The parable of the green tree

As the soldiers led Jesus away, they seized Simon from Cyrene, who was on his way in from the country, and put the cross on him and made him carry it behind Jesus. A large number of people followed him, including women who mourned and wailed for him. Jesus turned and said to them, “Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me; weep for yourselves and for your children. For the time will come when you will say, ‘Blessed are the childless women, the wombs that never bore and the breasts that never nursed!’ Then “they will say to the mountains, ‘Fall on us!’ and to the hills, ‘Cover us!’ For if people do these things when the tree is green, what will happen when it is dry?” Luke 23:26-31

I wonder how often we have read these grim words from Luke’s Gospel – words of Jesus – and wondered exactly what he meant by that final question? What’s this about trees?

The context (as always) is important. Jesus is being led away to crucifixion and large crowds are lining the route, including many women, weeping and wailing. Jesus rebukes them (though with compassion): “It’s not me you should we weeping for; it’s yourselves and your children. The days ahead are days when it would be better never to have had children…”

Then he quotes from the Old Testament prophet Hosea (chapter 10, verse 8). Hosea lived at a time when God’s people Israel had lapsed into idolatry and so, in effect, had invited God’s wrath to fall on them. Those days will be so horrific that people will plead for the very mountains to fall on them; it will be better to die than to live.

So far, so clear. But then Jesus adds another saying which is not a quote from the Old Testament: “If people do these things when the tree is green, what will happen when it is dry?”

Not a quote from the Old Testament? Certainly, there seems to be an echo of Ezekiel 20:45-48. But more likely it is a proverbial saying that has been passed down the generations. Various interpretations have been suggested, but the simplest and most natural seems best: “If this is how the brutal Romans are prepared to treat one innocent man, how much worse will it be in the days to come? The killing of one man, wicked though it is, is nothing compared with the ruining of a whole city, including its beautiful temple. Green wood – and that’s what we are at the moment - doesn’t burn well, but once it has dried it goes up in flames in no time at all.”

In a nutshell, Jesus’ cryptic saying seems simply to be the equivalent of the modern catchphrase “You ain’t seen nothing yet!” – but in a bad rather than a good sense.

Two thoughts occur to me…

First, his words remind us that he never promised that the outworking of God’s purposes would be easy: anything but. The kingdom of God has broken in, and we are all invited to be part of it, but as we enlist, so to speak, we must be under no illusions. His call involves “taking up your cross to follow me” (Matthew 16:24), and those were no empty words; he made it clear that when we make that great decision we must “count the cost” (Matthew 15:25-33).

How easy it is to make promises of those kinds in the first flush of zeal, especially if we came to Christ when still young, when many youthful enthusiasms – sporting, political, career-wise, hobby-wise, religious – are born! Experience teaches many things, and easily takes its toll. And so it is with the fire of faith: it can very easily begin to burn low – no wonder Paul urges the Christians of Thessalonica (1 Thessalonians 5:19) not to “quench (that is, stub out) the Spirit”.

I wonder if this is a reality some of us need to face up to? Is it time to have a fresh “getting-to-grips-with-God-again” session? If so, a time of reflection on the disturbing letter of Jesus to the church in Laodicea (Revelation 3:14-22) might be in order. “Whoever has ears to hear, let them hear…”!

Second, it’s worth reflecting that, if Jesus’ words about the green and dry tree are indeed a time-honoured proverbial saying – if that is so, it’s striking that he should be prepared to make them part of his own teaching. We are familiar with his many quotations from the Old Testament, the Hebrew scriptures, of course, for he saw himself as the fulfilment of those scriptures; but a reference like this somehow “earths” him as a man of his own time, and a man of a particular nation and race with its traditions and culture.

This has something to say to us about the Bible as a whole, the writings the Christian church has always honoured as the written word of God.

It emerged over many hundreds of years and was composed, humanly speaking, by a wide range of writers. This means that, to our eyes, it can seem a rambling, even messy, book. It doesn’t always yield its meaning to us easily, but requires study and, in many respects, the help of experts, linguists and historians as well as theologians. Why else do we expect trainee ministers to undergo serious study? Why else do we look to people who know more than we do to write books and give lectures? The Bible is an inspired book, yes – but it is not a magic book.

I find it reassuring that Jesus was prepared to take a piece of home-spun everyday wisdom from the world around him and weave it into his own teaching side by side with a chunk of sacred Old Testament scripture. It helps me to see not only Jesus but also the Bible itself with fresh eyes – inspired by the Holy Spirit, yes, but also a very human, earthy book. There is much to be gained by recognising its human authorship as well as its divine inspiration. Something to think about?

Lord Jesus, we worship you as God in the flesh. Just as we see you as both divine and human, may we also see your written word, the Bible, as both written by human beings but also inspired by the Holy Spirit. Amen.