Parable of the Trees - Judges 9:8-15

We come to look at a parable, the parable of the trees. Most likely, when we talk about parables, our thoughts immediately go to the Good Samaritan, the Prodigal Son, the yeast, the pearl, the sower etc. etc. – all those stories that Jesus told that provide so much of how we understand our faith. And, of course, that’s what parables do – they enrich our understanding. They help ius to translate the great concepts of faith into practical action. One very brief definition that may help is to describe a parable as “an earthly story that speaks beyond itself.”

Many would say that Jesus’ parables are unique, and I am inclined to agree. There is certainly something very special about them. However, that does not mean that this particular mode of communication is not used elsewhere. There are a number of parables scattered through the Old Testament and, though Judges is perhaps not the first place we would look, here is one.
But let’s first, as we so often helpfully do with the parables of Jesus, set the context. The nation of Israel had spent forty years wandering through the wilderness, after fleeing from the oppressive Egyptian regime. Finally Joshua had led them into the promised land – and the book of Judges gives us some of the story of what happened in that early period in the land of Canaan before the establishment of the monarchy. The stories of this particular Old Testament book describe the exploits of a succession of national heroes who were called ‘judges’. The title does not really refer to a judge in the legal kind of context that we might expect and, actually and ironically, this was a fairly lawless period. In fact, to a large extent, these were military leaders. Interestingly, women could gain prominence at that time, as Deborah is one of these judges. She appears fairly early in the book – chapters 4 and 5. Another prominent – and colourful – character is Samson – in chapters 13, 14 and 15.

One of the most famous is Gideon – and his story is told in chapters 6, 7 and 8. On the whole Gideon has quite a good reputation for his faith in God, but what is less known and recognised is what happened at the end of his life. The people tried to make Gideon their king, but he refused. But what he did do was allow them to make a massive idol which became a focal point of worship and, after his death, the people further developed the worship of idols.

Gideon had seventy sons, one of whom was Abimelech. His mother was one of Gideon’s concubines, and she was from Shechem. After Gideon’s death Abimelech and his mother went to Shechem and conspired with the people there to have Abimelech declared as king. After all, he was one of them – and that was achieved by the killing of all his brothers – except that one, the youngest, managed to escape.

When Jotham heard what had happened as the follow-up to the mass murder, namely that Abimelech had been made king, he went to a prominent location, Mouth Gerizim, and told this parable. This is a significant location for this action. Deuteronomy 27 records the command of Moses that, when the people have entered the Promised Land, some are to climb Mount Gerizim from where blessings for obedience are to be pronounced. Others are to climb Mount Ebal – and from there curses on disobedience will be pronounced. In many ways Jotham’s story stands in the classic prophetic tradition of condemning the people’s unfaithfulness. But he chooses Gerizim, not Ebal.

Perhaps the location is designed to emphasise that Jotham is leaving the judgment of the people’s actions to God. That fits, I think, with the ethos of the book. E. John Hamlin, in the introduction to his commentary on Judges, suggests; “The Promised Land in Judges is neither heaven nor haven. It is the God-given arena where the gifts of freedom and security are constantly threatened both from without and from within and are preserved or lost by real people. God is seen to be present behind the scenes as Judge and Saviour.”

The parable, like all good parables, is a fairly simple story though is at variance from most parables in that it features talking trees. This, then, is not something that would actually have happened – but there is no great difficulty in exploring the lessons of the story. In short, the trees are looking for a king. They approach three fruit-bearing trees, the olive tree, the fig tree and the vine. They ask each of them, in turn, to become king. These are surely the trees with the best qualifications. They each make significant contribution to the enjoyment on life. Their credentials are thus impeccable. But they each feel that what they are doing at the moment is enough, and more than that even, it is the right thing. What leave my rich oil by which gods and men are honoured, to go and hold sway over the trees? .... What, leave my good fruit and all its sweetness, to go and hold sway over the trees? .... What, leave my new wine which gladdens gods and men, to go and hold sway over the trees?

And so the trees need to look elsewhere – and they do. They look to the thorn bush. It is clear that the thorn bush would not have been considered if the others had not refused first. The thorn bush is surprised at the approach. It surely knows both that it is unsuitable and that it is the last resort. But it also sees an opportunity. If you really mean to anoint me as your king, then come under the protection of my shadow; if not, fire will come out of the thorn and burn up the cedars of Lebanon. Here effectively the thorn bush boasts of what it cannot offer. It has no fruit to contribute to life – and getting in its shade is not likely to be a pleasant business. You really need to prostrate yourself on the ground to get low enough and shade comes at the price of getting scratched. There is also a threat. The thorn bush burns easily. If it needs to destroy to keep its place, then it will. The moral, as one commentary suggests, is that: “foolish and wicked people will boldly usurp positions of power and influence that wise and good people tend to avoid.”

There are perhaps three things to draw from the story.

Abimelech, the thorn bush in the parable, was the wrong person to be king. Corruption destroys what’s good. In choosing the thorn bush, the other trees were setting themselves up to be destroyed.

Secondly, the men of Shechem didn’t act in good faith and honour. Rather they were out for themselves. They acted out of clan pride, very much ignoring what God had done through Gideon.

The result of their desertion of the covenant was the initiating of a cycle of destruction.
But the more important question for us is what does this mean for us?

I am grateful to Stephen Cottrell for pointing me in the direction of this parable which he quotes at the beginning of his little book “Hit the ground kneeling”. At the end of the book he revisits the parable – and asks some questions.

What does it mean? What does it tell you about the vocation to lead and the inter-relatedness of different gifts and callings? What upside-down wisdom does it point to? How does it help shape your vocation to lead?