As Holy Week begins, we stand at the threshold of a sacred journey, one that invites us to reflect on Jesus Christ’s life, death, and resurrection—and how His sacrifice calls us to live. The story of this week, starting with Monday of Holy Week, challenges us to examine our persistence, our fears, and the fruit we bear in our lives, all in the light of Christ’s transformative love.
Consider the power of persistence, vividly displayed in Rory McIlroy’s emotional victory at the Masters. Overcoming a double bogey, a water hazard, and a missed putt, McIlroy sank a birdie on the playoff hole to win, collapsing in tears of relief. To his daughter, Poppy, he offered timeless wisdom: “Never give up on your dreams. Never, ever give up.” Similarly, Tom Cruise, known for defying death in his films, shared his approach to fear with co-star Hailey Atwell: “If you are scared of something, just keep looking at it… it will often give you information about what to do to overcome it.” Both men illustrate human resilience—grit in the face of obstacles and courage in the face of fear.
Yet, what happens when our dreams elude us, or our fears overwhelm our ability to act? The world around us offers sobering reminders of challenges beyond human control. A Russian missile strike in Sumy, Ukraine, killed dozens during Palm Sunday celebrations. A nightclub roof collapse in the Dominican Republic claimed over 200 lives. Threats like bird flu and mpox loom as potential pandemics. Staring at these tragedies, as Cruise suggests, doesn’t always reveal a solution. Persistence alone cannot conquer every fear or fulfill every dream.
Enter Monday of Holy Week, where Jesus encounters a fig tree that prompts a profound lesson. As Mark 11:12–14 recounts, Jesus, hungry and seeing a leafy fig tree, found no fruit—only leaves, despite it not being the season for ripe figs. Matthew notes the tree withered instantly when Jesus cursed it (Matthew 21:19). Why such a severe response? In Israel, fig trees in spring bear paggim—small, edible green knobs—before summer figs ripen. A leafy tree should have had these, but this one was barren, a symbol of fruitlessness.
The prophets often compared faithless Israel to such barren trees (Jeremiah 29:17; Isaiah 34:4). Jesus used this moment to teach: God’s people are judged by their fruit. Like the fig tree, we are called to produce spiritual fruit—love, faith, and service—regardless of the season. But how? Many of us wrestle with fears of fruitlessness, wondering if we’re wasting the life God gave us. McIlroy’s advice to “never give up” feels hollow if we’re unsure of our purpose. Cruise’s call to face fears doesn’t clarify what fruit God expects.
Jesus provides the answer. Three days after cursing the fig tree, He declared, “I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing” (John 15:5). Abiding in Christ—resting in communion with Him—is the key to a fruitful life. His first followers lived this truth. Devoted to prayer and filled with the Spirit, they preached, healed, and spread the gospel from Jerusalem to Rome, Ethiopia to India (Acts 1:14; 2:4, 42–47). Because they abided in Jesus, their fruit transformed the world.
This Holy Week, we’re invited to ask: Are we abiding in Christ? Missionary Hudson Taylor likened it to a branch resting in the vine, not striving for sunshine or rain but trusting the vine to provide. In a world of rules and striving—where even Aristotle’s “golden mean” of virtue feels imprecise—Jesus offers a relationship, not a formula. Aristotle saw virtue as a balance between extremes, like courage between cowardice and recklessness. Yet, human perception alone struggles to find that balance. Only love, rooted in Christ, solves the puzzle.
Living in light of Christ’s sacrifice means seeing life as a metaphor for spiritual truth. A mother changing diapers can be a labor of love or drudgery, depending on her heart’s connection to God. Jesus, the presence of God, becomes our metaphor through the Holy Spirit, shaping us to bear fruit in every act. We don’t enforce rules or stone others for failing; we abide in Him, letting His love guide us.
As we journey through Holy Week, let’s intentionally rest in Jesus. His sacrifice on the cross—foreshadowed by the withered fig tree—calls us to die to self and live for Him. Unlike McIlroy’s hard-won victory or Cruise’s daring stunts, our fruitfulness doesn’t depend on our effort alone. By abiding in Christ, we bear fruit that endures, transforming our lives and the world, just as His love has done for centuries. This is the golden mean of faith: not a rule, but a relationship with the God who makes us fruitful