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THE TREES
The trees once
went out to anoint a king over themselves. So they said to the
olive tree, “Reign over us.” The olive tree answered them,
“Shall I stop producing my rich oil by which gods and mortals
are honored and go to sway over the trees?”
Then the trees
said to the fig tree, “You come and reign over us.” But the fig
tree answered them, “Shall I stop producing my sweetness and my
delicious fruit, and go to sway over the trees?”
Then the trees
said to the vine, “You come and reign over us.” But the vine
said to them, “Shall I stop producing my wine that cheers gods
and mortals and go to sway over the trees?”
So all the
trees came to the bramble, “You come and reign over us.” And the
bramble said to the trees, “If in good faith you are anointing
me king over you, then come and take refuge in my shade; but if
not, let fire come out of the bramble and devour the cedars of
Lebanon.”
From very early times, Israelite
descendants of the Exodus were looking for a king. Kings meant
wealth, armies, territorial expansion, national pride. All the
surrounding countries had kings. Why not Israel?
Israel finally established a monarchy but,
with only a few notable exceptions, its king-choosing record was
abysmal. The people wanted their king to be an olive tree,
symbolic of wisdom. Or they wanted the fig, symbolic of plenty.
Or maybe a grape vine, symbolic of hospitality. But what did
they choose time after time, king after king? They chose the
bramble, a nasty little ground plant full of thorns and prone to
consumption by prairie fires. The kings of Israel were, by and
large, a very useless lot.
Still, Israel never lost hope for a good
king, a messiah who would rescue them from their oppressors and
establish Israel as a leader among nations. How ironic that,
when their true king finally came, they didn’t recognize him.
You can’t exactly blame them. Their centuries-old dream called
for a military king riding a big white horse, not a peasant
riding a donkey.
Today, Palm Sunday, we will strew branches
in Jesus’ path, recognizing him ever so briefly for the king he
is. Later in the week we, along with the ancient Romans and
Jews, will despise and reject him, crowning him with – of all
things – a bramble bush. What kind of king is this?
Glorious King, you come to us in
humility, offering the extravagant wisdom, abundance and
hospitality of your heavenly kingdom. You are always before us
and always our king, but sometimes we look past you into the
wilderness of life and fix our gaze upon a bramble bush, the
weed that would be king. Focus our gaze upon you, O Lord. Thy
kingdom come. Amen
Dallas Cronk
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