which next morning made Him seek fruit on the fig-tree on His way to t he City.

It was very early2 on the morning of the second day in Passion-week (Monday), when

Jesus, with his disciples, left Bethany. In the fresh, crisp, spring air, after the exhaustion

of that night, 'He hungered.' By the roadside, as so often in the East, a solitary tree3

grew in the rocky soil. It must have stood on an eminence, where it caught the sunshine

and warmth, for He saw it 'afar off,'4 and though spring had but lately wooed nature into

life, it stood out, with its wide-spreading mantle of green, against the sky. 'It was not the

season of figs,' but the tree, covered with leaves, attracted His attention. It might have

been, that they hid some of the fruit which hung through the winter, or else the springing

fruits of the new crop. For it is a well -known fact, that in Palestine 'the fruit appears

before the leaves,'5 and that this fig-tree, whether from its exposure or soil, was

precocious, is evident from the fact tha t it was in leaf, which is quite unusual at that

season on the Mount of Olives,6 The old fruit would, of course, have been edible, and in

regard to the unripe fruit we have the distinct evidence of the Mishnah,7 confirmed by

the Talmud,8 that the unripe fr uit was eaten, so soon as it began to assume a red colour

- as it is expressed, 'in the field, with bread,' or, as we understand it, by those whom

hunger overtook in the fields, whether working or travelling. But in the present case

there was neither old nor new fruit, 'but leaves only.' It was evidently a barren fig-tree,

cumbering the ground, and to be hewn down. Our mind almost instinctively reverts to

the Parable of the Barren Fig-tree, which He had so lately spoken.9 To Him, Who but

yesterday had wept over the Jerusalem that knew not the day of its visitation, and over

which the sharp axe of judgment was already lifted, this fig-tree, with its luxuriant mantle

of leaves, must have recalled, with pictorial vividness, the scene of the previous day.

Israel was that barren fig-tree; and the leaves only covered their nakedness, as erst

they had that of our first parents after their Fall. And the judgment, symbolically spoken

in the Parable, must be symbolically executed in this leafy fig-tree, barren when

searched for fruit by the Master. It seems almost an inward necessity, not only

symbolically but really also, that Christ's Word should have laid it low. We cannot

conceive that any other should have eaten of it after the hungering Christ had in vain

sought fruit thereon. We cannot conceive that anything should resist Christ, and not be

swept away. We cannot conceive, that the reality of what He had taught should not,

when occasion came, be visibly placed before the eyes of the disciples. Lastly, we

seem to feel (with Bengel) that, as always, the manifestation of His true Humanity, in

hunger, should be accompanied by that of His Divinity, in the power of His Word of

judgment.10