A Journey Through the Heart: Meditating on Mark 11:11–23
The Gospel Reading for Reference
The Exploration
Praise to the Lord
My Prayer for you
Mark 11:11-23
At that time, Jesus entered Jerusalem, and went into the temple; and when he had looked round at everything, as it was already late, he went out to Bethany with the twelve.
On the following day, when they came from Bethany, he was hungry. And seeing in the distance a fig tree in leaf, he went to see if he could find anything on it. When he came to it, he found nothing but leaves, for it was not the season for figs. And he said to it, "May no one ever eat fruit from you again." And his disciples heard it.
And they came to Jerusalem. And he entered the temple and began to drive out those who sold and those who bought in the temple, and he overturned the tables of the money-changers and the seats of those who sold pigeons; and he would not allow any one to carry anything through the temple. And he taught, and said to them, "Is it not written, 'My house shall be called a house of prayer for all the nations'? But you have made it a den of robbers." And the chief priests and the scribes heard it and sought a way to destroy him; for they feared him, because all the multitude was astonished at his teaching. And when evening came they went out of the city.
As they passed by in the morning, they saw the fig tree withered away to its roots. And Peter remembered and said to him, "Rabbi, look! The fig tree which you cursed has withered." And Jesus answered them, "Have faith in God. Truly, I say to you, whoever says to this mountain, 'Be taken up and cast into the sea,' and does not doubt in his heart, but believes that what he says will come to pass, it will be done for him."
Jesus enters into Jerusalem and goes to check on the temple.
Finding nothing of immediate concern, He withdraws and enters into rest at Bethany.
This quiet moment—easy to overlook—holds a deep truth.
A soul passing through the battleground of the world—the city of the flesh, the noise of the mind, the distractions of daily life—will eventually return to peace.
When the temple—the heart—is in order, the soul can rest.
Even Jesus shows this: He does not rush. He visits. He inspects. He waits.
And we are told: “It was already late.”
Late—but not too late.
That’s the message.
It is never too late to examine the heart. Never too late to return to God.
He shows us what calm vigilance looks like. When the temple is clean, we can rest.
For those early in the journey—and for the seasoned ascetic alike—this is a gift:
True rest precedes true hunger.
Only in stillness does the appetite for righteousness awaken.
The Next Morning: Hunger Arises
After resting in Bethany, Jesus becomes hungry.
Not for food—but to reveal something essential.
Just as in us—after true rest, hunger arises.
We begin to feel spiritual hunger.
“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness…” (Matt. 5:6)
This is the hunger that wakes us up on Monday morning. The hunger that moves us after Sabbath. The desire to grow, to change, to seek fruit.
And so, He approaches a fig tree.
It has leaves—an outward appearance of life.
But no fruit.
He curses it.
Not because it was the wrong season, but because it had the form of life without its purpose.
It deceived the eye but failed to feed the soul.
It was, in truth, fruitless—and that made it dangerous.
We must ask ourselves:
What in our lives appears full of life, but offers no spiritual nourishment?
What thoughts, habits, or pursuits bear leaves but no fruit?
Even Christ approached it, looked, and judged.
So too must we. Not out of condemnation—but out of clarity.
Not all that looks alive is life-giving. And not all that is “not yet fruitful” is worth keeping. Some trees are only “not fruitful yet,” but others are withered at the root.
He shows us what repentance looks like—not regretful hesitation, but a decisive turning.
If something proves fruitless, we must ask the Lord to root it out.
Not in a vengeful spirit—but with the full understanding that only what bears fruit in love and truth is worth keeping.
And note this:
The fig tree was judged not for being barren in its proper season, but for pretending it was full while bearing nothing.
So too, if we cloak ourselves in leaves but withhold love, we risk the same fate.
The curse is not from an angry God, but from a soul that refuses grace.
What Christ curses, in truth, is the lie.
And when we do not receive the fruit He’s already offered, we curse ourselves.
The Temple: A Cleansing Descent
Next, Jesus returns to the temple.
This descent from the hillside of Bethany into the chaos of Jerusalem is a descent into the battleground of the heart.
We have left rest. We have awakened spiritual hunger. And now, we must confront what lies within.
But this time, the temple is overrun with thieves.
Just like a man who casts out a spirit but leaves the house empty—only for worse spirits to return—so too the heart, once cleansed but unguarded, can fall into corruption.
Christ does not tolerate this.
He overturns the tables.
He casts them out.
And—importantly—He forbids anyone to carry anything through the temple.
This is no small detail.
It teaches us: when entering into the holy place—into prayer, into silence, into communion—we must carry nothing with us.
Not our anger.
Not our anxiety.
Not our ambition.
“My house shall be called a house of prayer.”
But we have made it a market.
We bargain with God. We carry the world into His presence.
We do this not only in our churches, but in our homes, in our own hearts.
Still, He is merciful.
When we ask Him to carry our burdens, He does.
But when we try to carry them into sacred space—He removes them.
He purifies us as He purifies the temple.
Let Him.
The Resistance: When Evil Is Confronted
As always, when evil is expelled, it resists.
The scribes and Pharisees—representing pride, envy, fear—seek to destroy Him.
Because the truth doesn’t just correct lies.
It kills them.
The teachings of Christ are not just wise—they are lethal to every falsehood.
So the proud cling to their old ways. And others, hearing truth, begin to follow Him.
This is why Jesus says: “Whoever is not with Me is against Me.”
There is no neutral ground when the soul is at war.
The Next Morning: The Withered Tree
And now, they pass the fig tree again.
It is withered to the root.
What once deceived now lies exposed.
It is the natural result of faith-filled repentance.
As they’ve walked with Christ—from rest, to hunger, to descent, to confrontation—they now see the fruits of faith.
The fig tree is a mountain.
A false pursuit. A lie. A fruitless distraction.
And with faith, Jesus says, even mountains can be cast into the sea.
These are not vague metaphors.
This is the spiritual life.
We come to rest.
We awaken hunger.
We confront corruption.
We suffer resistance.
And finally—by faith—we witness the fruitless things in us wither away.
And as Peter did, we rejoice.
Final Reflection:
You do not need to have it all figured out.
You only need to follow Him.
Let Him lead you to Bethany, to rest.
Let hunger arise naturally.
Let Him show you what is fruitless, and help you let it go.
Let Him cleanse your temple.
Let Him carry what you cannot.
Let the lies wither.
And when you return to the battlefield again—because you will—there will be one less fruitless fig tree in your heart—less weeds in an already beautiful garden.
And more room for love to grow.
Glory to God for allowing me to partake in this joyous exploration. If there is wisdom, it is not mine, but His.
Glory to You, Our God, for Truth
Glory to You, Our God, for Understanding
And Glory to You, Our God, for the opportunity to create, and for the joy that follows.
Bless this work, and let it bring peace and understanding to those that read it.
Let the aspects of this work tainted by my sinfulness be burned away, leaving only the Goodness from the Lord to be received in Your heart.
And I pray that He grants you understanding and dispels the burden of deception from your soul.