He’s calm, secure, completely in charge.

And while on the surface it looks like He’s passing their tests, the truth is—He’s testing them.

Take a look at the fig tree and the temple.

The fig tree should be fruitful, but it isn’t. So Jesus curses it. The temple should be fruitful, a house of prayer for all nations, but it isn’t. So Jesus cleanses it.

These moments aren’t random or isolated—they’re connected. He treats the temple the same way He treats the tree. This is more than a symbolic act. It’s a confrontation.

Jesus is inspecting the fruit.
Not just of trees. Not just of temples.
Of people.

The Bible is a Unified Story

The problem is, a lot of us read these stories in little bits, like flipping through a shuffled deck of movie scenes. Imagine watching a couple of disconnected clips from a few different seasons of a show and trying to understand the full narrative arc. That’s how many of us approach Scripture.

But Jesus is telling a unified story—one that confronts the illusion of religious performance and invites us into something deeper: a relationship.

God isn’t a vending machine.

He’s not a program with clear inputs and outputs. Yet many of us were taught to treat Him like that. If I do this, then God will do that. But that mindset puts us back in control, and Jesus has come to lovingly unravel our desire for control.

It’s threatening, no doubt.
But it’s also deeply comforting.

Because giving up control means we no longer carry the burden of having it all figured out. We can stop pretending. We can surrender to the One who holds the future and see life through His lens, not ours. Our limited perspective often causes us to focus on surface-level issues—like the fig tree—without realizing what Jesus is actually doing beneath the surface.

He’s pruning.
He’s inspecting.
He’s calling us into union with Him.

What kind of fruit is your life producing?

That’s not a question meant to shame you. Jesus doesn’t expose to condemn—He reveals to heal. If you feel conviction, it’s not because God is angry—it’s because He wants to draw you close. Perfect love casts out all fear. He prunes because we wouldn’t go far enough ourselves. He loves us too much to leave us fruitless.

So, where do we begin?

We start by creating space. Making room to hear. Letting go of the performance. Returning again and again to the quiet voice that calls us to relationship over routine.

Because the flourishing Jesus envisions for your life is always connected to Him. Your fruitfulness depends entirely on your connection to Jesus.

And this house—this temple, this body, this life—it’s meant to be a house of prayer. A place of flourishing. Not just for you, but for the sake of others. Jesus didn’t clear the temple just to make a point. He did it to clear the way.

So bring all of yourself.
Give out of your poverty.
Surrender your right to run the show.

It might feel like losing control—but it’s actually finding life.