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From Spurgeon's sermon "The Withered Fig Tree" September 29th, 1889, At the Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington. These being from chapters 3 & 4. (This sermon is near the very end of his public ministry of 35 years and is quite convincing to the soul)
If I profess faith, and have no faith, is not that a lie? If I profess repentance, and have not repented, is not that a lie? If I unite with the people of the living God, and yet have no fear of God in my heart, is not that a lie? If I come to the communion table, and partake of the bread and wine, and yet never discern the Lord’s body, is not that a lie? If I profess to defend the doctrines of grace, and yet am not assured of the truth of them, is not that a lie? If I have never felt my depravity; if I have never been effectually called, never known my election of God, never rested in the redeeming blood, and have never been renewed by the Spirit, is not my defense of the doctrines of grace a lie? If there is nothing but leaves, there is nothing but lies, and the Saviour sees that it is so. All the verdure of green leaf to him without fruit is but so much deceit. Profession without grace is the funeral pageantry of a dead soul. Religion without holiness is the light which comes from rotten wood—the phosphorescence of decay. I speak dread words, but how can I speak less dreadfully than I do? If you and I have but a name to live, and are dead, what a state we are in! Ours is something worse than corruption: it is the corruption of corruption. To profess religion and live in sin, is to sprinkle rosewater upon a dunghill, and leave it a dunghill still. To give a spirit an angel’s name when it bears the devil’s character, is almost to sin against the Holy Ghost. If we remain unconverted, of what use can it be to have our name written among the godly?
Our Lord discovered that there was no fruit, and that was a dreadful thing; but, next, He condemned the tree. Was it not right that He should condemn it? Did He curse it? It was already a curse. It was calculated to tantalize the hungry, and take them out of their way to deceive them. God will not have the poor and needy made a jest of. An empty profession is a practical curse; and should it not receive the censure of the Lord of truth? The tree was of no use where it was: it ministered to no man’s refreshment. So, the barren professor occupies a position in which he ought to be a blessing, but, in truth, an evil influence streams forth from him. If he has not the grace of God in him, he is utterly useless, and in all probability he is a curse: he is an Achan in the camp, grieving the Lord, and causing Him to refuse success to His people.
Our Lord did, however, use the fig tree for a good purpose when He caused it to wither away; for it became, henceforth, a beacon and a warning to all others who put forth vain pretences. So, when the ungodly man, who has exhibited a flourishing profession, is allowed to fade away in his ways, some moral effect is produced upon others. They are compelled to see the peril of an unsound profession; and if they are wise, they will no longer be guilty of it. Would God it might be so in every case whenever a notable religionist withers away!
After that, when the Saviour had condemned it, He pronounced sentence upon it; and what was the sentence? It was simply, “As you were.” It was nothing more than a confirmation of its state. This tree has borne no fruit; it shall never bear fruit. If a man chooses to be without the grace of God, and yet to make a profession of having it, it is only just that the great Judge should say, “Continue without grace.” When the great Judge at last shall speak to those who depart from God, He will simply say to them, “Depart!” Throughout life they always were departing, and after death their character is stamped with perpetuity. If you choose to be graceless, to be graceless shall be your doom. “He which is filthy, let him be filthy still” (Rev 22:11). May the Lord Jesus never have to sentence any of you in this way; but may He turn us, that we may be turned, and work in us eternal life to His praise and glory!
Then there came a change over the tree. It began at once to wither. I do not know whether the disciples saw a quiver run through it at once; but on the next morning when they passed that way, according to Mark, it had dried up from the roots. Not only did the leaves hang down, like streamers when there is no wind; not only did the bark seem to have lost every token of vitality; but the whole fabric was blighted fatally. Have you ever seen a fig tree with its strange, weird branches? It is a very extraordinary sight when bare of leaves. In this case I see its skeleton arms! It is twice dead, dead from the very roots. Thus have I seen the fair professor undergo a blight. He has looked like a thing that has felt the breath of a furnace, and has had its moisture dried up. The man is no longer himself: his glory and his beauty are hopelessly gone. No axe was lifted; no fire was kindled; a word did it, and the tree withered from the root. So, without thunderbolt or pestilence, the once brave professor is stricken as with the judgment of Cain. It is an awful fate. Better far to have the vinedresser come to you with the axe in his hand, and strike you with the head of it, and say to you, “Tree, thou must bear fruit, or be hewn down.” Such a warning would be terrible, but it would be infinitely better than to be left in one’s place untouched, quietly to wither to destruction.
Now I have delivered my heavy burden, laying it far more upon myself than upon any one of you; for I stand more prominent than you. I have made a louder profession than most of you, and if I have not His grace in me, then I shall stand before the multitude that have seen me in my greenness, and shall wither away to the very roots, a terrible example of what God doth with those who bear no fruit to His glory.
