The Eschatology of Jesus and the Cursed Fig Tree

A Rebuke of Political Zionism and a Call to Prophetic Faithfulness

Jesus approached the fig tree looking for fruit.

It had leaves—signs of life, of promise—but no fruit.

So He cursed it (Mark 11:13–14).

This wasn’t just about a tree.

It was a living parable—an eschatological sign against a religious-political system that had leaves without covenant obedience, temple without mercy, national pride without prophetic truth.

The fig tree was Israel—not as a people beloved by God, but as a system posturing righteousness while rejecting the One who came to gather her children.

And He wept.

Today, the modern state of Israel, for all its technological and economic achievements, bears a haunting resemblance to that fig tree. National leaves. Military power. Religious symbolism.

But where is the fruit?

Where is the justice, the humility, the mercy (Micah 6:8)?

Where is the welcoming of the stranger, the honoring of the least, the recognition of Messiah?

This is not a denial of Israel’s irrevocable calling (Romans 11:29)—but a warning:

The return of the land without the return of covenant is not fulfillment.

It is a delay.

It may even be a sign of judgment.

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The Cursed Fig Tree: Leaves Without Fruit
As Jesus approached the fig tree, He expected fruit. The tree had leaves—promising signs—but no reality beneath. He cursed it.

This was not arbitrary.

The fig tree symbolized the covenant people (cf. Hosea 9:10; Jeremiah 8:13). But more specifically, it represented a religious order that was externally alive but internally barren.

Jerusalem’s leadership—its priesthood, its national pride—had maintained the rituals, but rejected the heart. They had the Temple, but not teshuvah. They had the Law, but not love.

“Because you did not recognize the time of your visitation…” (Luke 19:44)

Today, that same indictment could be spoken over a modern political Zionism that has elevated power over prophecy, walls over welcome, and vengeance over vision.
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When Will Cain Put Down His Jealousy?
“Christ is the end (telos) of the law, so that there may be righteousness for everyone who believes.”
—Romans 10:4

If Jesus is the goal of the Law, then clinging to its outer garments while rejecting its fulfillment is not faithfulness—it is blindness (2 Corinthians 3:14–16).

Modern Zionism claims a covenantal inheritance—but it often does so while refusing the Covenant-Keeper Himself. It seeks identity in land, but not in Lamb.

It is Cain with a flag:
Armed. Entitled. Jealous.
Jealous of Ishmael.
Jealous of the Gentiles.

Jealous of the mercy poured out on the least, the outsider, the one who didn’t “deserve” it.

“They made Me jealous by what is no god… so I will make them jealous by those who are not a people.” —Deuteronomy 32:21 (cf. Romans 10:19)
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The Zion the Psalmist Saw
“Glorious things are spoken of you, O city of God.”
—Psalm 87:3

Psalm 87 redefines what it means to belong to Zion. It lists Babylon, Philistia, Cush, Tyre, Egypt—traditional enemies of Israel—and declares of them: “This one was born there” (v. 4–6).

This is no mere poetic flourish. This is the heart of the gospel.

Zion is not a militarized ethnos. It is a sanctuary for the nations. A people. A presence. A praise.

Citizenship is granted not by blood—but by grace.
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The True Zionism: A Mission, Not a Border

“You will be My witnesses…”

—Acts 1:8

Not empire-builders.

Not enforcers of national boundaries.
Not purveyors of eschatological propaganda.
Witnesses.

Of the resurrection.
Of reconciliation.
Of a Messiah who breaks down dividing walls (Ephesians 2:14).

The tragedy of political Zionism is not just in its violence—it is in its betrayal of mission. It puts land above life. Tribe above truth. Power above prophecy.
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The Apocalypse of the Lamb
The Book of Revelation unveils not the triumph of one nation, but the Lamb who was slain (Revelation 5:6).

Its climax is not a war—but a wedding.

The New Jerusalem descends from heaven (Revelation 21:2). It is not built by tanks, treaties, or technocrats.

“The leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations.” —Revelation 22:2

This is the final eschatology of Jesus: not war, but healing.

Not vengeance, but reconciliation.
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The House Isaiah Saw
“In the last days, the mountain of the Lord’s house shall be established…”
—Isaiah 2:2–4

Isaiah saw a house, not a state.

A place of prayer for all nations (Isaiah 56:7).

A sanctuary of shalom, not a center of surveillance.

When Jesus quotes this in Mark 11:17—“My house shall be called a house of prayer for all nations”— He is rebuking a Temple system turned into a nationalist marketplace.

If that was judged, what of a state that bears its name but not its purpose?
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The Mission Hasn’t Changed
The gospel is not a tribal document. It is a missional announcement:

“Through your offspring all nations on earth will be blessed.”
—Genesis 12:3 (cf. Galatians 3:8)

Acts 15 confirms this: Gentiles were not required to become Jews or relocate to Jerusalem.

