Part 9 (1/2)

”And Jotham went and stood on the top of Mount Gerizim and lifted up his voice and said, 'Hearken unto me, ye men of Shechem. * * * The trees went forth on a time to anoint a king over them and they said unto the olive tree, ”Reign over us” (or, as one of the versions so suggestively translates the Hebrew, ”Wave your branches over us”).'”

The olive also held a most conspicuous place in the religious life of the peoples of the Promised Land. Indeed, in the building of Solomon's temple 480 years after the Babylonian captivity, the olive wood was honored by being used in completing the most sacred parts of the edifice. The cherubims, the sacred symbols of Divine wisdom, one on each side of the oracle and each with wings five feet long extending over the temple walls, were made of the olive tree.

In fact, the book of First Kings shows that the olive wood was built into most of the conspicuous parts of the temple, in these definite words:

”And for the entering of the oracle, be made doors of the olive tree; the lintel and side posts were a fifth part of the wall. So was also made for the door of the temple posts of the olive tree, a fourth part of the wall.”

Not only was the olive given a primary place industrially and religiously; but it was also pressed into service on festive occasions of joy, commemorating historic events. It was used at the great feast of the Tabernacles, in constructing the booths, made princ.i.p.ally of olive branches, intermingled with branches from other trees. And when spring hangs her infant blossoms on California's thousands of olive trees, rocked in the cradle of the western breeze, we will not fail to understand why Nehemiah reminds us of the early Jews' deep appreciation of the olive branch as a symbol of joy, in these words:

”So the people went forth and brought them olive branches (with pine and myrtle) and made themselves booths, every one upon the roof of his house, and in their courts. And all the congregation of them that were come again out of the captivity made booths and sat under booths, and there was very great gladness.”

And the Psalmist himself must have been inspired by the joy that came from the prosperity of these olive groves, when he wrote, in the one hundred and twenty-eighth Psalm:

”For thou shalt eat the labor of thine hands, happy shalt thou be, and it shall be well with thee. Thy children shall be like olive plants round about thy table.”

Indeed, with the Greeks and Romans, the Israelites found that there was no tree that could be used for so many purposes as the olive--its fruit for food, its wood for costly decorations, its branches and blossoms for festive occasions, and its oil for medicine and light. For not only was the olive itself used, but the oil was also used for the anointing of the bodies of the sick, the captive and the dead. And the oil was likewise valued for illuminating purposes in the lamps and vessels in the tabernacle. And how highly they regarded it, we can fully understand by reading these words from Leviticus:

”Command the children of Israel that they bring in to thee pure oil of olive beaten for the light to cause the lamps to burn continually.”

There was no spot in all of Palestine that Christ loved to frequent more than the Mount of Olives, to which he retired for meditation and rest.

And why was this? It may have been because of the general outlook that he gained upon nature; which is doubtless true in part. But it was not the primary nor exclusive reason why He resorted to the Mount of Olives.

For if there are tongues in trees, as well as sermons in stones, I thoroughly believe that those beautiful olive groves must have said something to His observing mind. What was it? Why did He go to the Mount of Olives?

Perhaps it was because the olive is the symbol of peace. As Ovid said, ”In war the olive branch of peace is in use.” So the olive groves which the poet Browning says ”have the fittest foliage for dreams,” may have helped Him in coming from the turmoil of Jerusalem to regain calm and self-control for a warring soul.

Or, as He walked through the orchards, noticing that each tree was sympathetic to the rest and that each appeared to be a neighbor to the rest, He may have been inspired by thoughts similar to those of the eloquent naturalist who said, ”The trees live but to love and in all the groves the happy trees love each his neighbor.” And as a result He found it more possible to return to His work with a quickened love for His fellow-men.

Or perhaps suggestions for chivalrous meekness came to Him as He observed the gray foliage of the trees modestly glistening in the sunlight. It might have helped Him to say, ”Blessed are the meek.”

It may have been that the inspiration of timeless time, the power of eternal years, was awakened in His thought by the knowledge of the marvelous age of those trees. He may have known that well cared for trees will live for three hundred years and even longer. For so great is the olive's hold on life that even when a dying tree is cut down close to the ground, its vigorous root will give birth to still another tree.

Or it may have been that the Mount of Olives, clothed with green beauty, like many of our own olive-planted foothills, helped Him more to find the spiritual inspiration of nature than a trip to some other, bald and naked, mountain; helped Him to say:

”All are but parts of one stupendous whole Whose body Nature is, and G.o.d the soul; Great in the earth as in the ethereal frame; Warms in the sun, refreshes in the breeze, Glows in the stars and blossoms in the trees.”

All these inferences may be true and doubtless are in part. But--if I dare say it--it seems to me that the primary lesson that Christ learned in frequenting the Mount of Olives was the importance of fruitfulness of life. For the predominant characteristic of the olive is fruitfulness.

So much so that Spencer in his ”Faerie Queen” speaks of the warlike birch--”the beech for shafts,” ”the ash for nothing ill,” ”the willow for forlorn paramours;” but always and every time, he speaks of the olive as the ”fruitful olive.”

And this is the reason why the olive should wave its branches over the other trees. For, like manna, it is a composite growth--a food, a fruit, a medicine. Always fruitful for a three-fold end; and never failing to be prolific, the trees bearing even for centuries.

And this is why the prophet Jotham reports the trees as first urging the olive to become king; and why he felt disappointed when the olive tree, in the beginning, refused, saying:

”Should I leave my fatness, wherewith by me they honor G.o.d and man, and go to be promoted over the trees?”

For, according to the fable, the trees after consulting the fig and vine were finally compelled to temporarily enthrone the worthless bramble as king, even as Israel had selected the most incompetent man for ruler, instead of choosing the most efficient statesman who was available.

But justice and good judgment would not long tolerate the rule of a worthless potentate. So they ultimately succeeded in enthroning a worthy king, in throwing away the bramble and finally crowning the olive to wave its branches modestly but worthily over the other fruit-bearing trees.