“The trees went forth on a time to anoint a king over them; and they said unto the olive tree, Reign thou over us. But the olive tree said unto them, Should I leave my fatness, wherewith by me they honour God and man, and go to be promoted over the trees? And the trees said to the fig tree, Come thou, and reign over us. But the fig tree said unto them, Should I forsake my sweetness, and my good fruit, and go to be promoted over the trees? Then said the trees unto the vine, Come thou, and reign over us. And the vine said unto them, Should I leave my wine, which cheereth God and man, and go to be promoted over the trees? Then said all the trees unto the bramble, Come thou, and reign over us. And the bramble said unto the trees, If in truth ye anoint me king over you, then come and put your trust in my shadow: and if not, let fire come out of the bramble, and devour the cedars of Lebanon.” (Judges 9:8-15). We do not choose Christ to be our king merely because, like the olive tree, He can enrich our lives with the fat of the land and the good things of life that we might more easily honor God for making our lives so full of abundance. We do not choose Christ to be our king merely because, like the fig tree, He fills us with the sweetness of the fruits of the Spirit. We do not choose Christ to be our king merely because, like the vine, He fills us with good cheer. Make no mistake, Christ can and does fill our lives with the fat of the land and the fruits of the gospel and lifts our spirits with good cheer. But there is more to life than sunshine and rainbows. When the devouring flame comes raging towards us, we choose Christ as our king because, like the lowly Bramble with His crown of thorns, Christ's shadow can shelter us from the blazing inferno and save us from being consumed. It would be nice to live always in peace and bask beneath the olive branches of a benevolent king who pours out the ever flowing oil of abundance. But war and chaos rage more often than not and we need a king who is accustomed to the sharp points of turmoil and strife. It would be nice if everything and everyone were always sweet and kind and we could gorge ourselves on the overladen boughs of fruit that is sweet above all that is sweet. But life is not always sweet and we need a King who has not merely tasted but has practically drowned in the depths of bitterness. It would be nice to be perpetually drunk on the blissful cheerfulness of a vineyard unmarred by grief or pain. But none of us have been spared our share of heartache and so we need a King of sorrows, acquainted with grief. A crown of thorns may not have our first choice, but when the olive tree and the fig tree and the grapevine have all been devoured by fire, the fatness of their oil and the sweetness of their fruit and the cheer of their wine having gone literally up in smoke, then it seems like the most obvious choice in the world to hide in the shadow of the Bramble if the flames can not touch Him or any of those who call Him King.