They were called to moral clarity, spiritual purity, and humility before the God of Israel.

They were grafted into a covenant of mercy, not a geopolitical campaign.
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A Call to Wakefulness

Political Zionism is not the gospel.

It is a distortion of Israel’s calling.

Christianity should NOT act as Edom enthroned.

It is the testimony of resurrection, the witness of a crucified Messiah who reconciles Jew and Gentile in one new humanity (Ephesians 2:15).

“For Zion’s sake I will not keep silent…”
—Isaiah 62:1

But that Zion is not armed with drones.

It does not deport the stranger or bomb the poor.

It is the city of God, whose architect is the Lord, whose King wore a crown of thorns.
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Final Word

Let us be clear:

The return of land without the return of covenant is not fulfillment.

A nation bearing leaves without fruit is still under warning.

The true Zion is not fenced—it is flung open by the resurrection of the King.

Let Cain repent.
Let Abel rise.

Let Jacob and Esau’s reconcilation prevail.
Let Gog fall.
Let the house be built.

And let the nations come—and be healed.

(cf. Revelation 22:2)

“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God.”
—Matthew 5:9

Pre-Millennialism or Pre-Messianic Age?

Reclaiming A.B. Simpson’s Urgency and the Prophetic Hope

Why Simpson’s vision of the Kingdom still matters

Introduction
At the recent Council of the Christian and Missionary Alliance (C&MA) in Columbus, Ohio 2025, delegates reaffirmed a pre-millennial understanding of Christ’s return. 

Though unsurprising, this decision reaffirms a core tenet of our movement: the conviction that a coming Messianic Age remains central to the hope of both Scripture and the early Church.

Yet what was not clarified is equally important. There was no distinction made between historic premillennialism—the position held by our founder, Dr. A.B. Simpson—and the more rigid dispensational frameworks that emerged later. These later systems, heavily shaped by ‘flat’ or easy readings of the Apocalypse of John, continue to dominate much of the popular evangelical imagination. But Simpson’s voice was different. And it is precisely that voice we need to recover today.
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First Immanency and Simpson’s Mission
As Franklin Pyles rightly emphasizes, Simpson’s eschatology was never theoretical. It was deeply practical and rooted in mission. He believed in what we might call a First Immanency—not just the belief that Christ would return soon, but that His return was near in a way that demanded urgent obedience. For Simpson, imminency was not a speculative timeline. It was a call to faithful action.

“This gospel of the kingdom will be preached in the whole world as a testimony to all nations, and then the end will come.” — Matthew 24:14

This verse wasn’t background noise to Simpson’s theology—it was its beating heart. “The Coming King” was not just a doctrinal tag; it was the driving force behind the Alliance’s global mission. In The Fourfold Gospel, Simpson named Jesus as Savior, Sanctifier, Healer, and Coming King. But that final title was never about apocalyptic escape—it was a summons to urgent, worldwide engagement and Kingdom preparation.

Some feared this focus on Christ’s return would distract from mission. In truth, it fueled it. This is what Simpson helped correct: the idea that eschatology weakens mission. In fact, it strengthens it—when rightly framed. What we must reject is easy eschatology—one that avoids the symbolic depth of Scripture for fear it complicates our agenda. As the Lord says, “My ways are not your ways” (Isa. 55:8).

Revelation invites us not to predict, but to perceive—to read symbol with faith, and live with holy imagination. Simpson’s vision calls us to think deeply, act boldly, and proclaim creatively. The Kingdom is not only coming. It is already breaking in.

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Why Does History Go On and On?
Today, the global news stream is relentless—conflict, catastrophe, collapse. We scroll through endless tragedy and wonder: Will anything ever truly change? History drags on, seemingly with no resolution in sight.

But this is not a new question. The Apostle Peter spoke of it long ago:
“Where is the promise of his coming?” — 2 Peter 3:4

We don’t ask this mockingly, but out of lament. We cry out as those waiting for history’s fulfillment.

Simpson would answer this cry the same way he answered it over a century ago:

History continues because one prophecy remains unfulfilled—one promise still burns in God’s heart and must burn in ours.

“This gospel of the kingdom will be preached in the whole world as a testimony to all nations, and then the end will come.” — Matthew 24:14

This is not just a timeline—it’s a mandate. Not speculation about empires. Not identifying the Antichrist. The return of Christ hinges on global proclamation. Simpson saw history as God’s field for gospel sowing, and the Church as the laborers—not through conquest or mere humanitarianism, but through proclamation of the reign of Christ in power, word, and Spirit.
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Beyond Charts: A Sabbath Cosmology
This contrasts sharply with much of today’s premillennial discourse, which has become entangled in speculative literalism and doctrinal gridlock. In truth, the term premillennialism deserves rethinking. Simpson stood closer to the early Church chiliasts, who anticipated a real, embodied reign of Messiah—not as domination, but as covenantal restoration.

