As Christ made His way to the temple that last week of his life, he seemed to say trust me to everything and everyone he passed. (Inspired by Mark 11)
To the bushy fig tree-
Trust Me – I see your bushy, lush leaves, but I also see your willful, defiant heart of fruitlessness. You disobey the one edict of your existence, be a fruit producer. Do not say, “But it isn’t the season”! You do not ever bear buds of promise. I see your hypocrisy. You say you’re a fig tree, but you only bring forth leaves.
Trust Me – I will curse you to your roots.
To the temple mount-
Trust Me – I see the exquisite temple mount, with its hordes of worshipers, lush and full of people, but I also see your extortion and mockery of this holy place. You dishonor the one edict of its existence, be a place of sacrifice. Do not say, “but I provide a service.” You do not care for their souls. I see your hypocrisy. You say you are temple workers, but you only bring forth corruption.
Trust Me – I will destroy your wickedness.
To the withered, rootless tree-
Trust Me – I see your barren, gnarly branches, for I exposed your lie and you became what you already were, a fruitless dead tree. Do not say, “How can this be?” Your faith has shown your sapless soul. You should not have played the dangerous game of being not what you say you are. I see that bitter root of pride, which produced the leaves and squelched the fruit.
Trust Me – If you are faithless, I will remain faithful; I cannot deny Myself.