TREES
HAVE SOULS
I
Samuel 16:1-7
Matthew
5:1-8
Mortals
look on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.
Blessed
are the pure in heart.
Anton gave me a beautiful coffee-table book
for Christmas entitled The Soul of a Tree by George Nakashima.
Nakashima was the foremost woodworker and cabinet-maker in North America
in the twentieth century. A Japanese
American by birth, he studied architecture in Japan and Paris, and then
followed his passion in designing and building beautiful furniture. In The
Soul of a Tree, he tells his life's story.
He also describes his way of making furniture -- from the selection of
the wood through to the finishing touches.
There is so much in the book that I found inspiring as well as
challenging as a woodworker, but I also found spiritual insight and wisdom in
its pages. Nakashima had a deep love and
respect for trees. He often walked in
the forests near where he lived on the West Coast of the United States, and had
an intimate knowledge of trees from all parts of the world. He saw beyond their outward appearance to
their inner beauty, and this enabled him to select the wood he needed in order
to make beautiful furniture. His furniture
was not ostentatious as though he was in competition with the wood, trying to
make it more beautiful. His aim was to
allow the inner beauty of the tree reveal itself in what he made. For me, the most memorable comment he made was that a tree can have two lives. First
as a tree growing to maturity and then, at the right time and not before, when it is harvested
and transformed into something beautiful at the hands of a craftsman. Nakashima describes his experience:
There is a drama
in the opening of a log -- to uncover for the first time the beauty ,,, of a
tree hidden for centuries, waiting to be given this second life. (95)
The genius of a master craftsman like Nakashima
is that he can give new birth to a tree.
Through his skills, the beauty locked in a tree is brought to life again as a table, or
chair, or cabinet to bring joy to many.
I am in a very junior league to the likes
of Nakashima, but I am also excited when, on working with wood, I discover a
beautiful grain that I had not expected to find beneath the bark. This does not happen when I buy wood already
planed and cut at Penny Pinchers. It
might be fine pine or meranti and some has good character for making something
functional -- an artist's easel, a work table or what have you. But when I obtain some mahogany or red oak,
some camphor or olive, some walnut or kiaat that is still rough, and maybe still enclosed in bark, and begin to work
with it on the lathe, or open it up with the saw and plane, I can't wait to discover the secrets beneath
the surface which, in many ways, will determine what I make. It is this inner beauty, this secret beneath
appearances, that is the soul of a tree,
a soul that has developed over years, even centuries, the source of its
nurture and growth. Without this inner
life, the heart wood enclosed by sap wood, the tree would die. The inner life might be very simple and plain
in colour as in the maple tree or ash, or it might be complex and exotic as in
wild olive, but it is beautiful whichever way you look at it. The external beauty of the tree, majestic as
it might be, is dependent on its hidden beauty which, when revealed may be as
wondrous to the eye.
When Samuel was sent by God to find a king
to replace Saul he was commanded to go to Jesse in Bethlehem. Jesse had several sons to choose from, and
Samuel thought they were all pretty good candidates for the post, especially
Eliab the eldest. But God rejected them
all, except David. It is not how they
appear, God told Samuel, that is important, "for the Lord does not see as
mortals see'; they look on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the
heart." That is, what lies hidden
beneath the surface, for it is what lies at the heart of the person that will
determine how that person lives.
The heart is a metaphor for that which lies
hidden deep within us, the real me, the soul, who I am, and therefore the person
God sees behind the rough bark that encloses us. What God sees may have already become
beautiful, but whether that is so or not, God always sees the potential for beauty even
in plain pine or the drift wood that the waves of life cast on the shore. Like
a master craftsman God can visualise the
beauty we can become in his hands like an old tree reborn. -- just as Bill Davis could see in the fallen
branch of the camphor tree here on Volmoed the beauty of the risen Christ who
stands before us in the sanctuary. It is this inner beauty, whether in a tree or
a person, that makes an outer beauty possible.
Only good trees bring forth good fruit, as Jesus taught.
We don't actually know much about Jesus'
outward appearance. Every great painting
of Jesus like Bill's sculpture is different from the next. But each is an attempt to bring to the
surface the beauty that lies hidden in the mystery of his being the one
through whom we see the face of God. And
that is the clue to understanding the beauty of Jesus as well as our own. There was nothing
false about him. He lived the truth
because he was the truth. What you saw,
you got; his deeds and words were one. It
was who he was in himself, the secret of being who he was, that made possible
what he said and did. That was what was
beautiful about him! And that is what
true beauty is always about; it arises out of a beauty within. So in the end there is a correspondence
between the heart wood hidden behind the bark and the beauty that begins to
emerge as God gets to work on our lives and brings it to birth. It may be hard work with some of us, for
there is much to prune before any beauty appears. But it doesn't matter whether you are an
alien tree, a grand old gnarled oak, a hardy acacia, or a guava tree, you have
a God-given potential for beauty waiting to be brought to the surface and
revealed to all.
John de Gruchy
Volmoed 6 February 2014
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