I’d really rather grow like a squash.

Scripture compares believers to many different things. We are God’s field, God’s building. Our body is a temple. We are like sheep, and not just any sheep, but lost sheep. We are salt, and we are light, and we are even Christ’s bride.

(Bible references above include 1 Corinthians 3, 1 Corinthians 6, John 10, Isaiah 53, Matthew 5, and Ephesians 5.)

But one thing that first captured my imagination 25 years ago, and which I just can’t get over, is this: believers, and people in general, are trees.

Really. Trees. Seem like an odd choice? I thought so too. Read on.

Trees figure prominently and repeatedly in Scripture, but if you asked someone to name Biblical trees, their first answer might not be, “oh, you mean that great metaphor for the life of the believer, right?” Instead, I think a person might think of the trees in Eden – the Tree of Life, and the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil – in the early chapters of Genesis. Or they might know that the same Tree of Life, in plural this time (so maybe it’s a species?) shows up in the New Jerusalem in Revelation 22. They may think of the gopher wood that was used by Noah to build his ark (I have no idea what gopher wood is, but I think gopher’s believe all wood is theirs), or that big plant that gave shade to Jonah near the end of his story. My friend Erin even bases his life’s work on partly on the vision in Ezekiel 47, which is filled chuck full of trees. Palm fronds on Palm Sunday, Olive Trees on the Mount of Olives, and on and on – there are lots of stories in the Bible, and lots of trees in those stories.

So we are in good company when the Bible says we are trees. But why does the Bible talk about us this way?

I’d better back up a little and mention a few places where the Bible refers to us as trees.

Psalm 1
How blessed is the one who does not follow the advice of the wicked,
or stand in the pathway with sinners,
or sit in the assembly of scoffers!
Instead he finds pleasure in obeying the Lord’s commands;
he meditates on his commands day and night.
He is like a tree planted by flowing streams;
it yields its fruit at the proper time,
and its leaves never fall off.
He succeeds in everything he attempts.

Isaiah 10
A shoot will grow out of Jesse’s root stock,
a bud will sprout from his roots.
The Lord’s spirit will rest on him –
a spirit that gives extraordinary wisdom,
a spirit that provides the ability to execute plans,
a spirit that produces absolute loyalty to the Lord.

Jeremiah 17
My blessing is on those people who trust in me,
who put their confidence in me.
They will be like a tree planted near a stream
whose roots spread out toward the water.
It has nothing to fear when the heat comes.
Its leaves are always green.
It has no need to be concerned in a year of drought.
It does not stop bearing fruit.

Ezekiel 17
“‘Therefore this is what the sovereign Lord says: As surely as I live, I will certainly repay him for despising my oath and breaking my covenant! I will throw my net over him and he will be caught in my snare; I will bring him to Babylon and judge him there because of the unfaithfulness he committed against me. All the choice men among his troops will die by the sword and the survivors will be scattered to every wind. Then you will know that I, the Lord, have spoken!

“‘This is what the sovereign Lord says:

“‘I will take a sprig from the lofty top of the cedar and plant it.
I will pluck from the top one of its tender twigs;
I myself will plant it on a high and lofty mountain.
I will plant it on a high mountain of Israel,
and it will raise branches and produce fruit and become a beautiful cedar.
Every bird will live under it;
Every winged creature will live in the shade of its branches.
All the trees of the field will know that I am the Lord.
I make the high tree low; I raise up the low tree.
I make the green tree wither, and I make the dry tree sprout.
I, the Lord, have spoken, and I will do it!’”

Matthew 7
“Watch out for false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing but inwardly are voracious wolves. You will recognize them by their fruit. Grapes are not gathered from thorns or figs from thistles, are they? In the same way, every good tree bears good fruit, but the bad tree bears bad fruit. A good tree is not able to bear bad fruit, nor a bad tree to bear good fruit. Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. So then, you will recognize them by their fruit.”

Romans 11
Now if some of the branches were broken off, and you, a wild olive shoot, were grafted in among them and participated in the richness of the olive root, do not boast over the branches. But if you boast, remember that you do not support the root, but the root supports you. Then you will say, “The branches were broken off so that I could be grafted in.” Granted! They were broken off because of their unbelief, but you stand by faith. Do not be arrogant, but fear! For if God did not spare the natural branches, perhaps he will not spare you. Notice therefore the kindness and harshness of God – harshness toward those who have fallen, but God’s kindness toward you, provided you continue in his kindness; otherwise you also will be cut off. And even they – if they do not continue in their unbelief – will be grafted in, for God is able to graft them in again. For if you were cut off from what is by nature a wild olive tree, and grafted, contrary to nature, into a cultivated olive tree, how much more will these natural branches be grafted back into their own olive tree?

Colossians 2
Therefore, just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live your lives in him, rooted and built up in him and firm in your faith just as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness.

And then there’s that vision in Ezekiel 47. I’ll let you read about that at Erin’s site.

The point here is that I am not talking about some mere chance reference in Scripture that compares people to trees. In just happens over and over and over. In fact, I’ll let somebody else do the counting, but I would not be surprised at all if people in general, and believers specifically, are compared to trees just about as often as we are compared to anything else in Scripture.

So what’s up with that? To me, a tree seems like an odd thing to compare people to a whole bunch of times if you have an infinite imagination. But they are pretty interesting things. And one thing I learned about them when I was in my early twenties is that they grow funny.

