The Tree and the Rock by Mrs. Annie A. Preston

Seventh-day Adventist Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Sep 20, 1883

The Tree and the Rock.

By Mrs. Annie A. Preston

WALKING rapidly along a shaded strip of country road, young and self-satisfied Pastor Powers overtook old Deacon Newbury, plodding slowly, leaning wearily upon his stout staff.

"Good morning, Father Newbury," said the young man, briskly, "I am glad to have come upon you in this quiet place. Let us sit down here upon these mossy rocks for a chat," and as the old man assented, and took off his hat to enjoy the refreshing breeze, the young man went on, assuming a condescending tone.

"I am anxious, sir; to change my pastorate here for a larger field. I have had the subject upon my mind for some time, but have hesitated about making my wishes known, for the reason that I do not know what the little church here will do without me. There are certain families here for whom I have done great things. They were not recognized in society before I came. I hardly think they will be after I go away. I have built up the church; everything has improved under my administration, as you know. You will not wonder that I am in a perplexed state of mind about leaving, and will, I am sure, give me your counsel as to my future course."

The aged deacon put on his hat, straightened his tall form, and said, slowly pointing with his staff:—

"Do you see that overhanging rock across the way, and do you see the stump just beneath its craggy shelf? A good many years ago an acorn sprouted there, the rock sheltered it, and it grew and grew, month after month, until in time it came to be a large tree. As its trunk increased in diameter, it pressed against the cliffs so closely that after awhile it forgot that it had not always been there, and believed itself to be the main support of the huge rock. I used to sit down here on this very spot where I am sitting now, and look at the tree. As the wind went singing through the branches, rustling its thick leaves, I would fancy it was the voice of the oak tree, and that it was saying, 'Look at me! see what a power I am in the world. What would become of you all did you not have my shade to rest under. What would become of the rock here did I not hold it in place?'

"One day God sent a terrible wind roaring through the gorge. It seized upon the tree, and as it had no great depth of root it was torn up and fell by the roadside. As I came to assist about clearing it away, after the wind had subsided, I fancied I heard it sighing, 'Alas for my pride! The rock forms a part of the very foundations of the mountain, and yet in my vain glory I believed it depended upon me to keep it in position.' So, my young friend, the church of God depends not upon any one man. Before man was, the truth was. Men are God's instruments for promulgating the truth. The church of Christ, nurtured by the Holy Spirit, is everlasting and unchangeable. Men whom the church hath nurtured may become puffed up with pride at their success in trying to preach the gospel, and go down, but the church shall not go down."

Parson Powers used to tell this story when an old man, and say, "Good old Father Newbury's practical lesson saved me from the fate of the oak tree. It lopped off the surperfluous outshoots of pride that were making me top-heavy, and caused me to strike my roots of faith down into the strong foundation ground of truth. I left the church soon after, as I had planned to do, but instead of going down, God blessed it continually in answer to the prayer of a faithful few, and I was willing to acknowledge with all humility that man alone cannot inspire a work of grace.—Mrs. Annie A. Preston, in Christian at Work.