Maybe It's Not Just a Tree After All
Our friendship was unlikely, but nothing short of one of the sweetest gifts in my life to date.
She was my boss. I was her subordinate.
She was Jewish. I was Christian.
She was from New York. I was from Texas.
Yet God in his goodness knew we needed each other in that season of life.
We would squeeze in every opportunity we could to just talk about our stories, our upbringings, and our questions. We read books together, respectively dissecting each other’s beliefs, curious and careful to learn together. Despite our opposites, we connected at such a depth I can barely describe it even now, each an undeserved gift to the other.
“Do you think I could put up a Christmas tree,” she asked me hesitantly one day.
Taken back, I prodded further.
“I have always wondered if I could put up a tree, and just use blue and silver decorations instead,” she explained, wanting to honor both her Jewish heritage and her husband’s Catholic background.
“Of course!” I exclaimed. “The tree has little to do with Jesus,” I told her confidently at the time. “It’s just a secular expression of the season.”
Over the years, however, I’ve been reminded how little I understood the tree those fifteen years ago.
You see, it’s easy as someone who holds Christ in the center of all things to grow in frustration at the increasing commercialization of Christmas that I almost want nothing to do with it at all. Competitions ensue for the brightest light displays, decorators hired for Pinterest-worthy trees, and stores bid for my online orders. There is also the fact that December is not even the actual month of Jesus’s birth anyway.
I’m confident that my protesting won’t change the course of our culture—there’s too much money wrapped up in it all, but what I didn’t understand until the last few years is how much our trees actually do set the stage for the redemptive story of Christ. They put in perspective our greatest longings. Allow me to share more.
the tree provides us light.
Each morning of the Advent season, my heart is willingly beckoned out of my cozy bed in the early hours. What is admittedly a disciplined chore in other seasons becomes a delightful desire in this one as I settle in the chair opposite my tree. Not quite ready for overhead or lamp light, the tree lights provide the ideal glow to read a daily devotion and awake from the previous night’s slumber.
If there is one element of Christmas I wish to carry with me throughout the entire year, it would be the lights. Each one is delicate but contains an underestimated, transforming power when strung together. Connected to their power source, they brighten the darkest of shadows and change the ambiance of any setting. We in our collective humanity are delicately strung together on this path of life and likewise are invited to shine brightly in the darkest recesses of this broken world. But, that’s not all.
Each light represents our Savior, the Light of the World, who willingly came to rescue and redeem us from eternal darkness. We are reminded, though we walk through seasons of darkness, we do not have to live in fear because of Emmanuel, God with us. His presence is a daily light for our paths ahead, and a comfort that lasts well beyond any holiday season. As you gaze at lights and drive by displays, soak in the wonder of the true source of light and allow it to illuminate the dark places of your soul this season. We are desperate for it.
“Again Jesus spoke to them, saying, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” - John 8:12 ESV
the tree keeps us rooted.
The tree is actually what keeps us rooted in the meaning of it all. Not one of us can admire a trunk stretching full of branches without an awareness of roots grounded deep below the surface. So too with our faith, we cannot expect to grow and produce fruit in our lives apart from being rooted in truth on a daily basis. We know this, but the tree actually keeps us rooted to the history of our faith.
It also represents another tree, the Jesse tree, that follows a remnant of God’s family preserved and protected throughout generations. We can trace back story after story (some incredibly difficult to digest) that create the timeline of Christ.
In Isaiah 11:1-2 ESV, we read, “There shall come forth a shoot from the stump of Jesse, and a branch from his roots shall bear fruit. And the Spirit of the Lord shall rest upon him, the Spirit of wisdom and understanding, the Spirit of counsel and might, the Spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord.”
Tim Keller, a New York City based pastor and theologian shared in one of his advent devotions, “Have you ever seen what looked like a dead tree stump that had small green shoots growing out of the roots near the bottom? That’s the image Isaiah was using. When everything looked dead, finished, hopeless, that’s when the Messiah came!”
So, as you look at your tree this season, remember two things:
1) If you believe in this God incarnate, then know you are rooted to something much deeper than your current circumstances or state of emotion. For me that is good news.
2) For those areas that feel dead or unfruitful, remain confident that God is still working.
the tree gives us hope
The Christmas tree also gives us hope for all of the brokenness in our lives and in our own family trees. Tim Keller shares HERE in this video about how much we can learn from the family tree of Jesus and why His genealogy begins the gospel of Matthew.
If you are like me, though, there are times when I wonder if my life will ever amount to anything significant. My emotions ride up and down a roller coaster representing degrees of assurance. Yet as I look at the family tree of Jesus, while there remain countless mysteries, the undisputed truth is that He used ordinary people and deeply painful pasts to accomplish His purposes. I don’t know about you, but that gives me hope.
The areas of my life that still appear like one giant mess or disappointment also still possess the opportunity to become something meaningful. A meaning not obtained by my own effort, but because I know a Savior that will make it beautiful in time. We have a choice as to what we believe and the family tree of God Himself gives me hope for my own.
This family tree, stretching back to the Adam and Eve in the very beginning, reminds me that I am connected to my Jewish friend and to you. Her faith, your faith, and mine are intertwined around this tree, and the beauty of that is significant to me and gives me hope for tomorrow.
So that tree, you know the one facing you in the store, in the living room, or on the screen? Maybe it isn’t just a tree after all.
