Reforesting Faith

Days can go by and I scarcely notice them, yet my life is critically dependent upon them. And there’s so many of them all around me, in an array of sizes and shapes and minute characteristics. I’m talking about trees. And so is Matthew Sleeth in his wonderful little book, Reforesting Faith: What Trees Teach Us About the Nature of God and His Love for Us. Very early on, Sleeth confronts us with our negligence by sharing his own love for trees—a love, he recounts, that began early in childhood and has only expanded since. But it didn’t come easily, as if he were taking a leisurely stroll in the woods.

The author is a medical doctor who became fully entrenched in an atheistic, science-is-the-answer mindset. Until tragedy struck, in waves. As he put it, “The harder I worked to pull things together, the more our lives unraveled. The darkness would not lift. My supply of optimism ran dry.” (13) His faith in science utterly failed him. Then he picked up a Bible and began to read, was introduced to Jesus, trusted Him as Savior, and began a journey of life-transformation.

His newfound faith ultimately led him back to the forest, in a way. He launched into an in-depth study of trees in the Bible and discovered something amazing: “God has an astounding fondness for trees.” (p. 16) Here is one of the ways Sleeth’s book impacted me. As a pastor, I’ve been studying, teaching, and preaching the Bible for nearly forty years, but failed to notice the significant role trees play throughout the sacred pages. Sure, I knew well the place of the major ones—the trees in the Garden of Eden, the “tree of life” in Revelation, and the tree—or cross—of Calvary. Beyond that, though, the role of trees in the Bible was like the cast of extras in the movie The Ten Commandments—they’re there, but you don’t really pay much attention to them. Dr. Sleeth paid attention.

“Other than God and people,” he notes, “the Bible mentions trees more than any other living thing. There is a tree on the first page of Genesis, in the first psalm, on the first page of the New Testament, and on the last page of Revelation. Every significant theological event in the Bible is marked by a tree. Whether it is the Fall, the Flood, or the overthrow of Pharaoh, every major event in the Bible has a tree, branch, fruit, seed, or some part of a tree marking the spot.” (17)

From here, the reader embarks on a journey through the biblical forest and discovers trees everywhere—and they are not mere extras on a movie set. Sleeth demonstrates the significance of:

• The nature of trees and their importance in God’s creation. “Trees point toward who God is, who we are, how the world works, and why evil exists.” (26)
• The two trees in Paradise
• The wood used in Noah’s ark
• The olive branch
• Abraham’s oak tree
• The first planted tree
• Isaac’s wooden “cross” and the thicket that captured a ram
• Jacob’s almond trees and stripped branches
• Joseph, the fruitful branch
• Judah’s wooden staff
• The burning—but not consumed—bush
• Moses’s walking stick—and so much more!
• Sweet wood and palm springs
• The misuse of trees in the worship of false gods
• The many trees in the story of Gideon
• Job’s tree of hope
• Jonah’s tree of conviction
• Jesus, the tree of life, nailed to a tree of wood
• Jesus, the true vine
• Jesus’ use of trees in his teaching
• The refreshment of an olive grove
• The paradox of the fig tree

It’s a rather fascinating journey through this forest, and along the way the following ideas reached out like tree branches and snagged my attention, so that I’d pause a moment to take them in hand. 

Without humans, trees would manage just fine. Without trees, people would perish.…we all run on trees. (29)

 

Trees have a way of bridging generations, connecting us with the past and inviting us to dream of the future. When we plant and tend trees, we imitate God. (33)

 

One of the dangers of not pausing to appreciate the glories of creation—including the trees in God’s world and God’s Word—is that we limit our ability to appreciate what God is up to.…God did not speak to Moses until Moses noticed the burning bush. If we want to hear from God, we need to pay attention to miracles God places in front of us—even if it means turning off the television. (70-71)

 

The human body runs on oxygen and the energy stored in carbon bonds. That’s how our bodies work. The human soul was built to run on communion with God. That’s how our souls work.

 

Trees are always trying to come back to life. Cut one down, and the story isn’t necessarily over. (97)

 

I don’t think it’s an accident that as God is trying to teach short-lived humanity about time on a vaster scale, he uses trees. (101)

 

Having plenty of trees on earth a hundred years from now is in everyone’s best interest. (118)

 

By definition, planting a tree is the only thing you can do in your own back yard that makes the whole world a better place. (122)

 

Like trees, Jesus gives life. Fallen humanity, however, has a habit of choosing the things that take life away. We reject Jesus, we disobey God, and we walk away from the tree of life. (133)

 

When humans become the measure of all things, by definition we end up with a God no bigger than ourselves. (157)

 

When we are tired, when we are discouraged, when we are frustrated, when we are downcast, we need to do what Jesus did: seek solace in the woods. (159)

 

Through the Messiah’s death we are offered life. Through his sacrifice our sins are forgiven. None of this works without a tree (175)

 

Trees are the only things from our childhood that are bigger when we go back and visit them as adults. Our faith should be like that. (190)

Dr. Sleeth concludes by sharing a two-fold reason for writing. First, to get readers to think about how they are stewarding the trees, both the physical trees we need for oxygen and life on the planet, and the spiritual “tree of life,” God’s Word. Second, to spur to action: to plant trees, care for trees, and protect them from profligate destruction.

Upon reading his second purpose, in my mind I returned to Vermont, the Green Mountain State. While originally named for the color of the granite, one could easily assume today that the state received the moniker because of the lush green forests that blanket the various mountain ranges. Yet it wasn’t always so lush. I’ve seen photographs of those same mountains from the late 1800s, and many of the mountains were virtually denuded of every tree. They were bleak, dismal, foreboding sights. Gratefully, for the sake of the generations to come, forward-looking concerned tree lovers pushed for the reforestation and protection of those desolate mountains. Today, thousands of tourists visit the state annually to take in the spectacle of the Green Mountains ablaze in red and orange and gold. Every Spring, millions of gallons of maple syrup are produced from the sap of those same trees. And every day, the quality of the air that fills the lungs is nearly unsurpassed in the northeast.

I closed the book thankful for the trees in my yard, the ones I planted as saplings and those planted a generation or two before me. And I was thinking about where else I could plant a few.

I also began to notice trees in my Bible in places I’d missed before.