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A Tale of Two Trees



I think that I shall never see, a poem as lovely as a tree. - Joyce Kilmer


There is nothing as beautiful as a tree silhouetted against a bright blue sky. - Kennan Vaughn


What is your favorite tree? My favorite tree is the magnolia tree. Growing up we had several beautiful magnolias in our yard, but the one I remember most was the magnolia tree growing in my Dan-Mamma and Dan-Daddy’s front yard in Sandy Springs, Georgia.


As a child it appeared to stretch to the heavens, over one hundred feet tall, with branches that spread wide yielding the sweetest most delicious smelling flowers. I can remember spending hours underneath its canopy, climbing its branches, and allowing my imagination to run wild.


To this day, whenever I smell a magnolia tree, it instantly takes me back to those early childhood memories. I bet almost everyone in here can recall a similar memory about a special tree from their childhood.


Let’s face it, trees are beyond special. They have a certain dignity and even divinity about them.


There are 4,528 references to trees in the Bible.


They are mentioned in the Bible more than any other living things, other than God and people.


Trees are the oldest living things found on the earth. The Great Basin Bristlecone Pine has been deemed the oldest tree in existence, reaching an age of over 5,000 years.


We find a tree on the first page of Genesis, the third verse of Psalm One, the first chapter of John’s Gospel, and the last page of the book of Revelation.


And although there is no definitive proof as to what tree Jesus’ cross was made, many scholars believe it was a composite of three types of wood: cedar, pine, and cypress, which some traditions interpret as a possible reference to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.


You could even say that the Bible is bookended by trees, beginning with the tree of the knowledge of good and evil from Genesis, and ending with the tree of life, whose leaves are for the healing of the nation, found in the last chapter of Revelation.


Father Jim added after the 8am service that not only is the Bible bookended by tress, its pages are made from the wood of trees.


And somewhere in the middle of the story we find Jesus, incarnate, lifted up upon a tree to draw all people to himself, to reconcile us back into relationship with our Heavenly Father.


As Paul writes to the church in Galatia, Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us—for it is written, “Cursed is everyone who hangs on a tree.”


So why all this talk about trees this morning? Well, I am so glad you asked! In both our Old and New Testament lessons today, we are introduced to two significant trees from the Bible: Moses’ burning bush, and Jesus’ fig tree.


Let’s take a look at the burning bush first. Although the Hebrew word here is translated as bush, bushes are actually categorized as small woody trees.


Now we do not know what type of species the burning bush was, but some folks believe it was an extremely long lived species of bramble that is native to the area of Mt. Sinai that is known as rubus sanctus, which is translated as holy bramble.


Moses first encounters this rubus sanctus, this burning bush during his years living in Exile form Egypt as a shepherd over his father-in-law’s flock at Horeb.


There the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a flame of fire out of a bush; he looked, and the bush was blazing, yet it was not consumed. Then Moses said, “I must turn aside and look at this great sight, and see why the bush is not burned up.” When the Lord saw that he had turned aside to see, God called to him out of the bush, “Moses, Moses!” And he said, “Here I am.” (Exodus 3:1-4)


You all know this story, right? God tells Moses to remove his sandals because he’s standing on holy ground. Then God tells him from the burning bush that he is the God of Moses’ ancestors: the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.


Moses freaks out because he realizes that he is talking to a Burning Tree God, a Rubus Sanctus, whose flames burn bright but cannot consume its branches. And so naturally, Moses hides his face in utter fear from God.


Then the Lord said, “I have observed the misery of my people who are in Egypt; I have heard their cry on account of their taskmasters. Indeed, I know their sufferings, and I have come down to deliver them from the Egyptians, and to bring them up out of that land to a good and broad land, a land flowing with milk and honey. (Exodus 3:7-8)


I’m thinking that by this point, Moses fear may be residing, and now he’s like, this Burning Tree God is pretty awesome: the God who comes down to be with his people, the God who delivers his children from slavery and gives them a promised land; a place made safe just for them, a place flowing with milk and honey and all the best kind of stuff to smell and to taste and to eat.


I mean this is the shrub of liberation, the burning tree of deliverance, freedom from oppression, a God who’s rolling out the red carpet for his precious possession Israel.


I’m sure Moses was like, this is an awesome plan, right?


And then God as only God can do, instantly flips the table and says to Moses, "So come, I will send you to Pharaoh to bring my people, the Israelites, out of Egypt." (Exodus 3:10)


Do you think Moses turned around to make sure this rubus sanctus was talking to him, like, are you talking to me Burning Tree God?


Nevertheless, God tells Moses that he will be with him, that he has his back. And when Moses asks God,


“If I come to the Israelites and say to them, ‘The God of your ancestors has sent me to you,’ and they ask me, ‘What is his name?’ what shall I say to them?” God said to Moses, “I am who I am.” He said further, “Thus you shall say to the Israelites, ‘I AM has sent me to you.’”

(Exodus 3:13-14)


This is such an amazing story! The burning bush tells us what God is like: the great liberator of all our sins, and what his desire for the human race is to include us in the coming of his kingdom on earth as in heaven.


