Fig Leaf Remedy
Don't Leave God Alone: How to Get God's Attention, Remain in His Presence, and Even Change His Mind to Make a Difference in Your WorldFig Leaf Remedy names the attempt to cover spiritual failure through human effort rather than returning to God. The image begins with Adam and Eve, who hid after sin, and develops into a wider warning against shame, religious substitutes, and self-justifying methods. In the book’s argument, the remedy does not heal separation from God: it conceals it, produces no fruit, and leaves a person dependent on a substitute for divine presence.
Origin in Adam and Eve
In Genesis 3, God came looking for the regular fellowship He had shared with Adam and Eve, but their disobedience changed the encounter. After eating from the forbidden tree, they hid from God’s presence and covered themselves. The movement from open fellowship to concealment is presented as an early form of leaving God alone: rather than returning to the One they had offended, they withdrew from Him.
Their new covering was made from fig leaves sewn together. The physical nakedness that had previously caused no shame suddenly became a source of embarrassment, and the leaves stood between them and God’s presence. The image therefore joins bodily exposure to spiritual exposure. Sin makes people feel uncovered, and shame encourages them to construct a barrier instead of seeking restoration.
The book defines fig leaves as human efforts toward righteousness—works assembled to make people feel justified in their actions. Such efforts may provide a temporary sense of safety, but they cannot create genuine righteousness or make a person acceptable before God. The covering is visible, deliberate, and inadequate: it addresses the feeling of exposure without resolving the failure that produced it.
A Fruitless Substitute
The expression is reinforced through Jesus Christ’s encounter with the fig tree in Mark 11. The tree had leaves but no fruit, and Jesus cursed it. The book reads this symbolically: the leaves recall the covering chosen by Adam and Eve, while the absence of fruit reveals the result of relying on that covering. What appears to offer protection produces nothing that can nourish, change, or demonstrate life.
The fig-tree image also links personal self-justification with religious methods. Jesus first observed the Temple and later cursed the fruitless tree; He then returned to the Temple and drove out the money changers and those selling doves. The book treats these actions as connected. The people selling doves represent the replacement of the Holy Spirit’s anointing with human methods, while the removal of oxen and sheep in other Temple accounts is read in relation to serving and to people. Service and people are not condemned in themselves; the problem is replacing God’s presence with systems that merely resemble spiritual activity.
This is why the Fig Leaf Remedy ultimately leaves people with little or no fruit and with lifeless religion. It can preserve an outward appearance, but it cannot supply the presence it imitates. The contrast is between leaves and fruit, substitute and reality, human method and God’s way of doing things.
The Alternative to Concealment
The book’s direct answer is not to run from God after failure but to run back to Him. Because of the blood of Jesus Christ, sin is described as covered without the need for a self-made fig leaf. The believer is urged to depend on Christ’s covering rather than on personal excuses, religious performance, or an invented defense of righteousness.
The same principle applies when prayer has been neglected. Distractions, repeated failure, and embarrassment can lead people to avoid prayer because they fear failing again or imagine that God is angry with them. The Fig Leaf Remedy then becomes a pattern: a person skips prayer, feels exposed, constructs excuses, and withdraws further. The prescribed response is openness, continued return, and a willingness to ask God for help even after inconsistency.
This return is not presented as a single emotional moment but as a repeated practice. Continuing to come back to God gradually turns prayer into a consistent part of life. The remedy for failure is therefore not concealment but renewed contact with God, an approach that changes the direction from withdrawal to fellowship.
Connection with Persistence in Prayer
The Fig Leaf Remedy stands opposite the book’s principle of persistence in prayer. Luke 11 is used to describe continual asking, seeking, and knocking: the petitioner does not stop merely because an answer is not immediately visible. Persistence refuses the conclusion that silence means abandonment and keeps pressing toward God rather than retreating behind shame.
The book extends this logic through Jacob, who pressed toward God until he received blessing, and through Moses, whose intercession led God to change His mind about harming His people. These examples make the contrast especially sharp. The fig-leaf response withdraws from divine presence, while persistent prayer remains engaged with it. One treats distance as a reason to hide; the other treats apparent distance as a reason to keep reaching.
The metaphor also differs from the book’s image of a blessing rain cloud. Persistent prayer and sacrifice are described as filling a heavenly account until blessing is released like rain. Whether expressed through covering or through accumulation, these images make spiritual life concrete and embodied. Yet their moral directions differ: the fig leaves are a defensive human construction, while the rain cloud represents sustained approach, dependence, and expectation.
From Graveclothes to Living Fruit
The book’s later image of Lazarus further clarifies what must happen after spiritual or personal restoration. Lazarus came out of the grave alive but still bound in graveclothes. In the same way, a revived dream or renewed life may remain restricted by old habits, sins, and ways of thinking. The hands represent limitations on service and work; the feet represent patterns that cause falling; and the face represents impaired vision, speech, hearing, and thought.
Fig leaves and graveclothes perform related but distinct functions. Fig leaves conceal exposure before restoration, whereas graveclothes bind a person after life has been restored. Both prevent the full expression of what God intends. The first keeps a person hiding from God; the second keeps a resurrected possibility from moving forward. In both cases, the answer is removal: abandon the substitute covering and allow the old restraints to be taken away.
The book’s larger emphasis is that God’s presence must not be replaced, avoided, or treated as an afterthought. Believers are called to initiate contact with God’s power, as the woman with the issue of blood reached for the hem of Jesus Christ’s garment after twelve years of suffering. Her action represents the opposite of the Fig Leaf Remedy: she did not hide her need behind a covering but pressed toward divine strength at her lowest point.
Significance of the Expression
Fig Leaf Remedy functions as a compact warning against shame-based withdrawal, self-righteousness, and powerless religion. Its force comes from a chain of contrasts: nakedness versus covering, leaves versus fruit, concealment versus fellowship, human methods versus the Holy Spirit’s anointing, and avoidance versus persistent prayer.
The expression also carries the book’s practical demand. Failure in prayer is not supposed to become an identity, and apparent unworthiness is not supposed to dictate permanent distance from God. The reader is urged to return directly, seek help, keep asking, and refuse to accept substitutes for God’s presence. In that framework, the Fig Leaf Remedy is not a solution at all; it is the recurring form of avoidance that must be recognized and discarded before genuine fellowship, fruitfulness, and spiritual effectiveness can emerge.