“But,” saith one, “I know what I will do; I will never make any profession; I will bear no leaves.” My friend, that also is a sullen, rebellious spirit. Instead of talking so, you should say, “Lord, I do not ask Thee to take away my leaves, but let me have fruit.” The fruit is not likely to ripen well without leaves; leaves are essential to the health of the tree, and the health of the tree is essential to the ripening of the fruit. Open confession of faith is good, and must not be refused. Lord, I would not drop a leaf.
“I’m not ashamed to own my Lord,
Or to defend His cause;
Maintain the honour of His word
The glory of His cross.”
Lord, I do not want to be set away in a corner. I am satisfied to stand where men may see my good works, and glorify my Father Who is in heaven. I do not ask to be observed; but I am not ashamed to be observed; only, Lord, make me fit for observation. If a commander said to a soldier, “Stand firm, but mind you have your cartridges ready, so that you may not lift an empty gun”, suppose that soldier answered, “I cannot be so particular. I would rather run to the rear.” Would that be a fit reply? Coward! Because your captain warns you that you must not be a sham, you would therefore, run off altogether! Surely, you are of an evil sort. You are not truly one of the Lord’s, if you cannot bear His rebuke. Let not these solemn truths drive us away, but let them draw us on to say, “Lord, I pray Thee, help me to make my calling and election sure. I beseech Thee, help me to bring forth the expected fruit. Thy grace can do it.”
I would suggest to everyone here to cry to the Lord to make us conscious of our natural barrenness. Gracious ones, may the Lord make us mourn our comparative barrenness, even if we do bear some fruit. To feel quite satisfied with yourself is perilous: to feel that you are holy, and indeed that you are perfect, is to be on the brink of the pit of pride. If you hold your head so high, I am afraid you will strike it against the top of the doorway. If you walk on stilts, I fear you will fall. It is a safer thing to feel, “Lord, I do serve Thee, and I am no deceiver. I do love Thee; Thou hast wrought the works of the Spirit in me. But alas! I am not what I want to be; I am not what I ought to be. I aspire to holiness: help me to attain it. Lord, I would lie in the very dust before Thee to think that after being digged about and dunged, as I have been, I should bear such little fruit. I feel myself less than nothing. My cry is, ‘God be merciful to me’ (Luk 18:13). If I had done all, I should still have been an unprofitable servant; but having done so little, Lord, where shall I hide my guilty head?”
Lastly, when you have made this confession, and the good Lord has heard you, there is one emblem in Scripture I should like you to copy. Suppose this morning you feel so dry and dead and barren, that you cannot serve God as you would, nor even pray for more grace, as you wish to do. Then you are something like these twelve rods. They are very dead and dry, for they have been held in the hands of twelve chiefs, who have used them as their official staves. These twelve rods are to be laid before the Lord. This one is Aaron’s rod; but it is quite as dead and dry as any of the rest. The whole twelve are laid in the place where the Lord dwelleth. We see them next morning.
Eleven are dry rods still; but see this rod of Aaron! What has happened? It was dry as death. See, it has budded! This is wonderful! But look, it has blossomed! There are almond flowers upon it. You know they are rosy pink and white. This is marvelous! But look again, it has brought forth almonds! Here, you have them! See these green fruits, which look like peaches. Take off the flesh, and here is an almond whose shell you may break and find the kernel. The heavenly power has come upon the dry stick, and it has budded and blossomed, and even brought forth almonds. Fruit-bearing is the proof of life and favour. Lord, take these poor sticks this morning, and make them bud. Lord, here we are, in a bundle, perform that ancient miracle in a thousand of us. Make us bud and blossom, and bear fruit! Come with divine power, and turn this congregation from a [bless and do not curse][bless and do not curse][bless and do not curse][bless and do not curse][bless and do not curse]9 into a grove. Oh, that our blessed Lord may get a fig from some dry stick this morning! At least, such a fig as this, “God be merciful to me a sinner”; there is sweetness in that prayer. Our Lord Jesus likes the taste of such a fig as this, “Lord, I believe; help thou my unbelief” (Mar 9:24). Here is another, “Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him”(Job 13:15)—that is a whole basketful of the first ripe figs, and the Lord rejoices in their sweetness. Come, Holy Spirit, produce fruit in us this day, through faith in Jesus Christ our Lord! Amen, and Amen.
