Reflections: "Like a Tree" and "Like a Mustard Seed"

Reflection: "Like a Tree"

There is a story of a man walking along the road and coming across another man planting a tree. The first asked "how many years will it take for this tree to bear fruit?" The second man answered that it would take about 70 years. The first said to him "are you so fit and strong that you expect to live that long and eat its fruit?" The second man replied "I found a fruitful world because my forebears planted for me. So I will do the same for my children."

As I mentioned earlier to the children, today is International Tree Day, and I have taken this as the starting point for my preparations and reflections.

There are many directions one could go in giving some theological content to this theme. One could speak of hope and faithfulness such as the parable of the man planting a tree does, or of the need for good stewardship of our earth's resources. There is the tree of life mentioned at the beginning of Genesis and again at the end of Revelation, with fruit for knowledge in the one and leaves for healing in the other. There is even the sycamore tree as a locus for encounter with the Jesus of the gospels. But I have stayed right in the middle of the Scriptures where the life of the believer is likened to a tree in Psalm 1. This psalm serves as an introduction to the book of psalms as it speaks of the blessing afforded to those who are devoted to God and God's teaching, and the fate of those who ignore the ways of God.

I've used Bruce Prewer's version of this psalm as a text before in this church because it really brings the ancient Hebrew imagery alive for us. To be planted in God's ways is not just to be like any old tree, but to be like a mature river gum, defying the ever-present possibility of drought and providing shade and shelter in the hot Australian sun. A gum so deeply rooted that wind and heat will not destroy it, and its beauty will stand the test of time, indeed be enhanced in season by its delicate gum blossoms.

Bruce Prewer's image of the great red river gum has the same intention as the trees of the Hebrew psalmist: people who immerse themselves in the teaching of the Word of God will grow and be fruitful in their faith - those who are not rooted will be cast around by the willy-willies of life, will dry up in the harsh times and will never know the deep seated joy of a life of faith.

Although the psalm is a personal image, so that each of us could imagine ourselves as a tree rooted in God's love and grace, it is not an individualistic metaphor. From any vantage point overlooking a landscape one can trace the course of a river by the thick vegetation growing all along its banks. And the river, or the streams of water of the Hebrew psalm, are foundational to the metaphor of the life of faith as a fruitful tree. For it is the source of life in the riverflow that enables the tree to grow and flourish and connects its life with the life of others along the bank.

I have heard the suggestion that an appropriate metaphor for God in Australia is the vast underground water source - enabling bores of refreshment in a parched land, and pushing up with life and vitality in springs and gorges even in the vast desert country. This is why we might talk about tap roots - well established trees have roots that search deep under the surface for the source of water. Biblical visions of hope and new life are often talked about as water - either wells in a dry land or streams of life giving water. Those trees of Genesis and Revelation were both planted alongside important rivers. And baptism, the symbol of new life in Christ, makes use of water, celebrating both its sustaining and cleansing properties. But new life needs to be planted in a fertile area and nurtured to enable growth.

What sort of environment is need for this growth in faith? The traditional language of the psalm speaks of "delighting in the law" and living "righteous lives". Bruce Prewer paraphrases this as "delighting in Jesus' teaching" and being "loving people". In other words, spiritual growth is rooted in the love of God but developed through obedience to God's law. In ancient Israel this was never an individualistic, private thing. The law was the central focus for the family and for the entire community, and understanding it and applying it was always done in the company of others. Older generations encouraged the young, the community ensured that the law was carried out properly, and worship and festivals brought the community together to remind them of the roots of their life and faith.

As modern believers we often forget the value of the community around us. There is so much emphasis on individual responsibility and personal growth in our society that we let this spill over into the area of faith. But we all need the care and support of the church community as we aim to follow Christ. This is even more important for our young people. We will benefit personally as we accept our responsibility communally to support each other. All of us will be affected by the vitality of our church. You know how one can tell the age of a tree by the rings of growth across its trunk? In times of drought the rings are thin and insubstantial, but in times where there is adequate nurture the growth is thick and expansive. If our church is to be alive, and vital and effective we need to be a community that supports and cares for each other.

If we are a strong community which is well nurtured then we can expect to be fruitful Christians. Like a tree that "flowers every season" as Bruce Prewer's version of the psalm says. What does this mean? In biblical terms it means being mature, living a life of integrity where there is no distinction between sacred and secular, but all of life is lived in the light of the gospel. It means being free to use our gifts for the benefit of the whole community, and it means being open to learn, ready to add more rings of spiritual growth.

So it is good to remind ourselves where are roots are found, and to challenge ourselves to see what growth is occurring at our edges. We need to be committed at our core, but finding ways to draw others in, giving shelter from heat and storms and sharing with them the source of our life. Let us stand with one another at the river of life so that together we bear fruit for the Kingdom of God.

Mark 4:30-32 (Matt 13:31-32, Luke 13:19)
Ezek 17:22-23, 31:2-6
Daniel 4:10-12

A popular way of speaking about the parables is to refer to them as "earthly stories with heavenly meanings." We would be familiar with the idea that Jesus used parables to teach spiritual truth and divine wisdom. However William Herzog in his book Parables as subversive speech suggests that this view stands in tension with the fact that Jesus was tried and executed between two criminals as a political prisoner. He was a threat to the economic and political interests of both the Jewish elites and the Roman colonists. A question is posed which we must address to every parable - even one as popular as this parable of the Mustard Seed.

