Of all natural objects trees have the closest fellowship with man.
When growing together in dense primeval forests they indeed exclude his presence, and the gloom and solitude produce an awe as of the supernatural world. But in the open cultivated spaces around his home they become domesticated, and are regarded with a sentiment akin to affection. God first talked with man under their shadow; man’s first worship was helped, if not inspired, by the solemn sights and sounds of the grove, the flitting lights and shades as of mysterious shapes, and the whispered secrets of the leaves; and the pillared aisles and groined interlacing of branches first suggested to him the ideas of architectural beauty which grew into permanent shape in the house of prayer. The heart twines around them some of its most fragrant memories; and at the end of every vista of the vanished years we see through the golden light a favourite tree associated with some cherished Incident of the past. Trees are often planted as memorials of visits to celebrated scenes, or at the birth of an heir to an estate. (H. Macmillan, D. D.)
As the days of a tree
These human associations give to the emblem of the prophet a touching significance. It is a very appropriate emblem. The comparison between the two kinds of life is very close. In every particular connected with organic existence, in the laws of their development, decay and reproduction, trees and human beings are complete counterparts of one another. Even their structure to a certain extent is similar. The leaves correspond to the lungs and digestive organs; the blossoms represent the distinctions of sex; and the names of trunk, arms, and limbs are given indiscriminately to similar parts of both organisms. But if we inquire what a tree really is, we shall find in the emblem a correspondence still more profound. A tree is generally supposed to be a single individual, in the same sense that a man is an individual. It passes through a period of youth, maturity and old age. It has a fixed limit of size and age. It gradually loses its vital properties, and ceases to perform its vital functions. But this popular view is altogether erroneous. A tree is not a single individual; it is an aggregate of separate, independent individuals, a composite organism in which there is no centralization of life, and all the parts are frequently repeated: there being as many lungs as there are leaves, and as many organs of reproduction as there are blossoms. Each shoot is a distinct plant performing the functions of nutrition and propagation by and for itself, but, by virtue of its organic union with the rest of the tree, contributing to the general welfare, and helping to build up the common fabric. Cut off--its removal would not virtually injure the tree, nor impair its own vitality; and planted in the soil, it would strike root and in course of time grow to the same size as its parent. A tree may thus be said to be a colony of plants growing vertically instead of horizontally. Regarding a tree, then, as a body corporate, consisting of an aggregate of living and dead plants, the dead enclosed and preserved in the tissues of the living, and the living continually reproducing and grafting themselves upon one another, it follows necessarily that there is no physical limit to the size it may attain, or to the age it may reach. From its very nature a tree is immortal. It may go on growing and enlarging for ages, and after thousands of years be still in the full vigour of its existence. Even in Europe, where man has so long held sway, and has ever been destroying the woods and forests, individual trees have survived since the commencement of the Christian era, and their vigorous hold of life seems to secure them a longevity in comparison with which the period already passed may be no more than their early youth; while in other less-known parts of the world trees are to be found whose enormous size would indicate that they reached back to the origin of the existing state of the globe. From the nature of a tree as a composite social organism, it also necessarily follows that it is exempt from death by old age. The individual plants whose combination constitutes the corporate body, being only annuals, may be said to die of old age in autumn, when the leaves fade and fall. But as regards the whole organism there is no such thing as old age. (H. Macmillan, D. D.)
The tree of life
These considerations help us to understand more clearly why a tree should have been chosen as the sacrament or symbol of immortality in Eden, and why it should represent the eternal felicity of the redeemed in the heavenly paradise. The expression “tree of life,’ acquires a new and deeper significance when we remember that there is nothing else with life that bridges across the centuries, connects departed dynasties and systems of religion with modern governments and fresh creeds and binds the sympathies of the human heart with the sorrows and joys of other ages dead and gone. (H. Macmillan, D. D.)
