Woodman's Parable

For many years, my favorite parable has been Jesus's story of The Sower, found in Matthew 13. It describes how not all seeds that are planted become productive. The birds eat some, some fall on rocky places or poor soil, some wither from shallow roots, and others are choked by thorns. The analogy is to the response of men when they hear of the kingdom of God.

Jesus typically used parables about things familiar to his listeners: planting, fishing, or sheep. I've sometimes wondered why He told no parables of wood, since His earthly father, Joseph, was a carpenter, and Jesus may have been taught the skills of that trade. I believe it was because carpentry was less familiar to his audience and might be less instructive to them.

For me, however, the Lord has had much to say through wood. I described much of it in my previous blog. Today, I would like to share more things He has revealed to me over the years, and especially in recent weeks, as I've toiled in the woods and by the woodpile.

A year or so ago, I came across a box of wood samples at a yard sale. It contained 18 varieties of wood, each with its distinctive character, grain, and attributes. Wood can be selected for fine furniture, construction, flooring, fuel, or pulp, according to its suitability.

At the woodpile, I am constantly confronted with the marked differences among the wood I split and stack. There are red oak, white oak, hickory, dogwood, sourwood, cedar, pine, blackgum, wild cherry, poplar, and numerous others. I mainly think in terms of what kind of heat the wood provides. In the pile below, the woods seem indistinguishable at a glance. But a closer examination reveals the unique quality of each.

Of the nearly 8 billion people inhabiting earth, it's easy to say we're all basically the same. Even when we try to discuss subgroups, we tend to generalize (i.e., Australians, eskimos, Europeans). No matter how much alike we may appear on the outside, God looks on the heart and knows us as the individuals we are.

When I split a piece of wood right down the middle, it often displays a perfect symmetry.

When God created us, He had in mind a perfect symmetry as well, that our life would reflect Christ, our Savior.

God knew also, even before Adam and Eve's fall from grace, that sin would be the barrier that prevented us from truly reflecting all the attributes of God, even though we would be created in His image.

The piece of wood below represents the unyielding heart of some men. The most powerful woodsplitter could not transform this stubborn log into two symmetrical pieces. What would famous railsplitter Abe Lincoln say about this one?!
This wood is caught up in itself, unwilling to let go. It can still be used for firewood, but for higher purposes it is unfit-- unprofitable, as the Bible would say. That is disappointing in a log of firewood, tragic in the life of a man.

These two oak logs could not be split by a hydraulic splitter. The splitter has an automatic shutoff that shuts down the motor when two much resistance is encountered. Much as the Holy Spirit can withdraw when its wooing is rejected time and again. Paul warns us not to grieve the Holy Spirit, nor to quench it. Again, the consequences are a human tragedy.

Know that it's not that God can't break our stubborn hearts. He will not force His love on us, but desires us to desire Him. But just as I proceeded to split those stubborn oaks with a few swings of my ax-maul (which didn't have a shut-off switch), one day we will all appear before God, and every knee shall bow, every tongue confess, that Jesus Christ is Lord (Philippians 2: 10-11).

The sin problem inherent in man is aptly portrayed through other flaws in wood. Though these flaws don't necessarily kill the tree, they may divert it from its purpose and render it less useful. This wood, when split, shows that it is rotten through and through. Known any people like that? Isn't God merciful? But His patience has an end.

This wood's grain is blackened by some mold, eating away at the tree from the inside out. Much as man's heart is sin-stained, though sometimes visible only to God.

This oak wood has been riddled with beetles, which damage the inner core of the tree, and eventually bring about its downfall (literally, sometimes). I have often collected beetles to take to my school class during my woodsplitting season. It seems that being relentlessly gnawed by the teeth and pincers of these insects is the ultimate fate of any oak tree, no matter how tall, strong, and stately it may once have been. The image is similar to that invoked in Isaiah 66:24 and stated by Jesus in Mark 9: 48. We are told that for those whose eternal punishment will be in hell, "their worm does not die, and the fire is not quenched." Worms, fire, or beetles. None of it is very appealing to me. God has a better plan for us.

As in the parable of the sower, many people today hear the Word of God, and it remains with them for a time. There is a "head knowledge" but there is no transformation of the heart, no rebirth, no salvation. This young oak with shallow roots was easily toppled. As in the parable of the sower (Luke 13: 20-21): The one who received the seed that fell on rocky places is the man who hears the word and at once receives it with joy. But since he has no root, he lasts only a short time. When trouble or persecution comes because of the word, he quickly falls away.

These oak logs are not the prettiest wood you'll ever see. They, too, bear the scars of storms, damage from constant assault over many years. But these heavy, sturdy oaks have persevered. Their grain remains straight and true. Though as strong as any wood in the pile, they submit to the splitter ungrudgingly, aware of their purpose. They are willing and ready to yield to the hand of the woodman, who has need of them for fuel. Unlike inferior woods, they'll burn long and slow, with a steady, even, penetrating heat. Though their trials have been many, they are comparable to the seed that fell on good soil in Jesus's parable.

That seed represents the man who hears the word and understands it. He produces a crop, yielding a hundred, sixty, or thirty times what was sown. That crop speaks of a vast sea of humanity in need of a Savior. We are so precious to Him. Like the wood, we each have our distinctive character, "grain," and attributes. But the yielding to God's will is the crucial part. As Jesus repeatedly importuned, He who has ears, let him hear.

As my dear pastor is fond of saying, when we bow before God's throne in heaven, wouldn't we wish to say:

"In my hand no price I bring, simply to the cross I cling."