Jesus' use of parables was unusual - only a few parables are found in the Old Testament and no other New Testament author uses this form of communication. A good definition says "at its simplest the parable is a metaphor or simile drawn from nature or common life, arresting the hearer by its vividness or strangeness and leaving the mind in sufficient doubt about its precise application to tease it into active thought." (CH Dodd, 1934:16) And yet Jesus spoke to his followers in a context where they drew on the familiar, even if it were to give an unfamiliar, strange, or maybe even subversive, message. The parable we have read today has a familiar background in the Old Testament. Some have suggested that this background is important for understanding the point of the parable.

The image of a great tree growing out of something small and insignificant is found in the prophetic books of Ezekiel and Daniel. In Ezekiel it is a future vision of a new Israel, following the time of exile: God would snap a twig from the highest branch of a cedar of Lebanon and plant it again on a high mountain, where it would grow into a tree that would tower over any other and provide shelter for birds and other creatures. In Daniel the vision of a great tree admired and revered for its fruit and shelter but then cut down and laid waste is the Assyrian king Nebuchadnezzer's dream. As Daniel interprets this dream we find it is a foretelling of God's judgement of Nebuchadnezzer - showing that the powers of the earth are nothing in comparison to God.

Both visions refer to political power, where the tree represents a nation powerful enough that other nations would "nest in its branches" and so be dependent on it - the reference being to Assyria in one and Israel in the other. In other words, the image was a triumphal one probably quite familiar to those who were listening to Jesus.

So we have an ambiguous background - would Jesus have wanted those around him to understand the Kingdom of God as becoming a great political power? This triumphalism doesn't fit with his teaching anywhere else. Even the parable closely connected with this of the leaven in the dough is an insidious influence, working unseen, not something so great that all the world will be in awe.

But when we see the parallels in Matthew and Luke it seems that they did pick up this idea: the emphasis in the parable is on remarkable future growth - you'll notice if you read the later parallel passages in Mt 13 and Lk 13 that the shrub of Mark has become a great tree after the pattern of Ezekiel and Daniel. The parable itself has grown with the passing on of the tradition! Indeed there is a sense of triumphalism about the message, which fits in with what we know of the theology of Matthew and Luke. Matthew believes his small congregation, often referred to as the "little ones" in the gospel, will grow into a new Israel. Luke in his gospel and the book of Acts is keen to show how Christianity which begins so ignominiously will eventually spread throughout the Roman empire.

And this message of marvellous growth is certainly how the parable of the mustard seed is usually interpreted. Certainly there is a contrast between small and large, insignificant and notable. All sorts of Christian organisations and charities are named for it. Something small will grow into something significant, something that gives shelter to others. It is a nice picture but could we happily accept that Jesus, who rejected all other attempts at establishing worldly power, might preach such triumphalism? And anyway, in Mark's version of the parable the mustard seed only grows into a shrub - hardly a suitable place for birds to take up residence.

There is a strangeness about this little text that leaves sufficient doubt in our minds to explore its meaning further. And this is made greater by the knowledge that the mustard plant was not at all popular in first-century Palestine. The natural historian Pliny wrote about the mustard plant: "it grows entirely wild, and when it has been sown it is scarcely possible to get the place rid of it". Even in the Mishnah (the Jewish tradition that grew around the Hebrew law) there is the statement "no kinds of seeds may they sow in a garden bed, but only vegetables. Mustard and smooth chickpeas are considered seeds", ie mustard seed was forbidden from planted gardens in the Jewish law.

Is the subversive message of this parable, then, that the kingdom of God will spread like a weed? Was the planting of such a seed that was "forbidden" by Jewish law exactly what Jesus was urging of his followers? Was he saying that the Kingdom of God is not for the righteous, but for impudent rule-breaking sinners? Tax-collectors and prostitutes for example. I recently read the novel Chocolat which has been turned into a very nice movie also. In Chocolat the Church that stands at the centre of the town is righteous but has no grace, no life, no love, no reconciliation, no hope. Those things came from an unexpected quarter - a blow-in traveller from the north who really cared about the community she found herself in, although with her excessive chocolaterie she didn't respect the rules of the Lenten fast. In fact that story has the priest of the church labouring to remove nuisance weeds from the church garden!

Jesus preached about the Kingdom of God and he ended up on a cross, forsaken and despised. But through this weakness the world can be saved. If we are to follow in the footsteps of this saviour, should the Kingdom of God today be best represented as a nuisance that refuses to be gotten rid of - poking its nose in where some people would be more comfortable with nice straight flower beds? Maybe it is through the humility of the broken church, not the triumphalist institution represented by pomp and wealth and grandeur, that the world will be changed.

References:

Robert Funk, "The Looking Glass Tree is for the birds" in Jesus as Precursor (1975)

Sallie McFague, "Parable" in A new dictionary of Christian theology (1983:425)

John Dominic Crossan "A Closer Look at the Mustard Seed" from The Historical Jesus: The Life of a Mediterranean Jewish Peasant

"The Kingdom of God as Jesus sees it breaking in will arrive in disenchanting and disarming form: not as a mighty cedar astride the lofty mountain height but as a lowly garden herb. The kingdom of God is not a towering empire, but an unpretentious venture of faith erupting out of the power of weakness." (Funk)

Rev. Jeanette Mathews
29 July 2001