Our modern eschatological categories—“millennium,” “rapture,” “tribulation”—are often shaped more by post-Enlightenment frameworks than the biblical prophets. 

Augustine’s amillennialism was symbolic but framed within a questionable ecclesiology. Later dispensationalism dissected history into epochs. Simpson bypassed both and I believe for his love of the Jewish people would be more aligned to the Hebraic rhythm of sacred time.

In Jewish cosmology, time unfolds in six “days” of labor followed by a seventh—the Sabbath of the Lord. The Messianic Age is not merely a thousand-year marker, but the redemptive culmination of covenant history.

Reframing “premillennialism” as pre-Messianic ageism captures this vision more faithfully. The “thousand years” in Revelation may signify not a precise duration, but the very character of the age—an age marked by witness, suffering, and perseverance. It is the age out of which the martyrs emerge, whose testimony defines much of John’s vision across Revelation’s chapters—yet always with the Lamb on the throne.

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Simpson’s Remnant and John’s Revelation
In The Coming One, Simpson wrote:

“Both find their historical fulfillment in the faithful few who have ever existed in even the darkest ages of medieval corruption… There has ever been a little flock, of which He says: ‘They shall be mine in the day when I make up My jewels.’”

This remnant vision includes the sealed 144,000 in Revelation—not merely as a theological metaphor, but as a covenantal remnant of Israel. It stands as a witness to Jewish faithfulness through suffering, exile, and pacifism—from the early centuries of Islamic conquest, through the endurance of the Middle Ages into the complex struggles of modern Zionism.

This remnant recalls the parables of the Treasure and the Pearl, where what is hidden and costly is preserved through trials. Eschatology must not be reduced to a flat timeline or simplistic scheme—it demands depth, memory, and covenantal imagination.

👉 The Messiah at Rome’s Gates: Exile, Healing, and the Threshold of Redemption

Perhaps the Millennium mentioned in Revelation is not a word in sequence, perhaps we are in the final battle of Gog and Magog?

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With Whom Will He Reign?
This reframing raises a crucial question—not just when Jesus will return, but how, and with whom. For Simpson, unity with the Jewish people was not a sidebar to prophecy. It was central to the eschatological mystery.

👉 A.B. Simpson: Spiritual Zionist, Open to Mystery

But what kind of unity are we talking about? Simply grafting Messianic Jews into Protestant categories? Or something more profound—a reconciliation with the Jewish narrative itself, and a partnership that fulfills God’s promises to Israel and the nations?

Isaiah’s last chapter puts it plainly:

“Heaven is My throne and the earth is My footstool… Where is the house you will build for Me?” — Isaiah 66:1

The final vision is not a temple of stone or a kingdom of coercion, but the descent of divine presence—a reign of justice, humility, and healing. It is a vision rooted in the Hebrew prophets, where so much remains unrealized and yet to be fulfilled.

Texts like Isaiah 2, 19, and 63 & 66 plus Micah 4, offer a more expansive and redemptive horizon than even the apocalyptic frameworks often drawn from Daniel’s historical imagery.

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The Kingdom Must Be Preached
This is why Simpson resisted the idea that the Kingdom would come merely through education, medical aid, or cultural uplift. In Larger Outlooks on Missionary Lands, he warned against the belief that societal improvement could substitute for gospel proclamation.

“We do not believe that this is the Scriptural standpoint of missions… If we are to do effective work, we surely must understand and work in harmony with the plan of our great Leader.” — A.B. Simpson

Yes, the Kingdom must be modeled. But it must also be proclaimed. Not either/or—but both. The Church must never forget that proclamation is the engine of fulfillment.
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A Prophecy That Answers History’s Ache
Simpson’s missionary vision—and Jesus’ prophecy in Matthew 24:14—reveal not only the why of history’s long arc, but the what now of the Church’s mission.

We are not called to wait for the world to burn.

We are called to bring the King back!

This is the prophecy that answers the ache of creation. It declares that even the delay is mercy—and that every act of gospel faithfulness brings the Kingdom closer.

From this mountaintop, we glimpse the end: not extinction, not collapse—but Kingdom.

Until that day, the mandate is clear:
Preach. Proclaim. Display. Declare without end!  

Prepare the world for the Coming One.

Let us not merely say He is coming soon.

Let us live—like Simpson—so the world knows:

He may come today. Maranatha! 

Sources
Franklin Pyles, The Missionary Eschatology of A.B. Simpson, Read here

A.B. Simpson, The Fourfold Gospel. PDF Download

A.B. Simpson, The Coming One,  pp. 32–33.

A.B. Simpson, Larger Outlooks on Missionary Lands (1895).