“As the days of a tree: the Jews
How truly applicable to the marvellous history of the Jews! As trees are the oldest of living organisms, so the Jews are the oldest of living races. Though the least of all people, unable to compete in the arts of life with the nations of antiquity, they have outlived the wisest and most powerful of them. The people that oppressed and led them captive have perished, leaving behind only a few nameless ruins; the kingdoms whose glory overshadowed theirs have vanished, and left not even a wreck behind. But the Jews have still lived on. Like their own cedars of Lebanon they have survived the storms and vicissitudes of ages, and endured while all else has perished around them. Although the trunk and main stem of the Jews may be withered away, and only a fragment remain, yet this fragment is as full of life, is as green and flourishing, as in the brightest days of prosperity. And from this fragment will spring up a new and glorious tree. The tree, rather than the “everlasting ,hills, ‘ may have been chosen by the prophet as the symbol of the perpetuity of God’s people, not only because it has life, and is therefore a more appropriate emblem of life, not only because of its power of indefinite longevity and increase, but also, as Dr. Harvey has suggested, because it is possessed only of a contingent perpetuity. In its own nature a tree is immortal, but it is subject to accidents which impair its vitality and lead to decay and death. Most trees die of mechanical injuries; a storm breaks off a branch and inflicts a wound which exposes the inner heart-wood to the weather, decay takes place, the inside of the trunk becomes hollow, and, incapable of offering resistance, it is hurled to the ground by a fiercer blast of wind than usual. Many trees are placed in unsuitable situations, where they are too much crowded by other trees, or too much exposed to the wind, or where the soil does not afford sufficient nourishment to them, and they die of hunger. Their own growth, by hardening and compressing their tissues, prevents the roots of the young shoots from growing, and the sap from rising freely upwards, and thus they are choked out of life. Add to these causes the manifold destructive influences of nature and the necessities and caprices of men, and it will be at once seen that the great majority of trees must perish ere they have reached their prime, and that even the oldest and largest must finally disappear. This circumstance may have been meant to infuse a salutary warning into the gracious assurance of the text. The days of God’s people would be like the days of a tree so long as they obeyed the laws of truth and righteousness, by which the stability of a nation is maintained; but, like the tree, their days would be cut short prematurely, if they exposed themselves by disobedience to the forces which inevitably bring all that is evil to an end. (H. Macmillan, D. D.)
The tree of life
Many of the ablest scholars, ancient and modern, hold to the opinion that the true rendering of the passage is this: “As the days of the tree, are the days of My people”--“as the days,” that is, of the “tree of life!” And there is very much to be said in favour of this rendering. The Tree of Life in Eden--that first of sacraments--was designed to sustain and refresh the life infused into man at his creation. To us, however, there is another Tree of Life, even the Cross of Christ. The body broken, and the blood shed upon that Tree, are to us the means of resurrection and immortality. And, again, there is another Tree of Life, to which as yet we can only look in faith, that, namely, which is fast beside the river that issues forth beneath the throne of God and of the Lamb--which bears its twelvefold fruit twelve times within the twelvemonth, and whose leaves are for the healing of the nations. “As the days of the Tree, are the days of My people.” Their destiny is to feed on the Tree of Life in the midst of the Paradise of God; and as the days of that Tree are never ending, never darkened, so shall the days of God’s people be. (H. Macmillan, D. D.)
Christian life imaged by the trees of the earth
I. THE DURABILITY OF THE CHURCH, of which the Saviour has said, “The gates of hell, of death, shall not prevail against it. That which is true of the Church collectively is true of the humblest living member of the Church; for he shall reign, shall share in the rule of his Saviour, for ever and ever.
II. THE CONDITION OF THE CHURCH AND OF EVERY CHRISTIAN IS TO BE ONE OF DAILY, NOISELESS GROWTH. Nurtured by the sunshine and the rain, by sorrow and joy, by temptation and quiet, exposed to all, and strengthened by all, flourishing like a palm-tree amidst the summer heats, and growing amid snows like a cedar in Lebanon (Psa_92:12).
III. NOT ONLY GROWING AMID THE CHANGES OF EARTH, BUT DRAWING NOURISHMENT FROM ALL. The Christian is planted here, has his allotted duties here (Psa_92:13), as the tree is rooted in earth. Both derive nourishment from the earth. Trials, affliction, spiritual and fleshly temptations, and the winds of false doctrine, should but strengthen the Christian.
