Today I Planted an Olive Tree

     Today, I planted an olive tree. I planted it in the church yard. Our church has a lovely garden that, like much of the island of Grand Bahama, was decimated by Hurricane Matthew that came roaring through the Bahamas on October 6, 2016.

There were many and varied responses to the devastation of the hurricane, both by our church and by people in the United States and elsewhere. People gave money. People brought food and water to communities that were devastated by the storm. People brought tarps and blankets for those who had the most severe damage. And people are still helping with roof repair and building supplies and temporary housing where necessary.

Many of these things were done by our own church. Our Crossreach ministry has been in place for years and so we had the infrastructure to help facilitate the distribution of many of the donations that were made. We are still doing that. I am proud to be part of a church that takes so seriously the biblical call to help the poor and needy.

But I planted an olive tree. It seems an odd response to all that has happened. Why in the world would I do such a thing? I did it for several reasons. Our church has a lovely garden, as I have said, and I did it partially to help restore its beauty. Many trees and shrubs were stripped bare, and others were literally ripped out of the ground by the 150 mph wind. It was sad for me to see the grounds in that condition.  I like to walk in the garden and look at the plants. I like to think about the One who made them, and me, and what God’s plan might be for the future. So, I planted an olive tree.

There is a Messianic passage in Isaiah 11 that we often read during Advent. “A shoot will come up from the stump of Jesse; from his roots a Branch will bear fruit. The Spirit of the Lord will rest upon him…” As this tree grows and (hopefully) bears fruit, it will remind me of this passage.

Isaiah wrote hundreds of years before Jesus was born. Prophets are notorious for their long game. They are concerned about what God is doing now, but they also have an eye to what God will do in years to come, sometimes many years to come. Olive trees are extremely long-lived. Many are documented to have lived for hundreds of years. Perhaps this one will as well, and it will remind me that God has a long term plan in place, not just a short one.

Several years ago, I had the opportunity to travel to Israel and one of our stops was the Garden of Gethsemane. It was quite moving to think that in this very place, Jesus poured out his heart to his Father and said, “Not my will be done, but Thine.” Maybe in years to come, I can sit under that tree and pray the same prayer. I think that most Christians don’t say it nearly enough.

The tree also reminds me that, much like the olive garden where Jesus prayed, we often have to go through difficult and trying times to get to God’s blessing and salvation on the other side. Jesus saw the big picture, and he knew what lay on the other side of the pain and suffering he was about to experience. Unfortunately, we cannot see what lies beyond our pain. We don’t know what it all means or what purpose it may serve. But, perhaps this tree will serve to remind me that there is suffering that leads to salvation and resurrection. It is still suffering, but is, or at least can be, redemptive. Perhaps that will help me to endure, and even, as Paul is somehow able to do, rejoice in suffering.

It is ironic that on two occasions when I have preached on theodicy, (the question of why we suffer when we believe in a good and powerful God) there has been unprecedented disaster. The first time this happened, I was preaching through The Lord’s Prayer, and when I reached the phrase, “Thy will be done,” it was the second week of September, 2001. The Tuesday before I was to preach that sermon, the towers in New York City came crashing to the ground, and with them many people’s faith and confidence in God

Strangely, as I was to preach on the “Difficult Question” of Why Good People Suffer, the island where I live was devastated by the worst hurricane to hit this island in recorded history. Maybe I shouldn’t preach on that anymore!

Or, maybe God is trying to remind me, and the congregations I serve, that there is mercy and there is hope, even when the darkness is all around. There is purpose and there is redemption in suffering. We may not see it, but God can use it to build up His kingdom.

That’s why I planted an olive tree today.

Tedium

I was working on my regular Bible study in Philippians, when I ran across this gem from A. T. Robertson:

"The dull monotony of religious routine palls on a person. But there is but one thing to do, and that is to keep on going in the same path. There is monotony in work, the tedium of household cares, the grind of church services, the petty details of pastoral life, the minutiae of scholarship and all forms of Bible study, the treadmill of spiritual exercises (prayer, reading the Scriptures, singing, church attendance, work for Christ), the humdrum of things like three meals a day and going to bed every night—these things tend to pall on the sensitive spirit. But we shall die if we do not eat, sleep, walk, work, breathe. We shall die without the common details in the spiritual life. The lesson for our time is precisely this—to keep at it."

For many of us, that is precisely the problem. We want our lives to be interesting and exciting. The same for our faith, or "spirituality." We don't want tedium. And yet, almost anything amazing that has been accomplished has been preceded by a vast amount of tedium. Olympic athletes work out daily for years to achieve their goals. The same is true for musicians, artists, and intellectuals in almost any field you can name. Why should we think the life of the Spirit should be any different?

I am probably as bad as anyone in that I want things to happen instantly and immediately. Most things in life don't work that way. Babies take months to be born, and then years to grow to maturity. The same is true in our spiritual lives. We can't be mature believers right away, and we won't ever be if we don't do the hard work of spiritual exercise. Just like physical exercise, it's not fun, but it yields incredible rewards, if only we will keep at it.