We might imagine that Jesus had many human faults. He failed most humanly, in my reckoning, when he killed the fig tree just because it didn't bear any figs for his breakfast; that was a disgraceful, bad-tempered thing to do, and to try and make a virtue of it by saying it was a demonstration of faith only made things worse.

Even saints lose patience sometimes

There's something refreshing about seeing someone admit that even spiritual figures—the ones we're told to emulate—sometimes just lose it over small things. Leunig's point isn't really about figs or breakfast. It's about recognizing that being wise, enlightened, or even genuinely good doesn't mean you're immune to petty frustration. The moment of snapping at an innocent tree because it failed to meet your expectations? That's deeply human. And that's exactly why trying to spiritualize it afterward—to turn a tantrum into a lesson—rings hollow.

What makes this observation stick is how it mirrors something we all do. We get annoyed, we blame others (or objects, or circumstances), and then we manufacture a noble reason for why we were actually right to be upset. We tell ourselves we were teaching someone a lesson, or standing up for a principle, when really we just wanted things on our terms. Leunig seems to suggest that the more honest move—for anyone claiming to be wise—is to admit when you've simply lost patience. That admission itself might mean more than the elaborate justifications we construct afterward.