God’s promise to be with Moses is the promise of Jesus to us, the work of Immanuel, the God who is with us. Jesus, the light of the cosmos that the darkness cannot overcome; God incarnate, a blazing bush that is not consumed.


Which brings us to the tale of our second tree and to our Gospel lesson for this morning: Jesus’ parable of the fig tree.


After a discussion broke out about some recent tragedies reported by the local news, Jesus’ asks his audience if they believed that the victims of these tragedies were punished by God because of their sin.


In a sober response Jesus declares, No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish as they did.


And then Jesus tells this parable, “A man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard; and he came looking for fruit on it and found none. So, he said to the gardener, ‘See here! For three years I have come looking for fruit on this fig tree, and still, I find none. Cut it down! Why should it be wasting the soil?’ He replied, ‘Sir, let it alone for one more year, until I dig around it and put manure on it. If it bears fruit next year, well and good; but if not, you can cut it down."

(Luke 13:6-9)


To be honest, I’ve always struggled with this parable, perhaps it’s because of another story where Jesus miraculously curses a fig tree that then withers and dies before his triumphant entrance into Jerusalem to begin his passion. Or perhaps it is because of the sharp, almost biting language of the vineyard owner in this parable, Cut it down! Why should it be wasting the soil?


You see the soil in a vineyard would have been the richest and most productive soil possible to cultivate juicy ripe figs. Moreover, vineyards were protected from the dangerous elements and pests that could impair a fig tree’s growth.


In the mind of the owner, there was no logical reason for the fig tree to fail in producing fruit. It was just taking up good soil, soil that could be used in producing lucrative fruit.


I’ve always thought this story conflicted with the Jesus I have come to know. The son who has shown me the everlasting, unrelenting, always pursuing, always making new love of his heavenly Father.


But something beautiful happened in my hearing this week upon further meditation upon the parable of the fig tree.


I heard for the first time clearly the voice of Jesus in the compassionate words of the gardener, the one responsible for the final fig harvest, pleading with the owner on behalf of his fruitless tree.


“Sir, let it alone for one more year, until I dig around it and put manure on it. If it bears fruit next year, well and good; but if not, you can cut it down.” (Luke 13:8-9)


Father, let it alone for one more year. Let me work with it. Let me lay my hands upon it. Let me cultivate the soil and fertilize its roots. Let me intercede on its behalf and do for it what it cannot do on its own.


Let me die and rise again and I will defeat death, I will bring them all back home to you.


I personally resonate with Jesus as the voice of the gardener when it comes to planting a new Episcopal/Lutheran dinner church in Grovetown.


You see, we are still characterized as a mission because the Episcopal Diocese Of Georgia and the Lutheran Southeastern Synod have chosen to financially back us until we become financially independent. Once a mission becomes financially independent then it becomes a church.


The problem is that we are a church NOW, even though we are classified as a mission. We are slowly making steps towards teaching folks about stewardship and pledging in the Episcopal Church, but these things take time when you are dealing with brand new baby Christians during a global pandemic.


So, every year I have had to apply for grants from our partners in ministry. Last year marked the third year of the mission. And although both denominations have been incredibly supportive in the grant process, it still felt a bit like begging the owner of the vineyard for one more year.


Sir, let it alone for one more year, until I dig around it and put manure on it. If it bears fruit next year, well and good; but if not, you can cut it down.


And that’s why I hear so clearly the voice of Jesus in the gardener today. I would do almost anything to see our community in Grovetown succeed. So how much more does Jesus desire for it to bear fruit.


For us all to bear fruit.


Father, let it alone for one more year. Let me work with it. Let me lay my hands upon it. Let me cultivate the soil and fertilize its roots. Let me intercede on its behalf and do for it what it cannot do on its own.


Let me die and rise again and I will defeat death, I will bring them all back home to you.


Three days after Jesus was crucified and buried, Mary Magdalene went to the tomb to pay her respects. The tomb was empty. With her eyes burning from crying for days, Mary turned and saw Jesus. But she did not recognize him as Jesus. She thought he was the gardener.


Perhaps this was no mistake. Jesus is the Gardener. He is the new Adam, come to dress and keep the garden, not to destroy and plunder it. Adam tore the leaves off the fig tree to cover up and hide from God, Jesus was lifted up on a tree so that he might draw all people to himself.


The tale of two trees is our tale, the story of the great I Am calling us into relationship with him, opening our eyes along the way to see spiritual burning bushes every day.


And I believe this morning that we are the fruitless fig tree Jesus, the master gardener died to save. For as our Presiding Bishop Michael Curry loves to say, There is plenty of good room for all of God’s children in our Father’s vineyard.


In closing, I will leave you with the words of Joyce Kilmer from his poem, Trees:


I think that I shall never see

A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest

Against the sweet earth's flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,

And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in summer wear

A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;

Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,

But only God can make a tree.



References


Kilmer, Joyce. Trees.


Price, Summer. The Oldest Tree in the World. https://www.treesatlanta.org/news/the-oldest-tree-in-the-world/


Sleeth, Matthew. What Is the Significance of Trees in the Bible? Why Did Jesus Die on a Tree? https://www.christianity.com/wiki/jesus-christ/what-is-the-significance-of-trees-in-the-bible-why-did-jesus-die-on-a-tree.html

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