Full sermon: Chapel Library
If I profess faith, and have no faith, is not that a lie? If I profess repentance, and have not repented, is not that a lie? If I unite with the people of the living God, and yet have no fear of God in my heart, is not that a lie? If I come to the communion table, and partake of the bread and wine, and yet never discern the Lord’s body, is not that a lie? If I profess to defend the doctrines of grace, and yet am not assured of the truth of them, is not that a lie? If I have never felt my depravity; if I have never been effectually called, never known my election of God, never rested in the redeeming blood, and have never been renewed by the Spirit, is not my defense of the doctrines of grace a lie? If there is nothing but leaves, there is nothing but lies, and the Saviour sees that it is so. All the verdure of green leaf to him without fruit is but so much deceit. Profession without grace is the funeral pageantry of a dead soul. Religion without holiness is the light which comes from rotten wood—the phosphorescence of decay. I speak dread words, but how can I speak less dreadfully than I do? If you and I have but a name to live, and are dead, what a state we are in! Ours is something worse than corruption: it is the corruption of corruption. To profess religion and live in sin, is to sprinkle rosewater upon a dunghill, and leave it a dunghill still. To give a spirit an angel’s name when it bears the devil’s character, is almost to sin against the Holy Ghost. If we remain unconverted, of what use can it be to have our name written among the godly?
Our Lord discovered that there was no fruit, and that was a dreadful thing; but, next, He condemned the tree. Was it not right that He should condemn it? Did He curse it? It was already a curse. It was calculated to tantalize the hungry, and take them out of their way to deceive them. God will not have the poor and needy made a jest of. An empty profession is a practical curse; and should it not receive the censure of the Lord of truth? The tree was of no use where it was: it ministered to no man’s refreshment. So, the barren professor occupies a position in which he ought to be a blessing, but, in truth, an evil influence streams forth from him. If he has not the grace of God in him, he is utterly useless, and in all probability he is a curse: he is an Achan in the camp, grieving the Lord, and causing Him to refuse success to His people.
Our Lord did, however, use the fig tree for a good purpose when He caused it to wither away; for it became, henceforth, a beacon and a warning to all others who put forth vain pretences. So, when the ungodly man, who has exhibited a flourishing profession, is allowed to fade away in his ways, some moral effect is produced upon others. They are compelled to see the peril of an unsound profession; and if they are wise, they will no longer be guilty of it. Would God it might be so in every case whenever a notable religionist withers away!
After that, when the Saviour had condemned it, He pronounced sentence upon it; and what was the sentence? It was simply, “As you were.” It was nothing more than a confirmation of its state. This tree has borne no fruit; it shall never bear fruit. If a man chooses to be without the grace of God, and yet to make a profession of having it, it is only just that the great Judge should say, “Continue without grace.” When the great Judge at last shall speak to those who depart from God, He will simply say to them, “Depart!” Throughout life they always were departing, and after death their character is stamped with perpetuity. If you choose to be graceless, to be graceless shall be your doom. “He which is filthy, let him be filthy still” (Rev 22:11). May the Lord Jesus never have to sentence any of you in this way; but may He turn us, that we may be turned, and work in us eternal life to His praise and glory!
Then there came a change over the tree. It began at once to wither. I do not know whether the disciples saw a quiver run through it at once; but on the next morning when they passed that way, according to Mark, it had dried up from the roots. Not only did the leaves hang down, like streamers when there is no wind; not only did the bark seem to have lost every token of vitality; but the whole fabric was blighted fatally. Have you ever seen a fig tree with its strange, weird branches? It is a very extraordinary sight when bare of leaves. In this case I see its skeleton arms! It is twice dead, dead from the very roots. Thus have I seen the fair professor undergo a blight. He has looked like a thing that has felt the breath of a furnace, and has had its moisture dried up. The man is no longer himself: his glory and his beauty are hopelessly gone. No axe was lifted; no fire was kindled; a word did it, and the tree withered from the root. So, without thunderbolt or pestilence, the once brave professor is stricken as with the judgment of Cain. It is an awful fate. Better far to have the vinedresser come to you with the axe in his hand, and strike you with the head of it, and say to you, “Tree, thou must bear fruit, or be hewn down.” Such a warning would be terrible, but it would be infinitely better than to be left in one’s place untouched, quietly to wither to destruction.
Now I have delivered my heavy burden, laying it far more upon myself than upon any one of you; for I stand more prominent than you. I have made a louder profession than most of you, and if I have not His grace in me, then I shall stand before the multitude that have seen me in my greenness, and shall wither away to the very roots, a terrible example of what God doth with those who bear no fruit to His glory.
Lord, Let Us Bear Fruit!
