Jesus wasn’t condemning activity.

He was exposing the difference between appearance and life.

A Personal Awakening

If I’m honest, that realization broke my heart.

Because Troy and I spent years serving in ministry.

We loved Jesus.

We loved people.

We poured ourselves into serving the Church.

As we looked around, though, we began to recognize something we couldn’t ignore.

Much of what we had learned to celebrate looked more like leaves than fruit.

Performance.

Striving.

Programs.

Measurements.

Competition.

Trying harder.

Doing more.

Things often appeared vibrant, but something deep inside us knew there had to be more.

Before I go any further, let me say something very clearly.

I love the Church.

She is Christ’s bride, and I believe she is beautiful, even in her imperfections.

This isn’t a criticism of the Church, nor is it a suggestion that everyone should leave their church or ministry. Many people are faithfully planted exactly where God has called them to be.

This is simply the story of what God began doing in our own hearts.

Egypt Has a System

When God called us out of ministry, I thought He was simply asking us to leave a position.

Looking back, I think He was inviting us to leave a way of thinking.

A doctor friend of ours experienced something similar.

He faithfully practiced medicine exactly as he had been trained. Yet over time, as he listened to the stories of patients longing not merely to manage disease but to truly regain their health, he became curious.

Instead of settling for the only model he had known, he began asking God if there was another way.

That question transformed the direction of his practice.

In many ways, that’s what happened to us.

We weren’t looking for a different church.

We weren’t trying to criticize the system.

We simply became curious.

Could there be more?

Could there be a way of following Jesus that wasn’t built on striving, formulas, or performance?

I often described that season as our Exodus from Egypt.

What I didn’t realize was that God wasn’t only leading us out of Egypt.

He was patiently leading Egypt out of us.

The belief that fruit comes through striving.

That ministry is measured by visible success.

That prayer is a formula.

That if we could just discover the right principles, God would finally move.

Those weren’t merely ministry habits.

They were roots.

And Jesus wasn’t interested in trimming leaves.

He wanted to change the source of life.

Stepping Out of the Boat

For years, Water Walkers represented stepping out of the boat.

I believed Peter’s invitation was about confronting fear, refusing mediocrity, and stepping into the impossible.

I still believe that.

But today I see something even deeper.

The boat wasn’t just comfort.

It was every place we learn to rely on something other than continual dependence on Jesus.

Religion can become a boat.

Ministry can become a boat.

Success can become a boat.

Even spiritual disciplines can become a boat if they replace relationship.

Peter wasn’t simply leaving safety.

He was leaving every known means of support to discover that Jesus Himself was enough.

I think that’s what the Father was doing in our lives all along.

He wasn’t calling us away because He was angry with the Church.

He was calling us into deeper union with Himself.

For six years, I knew I would someday write a sequel to Water Walkers, but I also knew the roots of my understanding were still planted in the wrong soil.

Dancing on the Waves, the book I am now writing, isn’t about learning how to stay on the water.

It’s about discovering that Jesus never intended for us to spend our lives anxiously trying not to sink.

The point was never mastering the waves.

The point was never proving our faith.

The point wasn’t even walking on water.

The point was Jesus.

Because fruit doesn’t grow from trying harder.

It grows from abiding.

Are We Cultivating Leaves or Abiding in the Vine?

Not everyone is called to leave a church or a ministry.

In fact, many are called to remain exactly where they are as carriers of life.

The question isn’t whether we attend church.

The question is where we are drawing our life from.

It’s possible to serve faithfully, lead well, teach children, greet at the door, preach from the platform, or quietly sit in the back row while remaining deeply connected to the Father.

It’s also possible to do all of those same things while slowly allowing our relationship with Him to become secondary to our responsibilities.

The difference isn’t what we’re doing.

The difference is where our roots are planted.

So perhaps the invitation of Mark 11 isn’t to examine everyone else’s tree.

It’s to quietly ask ourselves:

Am I cultivating leaves, or am I abiding in the Vine?

When I pray, am I trying to get God to do something?

Or am I learning to recognize what the Father is already doing?

When I serve, is it flowing from fullness?

Or am I hoping it will earn His pleasure?

When I gather with other believers, am I simply participating in a program?

Or am I coming expectant to encounter a Person?

The answer isn’t to abandon the Church.

The answer is to bring the life of the Vine into every place He has planted us.

Because healthy trees don’t strain to produce fruit.

They simply remain rooted in the Source.

And fruit becomes the natural overflow of a life hidden in Christ.

Have Faith in God

Perhaps that’s why, after cursing the fig tree and cleansing the temple, Jesus simply said,

“Have faith in God.”

Not faith in a system.

Not faith in formulas.

Not faith in our own performance.

Faith in the Father.

Because the answer to leaves has never been trying harder.

The answer has always been abiding in the Vine.

Healthy trees don’t strain to produce fruit.

They simply remain rooted in the Source.

Maybe that’s the invitation hidden inside Mark 11.

Not to become better at religion.

But to become more deeply acquainted with the Father.

Because the Kingdom has never been sustained by leaves.

It has always grown from life flowing through the Vine.

In everything you do -eat, play, and love- may it always be Seasoned with Joy!

Let’s Continue to Go Deeper…