On the first night of this week’s gospel meeting, I was rushing about getting things ready when I reached for a cassette tape to use in recording our guest speaker’s first sermon. I had checked on Sunday evening to make certain I had at least one tape for this purpose, and I’d spotted one cassette on the lectern shelf behind the tape recorder.

You’ll understand my frustration when I reached for the tape Thursday evening, only to discover that what I had thought was a cassette was in fact merely an empty case. Of course, I was mostly angry with myself for not having investigated further on Sunday to make sure there was an actual tape in the case. But I was also a bit peeved, frankly, at the cassette box for fooling me into thinking it held a tape inside, when in reality it held only air.

I immediately thought of Jesus and the fig tree. On one occasion when Jesus was traveling with His disciples, they came upon a fig tree that was in full leaf. It was not fig season, so it was unusual that the tree should appear to be in production mode at that time of year. As Jesus and the apostles approached, it became clear that although the tree had fully leafed as though it were in season, there was no fruit to be found anywhere on it. Jesus cursed the tree — in the condemnatory sense, not that He hurled profanity at it — because it appeared to be something that it wasn’t. The tree was just like my empty cassette case, which held out the promise of a tape but had nothing inside.

Too many so-called Christians are empty cassette cases, and full-leafed but fruitless fig trees. They show all the outward signs of religion, while inside they are barren shells. Paul warned Timothy of those whom he described as “lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God, having a form of godliness but denying its power” (2 Timothy 3:4-5). They are like those in Israel of whom the Lord said, “These people draw near with their mouths and honor Me with their lips, but have removed their hearts far from Me” (Isaiah 29:13; Matthew 15:8).

Sometimes we convince ourselves that Christianity is something we can put on like a winter coat, and doff again when we no longer feel the chill (or the heat, if that metaphor works better for you). We become like those hypocritical Pharisees who sounded trumpets when they gave offerings, prayed aloud on street corners, and wore fancy prayer shawls and phylacteries (little boxes with Scripture scrolls inside, usually worn on the arm or forehead) to convince others how religious they were (Matthew 6:1-6). Others may be fooled — indeed, we may fool even ourselves — but God is not fooled (Galatians 6:7).

There’s a reason why the New Testament describes those who truly come to Christ as converted (Matthew 18:3; Acts 3:19): they have been changed in heart, in mindset, and in lifestyle. The genuine disciple is not putting on some show of faith, but rather possesses faith that demands to be shown (James 2:18, 22). It is the difference between the sacrifice-free gifts of the proud wealthy, and the all-sacrificing offering of the poor widow who held back nothing (Mark 12:41-44). It is the difference between an empty cassette case, and one with a tape inside.