But now I desire to conclude with tenderer words. Let no man say, “This is very hard.” Brother, it is not hard, is it, that if we profess a thing we should be expected to be true to it? Besides, I pray you not to think that anything my Lord can do is hard. He is all gentleness and tenderness. The only thing He ever did destroy was this fig tree. He destroyed no men, as Elias did when he brought fire from heaven upon them; nor as Elisha did when the bears came out of the wood. It is only a barren tree that He causes to wither away. He is all love and tenderness: He does not want to wither you, nor will He, if you be but true. The very least He may expect is that you be true to what you profess. Are you rebellious because He asks you not to play the hypocrite? If you begin to kick against His admonition, it will look as if you were yourself untrue at heart. Instead of that, come and bow humbly at His feet, and say, “Lord, if anything in this solemn truth bears upon me, I beseech Thee so to apply it to my conscience that I may feel its power, and flee to Thee for salvation.” Many men are converted in this way—these hard but honest things drive them from false refuges, and bring them to be true to Christ and to their own souls.“But,” saith one, “I know what I will do; I will never make any profession; I will bear no leaves.” My friend, that also is a sullen, rebellious spirit. Instead of talking so, you should say, “Lord, I do not ask Thee to take away my leaves, but let me have fruit.” The fruit is not likely to ripen well without leaves; leaves are essential to the health of the tree, and the health of the tree is essential to the ripening of the fruit. Open confession of faith is good, and must not be refused. Lord, I would not drop a leaf.
“I’m not ashamed to own my Lord,
Or to defend His cause;
Maintain the honour of His word
The glory of His cross.”
Lord, I do not want to be set away in a corner. I am satisfied to stand where men may see my good works, and glorify my Father Who is in heaven. I do not ask to be observed; but I am not ashamed to be observed; only, Lord, make me fit for observation. If a commander said to a soldier, “Stand firm, but mind you have your cartridges ready, so that you may not lift an empty gun”, suppose that soldier answered, “I cannot be so particular. I would rather run to the rear.” Would that be a fit reply? Coward! Because your captain warns you that you must not be a sham, you would therefore, run off altogether! Surely, you are of an evil sort. You are not truly one of the Lord’s, if you cannot bear His rebuke. Let not these solemn truths drive us away, but let them draw us on to say, “Lord, I pray Thee, help me to make my calling and election sure. I beseech Thee, help me to bring forth the expected fruit. Thy grace can do it.”
I would suggest to everyone here to cry to the Lord to make us conscious of our natural barrenness. Gracious ones, may the Lord make us mourn our comparative barrenness, even if we do bear some fruit. To feel quite satisfied with yourself is perilous: to feel that you are holy, and indeed that you are perfect, is to be on the brink of the pit of pride. If you hold your head so high, I am afraid you will strike it against the top of the doorway. If you walk on stilts, I fear you will fall. It is a safer thing to feel, “Lord, I do serve Thee, and I am no deceiver. I do love Thee; Thou hast wrought the works of the Spirit in me. But alas! I am not what I want to be; I am not what I ought to be. I aspire to holiness: help me to attain it. Lord, I would lie in the very dust before Thee to think that after being digged about and dunged, as I have been, I should bear such little fruit. I feel myself less than nothing. My cry is, ‘God be merciful to me’ (Luk 18:13). If I had done all, I should still have been an unprofitable servant; but having done so little, Lord, where shall I hide my guilty head?”
Lastly, when you have made this confession, and the good Lord has heard you, there is one emblem in Scripture I should like you to copy. Suppose this morning you feel so dry and dead and barren, that you cannot serve God as you would, nor even pray for more grace, as you wish to do. Then you are something like these twelve rods. They are very dead and dry, for they have been held in the hands of twelve chiefs, who have used them as their official staves. These twelve rods are to be laid before the Lord. This one is Aaron’s rod; but it is quite as dead and dry as any of the rest. The whole twelve are laid in the place where the Lord dwelleth. We see them next morning.
Eleven are dry rods still; but see this rod of Aaron! What has happened? It was dry as death. See, it has budded! This is wonderful! But look, it has blossomed! There are almond flowers upon it. You know they are rosy pink and white. This is marvelous! But look again, it has brought forth almonds! Here, you have them! See these green fruits, which look like peaches. Take off the flesh, and here is an almond whose shell you may break and find the kernel. The heavenly power has come upon the dry stick, and it has budded and blossomed, and even brought forth almonds. Fruit-bearing is the proof of life and favour. Lord, take these poor sticks this morning, and make them bud. Lord, here we are, in a bundle, perform that ancient miracle in a thousand of us. Make us bud and blossom, and bear fruit! Come with divine power, and turn this congregation from a [bless and do not curse][bless and do not curse][bless and do not curse][bless and do not curse][bless and do not curse]9 into a grove. Oh, that our blessed Lord may get a fig from some dry stick this morning! At least, such a fig as this, “God be merciful to me a sinner”; there is sweetness in that prayer. Our Lord Jesus likes the taste of such a fig as this, “Lord, I believe; help thou my unbelief” (Mar 9:24). Here is another, “Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him”(Job 13:15)—that is a whole basketful of the first ripe figs, and the Lord rejoices in their sweetness. Come, Holy Spirit, produce fruit in us this day, through faith in Jesus Christ our Lord! Amen, and Amen.
Full sermon: Chapel Library