Back then, a friend of mine gave me a little bitty book called “Principles of Spiritual Growth” by a man named Miles Stanford. I was a little under-impressed at first. This book was small. Its language seemed dated, even though it was published in the same year I was (1964). And it had what looked to be very dry chapter titles. Chapter 1 – Faith. Chapter 2 – Time. Chapter 3 – Acceptance. Chapter 4 – Purpose. And so on. It looked like a book for somebody who’d already achieved a lot of spiritual growth, and (since I had not noticed the relatively recent publication date) I thought it was probably for people quite a bit older than me, too.

My surprise was pretty great when I started reading, and found that this little book had a lot to say to me. I never would have imagined this little book (especially its second chapter, which contained some lessons I never forgot) would teach me truths that have become utterly unshakable foundations in my life.

I would like to call out two of those lessons here. Both of them relate to my own frustration at my spiritual growth, or lack thereof.

First, Standford points out that many people who are effective Christians later in their life start off by getting set aside for a while. This seems to be necessary so that they can learn lessons which are only properly learned over a period of time. Standford writes:

John Darby makes it plain that “it is God’s way to set people aside after their first start, that self-confidence may die down. Thus Moses was forty years. On his first start he had to run away. Paul was three years also, after his first testimony. Not that God did not approve the first earnest testimony. We must get to know ourselves and that we have no strength. Thus we must learn, and then leaning on the Lord we can with more maturity, and more experientially, deal with souls.”

Well, right there I can see something about myself. It’s certainly true that my own ego has gotten in the way of me becoming all I am called to be in Christ. Like Moses and Paul, I had a zealous start for the Lord when I was 16, but I have definitely had had patches of time when I have been set aside. Not abandoned, but led to grow in quietness while I tend to my own life, without much impact in the lives of others beyond what you might expect from an introverted Christian with a problematic ego.

But I wondered, why, when I do sense growth in my spiritual life, does it seem so … well, spurty? It seems like the world is full of people who press on from one spiritual high to the next, growing each and every day, living out a celebration of full spirituality that only ever increases in vigor, strength, and joyfulness.

Um, yeah. I used to think there were lots of people like that. In the meantime, I’ve gotten to know quite a few people that I respect a LOT. I’m not saying there aren’t any people who have non-stop spiritual awesomesauce, just that I haven’t met any yet. The spiritual heroes I know may be diligent, or dynamic, or remarkable in many other ways, but they all go through relatively dry times and relatively joyful times, just like me.

Why is that? And why would we describe dry times as “dry” to begin with?

One answer is that we’re trees.

In the very next paragraph of Stanford’s book, he wrote these words.

Since the Christian life matures and becomes fruitful by the principle of growth (see II Pet. 3:18) rather than by struggle and “experiences,” much time is involved. Unless we see and acquiesce to this, there is bound to be constant frustration, to say nothing of resistance to our Father’s development processes for us. Dr. A. H. Strong illustrates for us: “A student asked the President of his school whether he could not take a shorter course than the one prescribed. ‘Oh yes,’ replied the President, ‘but then it depends upon what you want to be. When God wants to make an oak, He takes a hundred years, but when He wants to make a squash, He takes six months.’” Strong also wisely points out to us that “growth is not a uniform thing in the tree or in the Christian. In some single months there is more growth than in all the year besides. During the rest of the year, however, there is solidification, without which the green timber would be useless. The period of rapid growth, when woody fibre is actually deposited between the bark and the trunk, occupies but four to six weeks in May, June and July.”

When I read those words for the first time, I had to read them again, and again. They lifted such a burden from my heart, and gave such hope to my soul. I was not a spiritual misfit! I am a tree!

Sounds odd, but this was good news to me.

Trees add bulk for only a small portion of any year. This is unfortunately what we call “growth” and is what we measure when we look at a tree’s growth rings. However, the process of putting on new wood is only part of the cycle that allows a tree to systematically grow. The rest of the year is spent hardening, growing in strength so that the new growth does not cause the tree to split. In times when I don’t see opportunities for “growth,” I need to look for ways to “solidify” what I have already learned. If I don’t do this, I may never be ready for the next season of growth.

One other thing about trees is that they love light and water. This is not really a focus of this part of Stanford’s book, but it makes me feel even better about being a tree. A tree is designed as an elaborate collection device for light, with leaves stretching up and out, forming a crown of leaves that are concentrated on the tree’s outermost reaches – so that the tree will come into contact with as much life-giving light as it can. Those same leaves reach skyward to catch water, and funnel that water back toward the trunk of the tree, ensuring that the tree gets as much water as it can. And the roots go deep, searching for water, growing stronger where water is found, feeding the tree from below as well as above.

So what’s this say about me?

I need the “light and water” of God’s presence and love in my life as much as any tree needs physical light and water. I need to be firmly rooted in the soil of His Word. I need to not panic during times that my growth seems to slow, but instead focus on solidifying lessons already learned, and putting them into practice. When all is working as intended, I will bear fruit in the proper time, and enjoy a life of strength and dignity, like a mighty oak. But I must remember, I am reaching skyward for light I cannot cause and rain I cannot bring; I dig downward in the soil for nutrients I cannot concoct and water I cannot supply; and the entire process of growth and strengthening is designed by Someone Else – I merely benefit from it when I do the things that a tree is supposed to do.

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, 5
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. 10

Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.

Joyce Kilmer

Indeed, and amen! And all these years, I’ve wanted to grow like a squash. Thank goodness God’s plans are different from mine.