If a tree could talk, one particular tree might say… “I recall the days when I was a glorious olive tree having a very unusual, you might say miraculous, experience. I lent my strength and beauty to its sturdy trunk and branches. Growing into a mighty force, I dreamed about what notable use I might fulfill: perhaps a grand structure, or part of a beautiful piece of art, or part of tools to fashion the household items of a distinguished family.
As the years went by, I wondered and dreamed if I was destined for greatness. At last, the day arrived when I felt the trembling of a saw. My time had come ; my next season of life had begun. The earth rocked with the thunder of my falling. But I was puzzled as I was formed into many long, heavy bars. I discovered I was to become crossbars for the crosses used in the crucifixion of people deemed to be criminals.
I was dismayed. I thought this would be an ignominious use of my glorious strength and potential beauty. One day, I was chosen to bear the weight of one such person. My weight was laid across His shoulders, and he began his uphill journey to a place outside the city, where there were many posts waiting for those who would breathe their last breath on Earth. When my surface touched Him, I felt inner vibration. He was not an ordinary person. I sensed something mysterious, even other-worldly.
The men who were in charge nailed His hands to me. Every strike of the nails seemed to defy all justice.
Those who came to be with Him were crying, some averting their eyes from His pain. I felt His pain and anguish penetrate deep into the grain of my wood as I shuddered with each hammer blow. As He suffered this extraordinary punishment, I heard the things He spoke.
He cried out, ‘Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.’ (Luke 23:34, NIV) What an astonishing statement for Someone to make in the midst of such personal suffering! Then He told someone nearby, perhaps the man on another cross, that that man would get to be with Him in paradise. (Luke 23:43, NIV) How could He promise such a thing? As I listened to His utterings, I realized this was a man like no other.
Although He addressed others, most of His words seemed to be addressed to God, yet more intimately than seemed logical. As time passed, I wondered who He really was. When He said, 'It is finished' (John 19:30), it seemed His death was purposeful. He seemed at peace and even as His last remark committed His spirit to God (Luke 23:46, NIV), I could tell that what He was saying meant more to others there than I understood.
Gradually, it became clear to me that He was more than man. He was somehow connected to God in a special and unique way. I, a humble piece of wood, could not know of His divinity. I only sensed what I’d experienced there that day.
Oh, the folly of wishing my destiny was grander, more celebrated by mere mortals, more valued by this world than any other. I had been chosen to witness and share in this crucifixion. As my scraps lay in the dry, desert air, I became broken and weathered beyond recognition. There is no monument or evidence of my greatness. Eventually, I became dust.
However, I had been a part of supporting and witnessing God as He weathered the most painful event of His existence. No one knew of my role, yet I was completely satisfied that my time of usefulness on earth had been the greatest privilege any tree in history could have had.”
Perhaps we too can view our contribution to God’s plan with a greater awareness of Christ’s death on that cross to pay for our sins. We have the further understanding of His resurrection and the future He has for us. Perhaps we might realize, with our knowledge of our small role in God’s far-reaching story, the beautiful significance of what He is asking of us and what He has designed for us.