A Tale of Two Trees
O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree, how you stand in verdant beauty! – Traditional Christmas Carol (German)
Cursed is anyone who is hanged on a tree. – Galatians, 3:13
When I was a senior in high school, the following conversation took place between Mr. G, the moderator of the school’s literary magazine, and me:
Mr. G: Hey, I signed you up for a poetry reading contest. I think you would do well.
Me: Great. Do we get to pick the poem?
Mr. G: Yes and no, they had a list of poems we could choose from and I picked two poems by Percy Shelley. You know, Ode to the West Wind?
Me: Shelley? Ode to the West Wind? Are you kidding me? No!
Mr. G: It’s a classic poem!
Me: Yes, it is. But like any classical literature, people want a copy on their coffee table but they don’t want to actually read it. Didn’t they have any TS Elliot?
Mr. G: Yes, they did but Elliot is so down and depressing.
Me: But I was born to read TS Elliot!
Mr. G: Case in point…
Needless to say, despite my astute, impassioned rendition of Ode to the West Wind, the winner of the poetry contest was the person who read T.S. Elliot’s Journey of the Magi (and yes, I would have read it better). The point of my sharing this story is that in Elliot’s poem Journey of the Magi are the following lines:
All this was a long time ago, I remember,
And I would do it again, but set down
This set down
This: were we led all that way for
Birth or death? There was a Birth, certainly
We had evidence and no doubt I had seen birth and death,
But had thought they were different; this Birth was
Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death.
We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,
But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,
With an alien people clutching their gods.
I should be glad of another death.
One of the Magi is reflecting on the journey he had made a long time ago because an astronomical event in the stars had indicated the birth of a king – and not just any king. A King of Kings. And so, the wise men from the East set out to honor this King. And much to their surprise, the star led them to a stable in Bethlehem, to a young Jewish girl and her carpenter husband, and – to the King of Kings who lay as a baby in a manger. No pomp and circumstance. No fresh water and linen nor a long line of attendants. Rather, oxen, lambs, and shepherds, in a dirty, damp and smelly stable. Hardly the scene one would imagine for royalty. In Elliot’s poem, one of the Magi is considering what was the real event they were witnessing: a birth? Or was it really a death? It is a profound thought in that when we think about a baby, we think about all the joy, all the innocence, all the promise, all the potential, all the life ahead of that new-born – not of death.
Which brings me to the title of this essay: A Tale of Two Trees. It’s Christmas, and the central symbol of the season is the Christmas Tree. Decorated with lights, ornaments, garland, pictures, gingerbread men, candy canes and topped off with a shining star. Usually an evergreen tree, it represents joy, innocence, promise, potential, and life. It can be argued that the Christmas Tree is an ideal symbol of blessings, hope, renewal and love.
But it is only the opening act. And without the finale, it doesn’t deliver on those blessings, hope, renewal and love.
According to Christian belief and faith, Christmas commemorates and celebrates the birth of Jesus Christ, the Son of God who humbled Himself to be born as a human being.
The life, words and example of Jesus Christ are inspiring. He was perfect. Most of all, He was the perfect gift. He was the perfect gift not because He was born in a manger in a stable in Bethlehem and thus inspired the season of Christmas for centuries. And not because of the miracles, not because of the Beatitudes, not because He said nice things, helped the poor, fed the hungry, healed the sick, raised the dead, and stood up to the oppression of religious authority.
He was the perfect gift because He died on a tree. And because He chose to lay down His life as a sacrifice to save our souls and reconcile the lost sinner to a loving Father. And by that one act alone, by laying down His life, He paid for all our sins – past, present and future.
Towards the end of his life, the great preacher Billy Graham was asked two questions. The first question was “what surprised him most about life?” Billy’s response was “how quickly the time passes.” The second question was “what he would have done different with his ministry?” Billy’s response was “I would have preached more on Jesus at Calvary, on the blood and the Cross.”
“Cursed is anyone who is hanged on a tree.” A cross was made from a tree. And Jesus hung on that tree/cross. Jesus was the perfect Son of God. He didn’t have to die. He was not a cursed person. But He chose to step in and to take our place – we, who are sinners by nature, and thus cursed in our humanity because of our selfish instincts and desires.
God gave us the perfect gift – the gift of eternal life with Him in heaven. But that gift cost God a price that is unimaginable: the scourging and death of His Only Begotten Son, in the most horrific death sentence in human history - a Roman crucifixion.
He was pieced for our transgressions. He was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed. (Isaiah 53:5)
Jesus Christ was nailed to a tree and paid our sin debt in full. The greatest gift ever given by anyone.
Without the death of Christ on that tree, the Christmas Tree has no real value. Yes, the Christmas Tree is lovely to look at, and stirs certain emotions, and warms the heart. But without the Calvary Tree, the Christmas Tree is a vain symbol. Vain because without the Calvary Tree, its promise of hope, peace, joy, renewal and love is empty.
I have spoken with people throughout my life who have expressed skepticism of a God, some who outright declared that they don’t believe in God at all. I have heard others just state their indifference, going so far as to say, “alright, even if there is a God, what has He ever done for me?” But of all the people who I have conversed with on this subject, the ones that I am most baffled with are those who are parents, especially with young children. I posed the question to them: “You of course love your children. They’re your whole life. Wouldn’t you want to believe and know that one day, you will spend eternity with them, and be in a place where there is no more sorrow, no more tears, no more sickness, no more death? And that you will never be separated from them again? Wouldn’t you want that – for them? For yourself?” More often than not, they would just shrug their shoulders and say “it doesn’t matter.”
But it does matter. It’s the only thing in life that does matter. And it goes for any and all of us – not just those of us who have children. But for anyone who feels love toward anyone else -whether it be a child, a parent, a grandparent, a sibling, a spouse, a friend. The thought of having the opportunity to spend eternity – as the song Amazing Grace so aptly puts it - when we’ve been there ten thousand years/bright shining as the sun/we’ll have no less days to sing God’s praise/than when we first begun – with those we love and cherish – and even more importantly, with the God and Savior who created us and loves us beyond any human understanding – that, that is the greatest gift of all. Who would refuse such a gift? Too good to be true? It’s too good not to be true!
C.S. Lewis wrote that joy is the serious business of heaven. And that joy emanates from the reconciliation of all of us children with our heavenly Father, made possible by the gift of Jesus’ death and resurrection.
So, at this time of year, when we gather as the best we can, around the Christmas Tree, it is right to bask in the hope, promise, joy, renewal, and love it represents. But remember, the true joy and promise and ultimate gift of love at Christmas hangs on the Calvary Tree.
As my sister Regina wrote in a Christmas card to me many years ago, when I was in eighth grade, “wise men still seek Him.”
Peace and love.
