Lessons from the Orchard
By J. C. Rogers
A few days ago, while walking in an orchard with the owner, I noticed the need of pruning. His attention was called to this tree with its dead branches, to that one filled with useless sprouts, or “suckers,” as they are sometimes called, and to others having branches which crossed and wore each other away by friction. “Let us get some knives and prune them.” Both agreed, and planned for the work. As the pruning proceeded, and the ladder carried us in among the branches, many other defects were found, and remedied as best they might be. Here was a big, sturdy shoot proudly lifting itself in the midst of fruitful branches; but it had never produced a single apple, and never would. It was only a parasite, sapping the life current from the legitimate branch which supported it. Branches were found dying by degrees from the extremities toward the body. Evidently there was something wrong here with the nourishment, something clogging the channel of its outward flow. In some cases too many branches crowded close together. All these grew weak, and had to be thinned out. So far, the one remedy was to cut out the useless members. Next we climbed to the top of a fine, promising tree. The first look upon its thrifty branches, green leaves, and abundant blossoms showed a prospect of plentiful fruit. Apparently we might pass to the next tree, for no pruning seemed needful here. A gorgeous array of blossoms in glowing colors spread itself before us. The passing observer might easily be deceived by this show of blossoms; for it was only show. An examination of what should have been the fruit-bearing twigs of last season revealed many small applets, withered and blasted, still hanging there. No expert was required to determine that what this tree had done it was doing now, and would doubtless do again. It lived to make a show, bearing only leaves. What can we do for such a tree? The pruning knife cannot reach its defect; for it is not upon the surface. Ah, here is the saddest case of all. This tree is rotten at the heart. Borers have so long preyed upon its vitals that only a shell of its trunk remains. Tapping upon the body with an ax, it sounded like a drum. Here on one side near the ground is a thin opening, and the blade of our saw was thrust through its dead mass from bark to bark. All the remaining life of this tree has been turned to making a show of leaves and blossoms. While its appointed work is fruit bearing, it cannot do this work; for it is dead at heart. “Cut it down; why cumbereth it the ground?” Nine years ago work in the Lord’s vineyard called me to a distant field, and my journey took me from the Pacific to the Central States, through the fertile fields of Oregon, Washington, Wyoming, Nebraska, Iowa, Illinois, and Michigan. Never expecting to return again, I thought much of how the work of the message would be quickly finished. As I rode along through these prosperous States, where I knew thousands were rejoicing in the love of the truth, it seemed to me that these many loyal believers in the coming of Jesus would devote their lives, their houses, and their lands to the Lord, causing his truth to triumph in a little while. I am now told that in those very States during these years while God has given great prosperity in temporal things, many of these same believers have added farm to farm and bank account to bank account, instead of devoting their increase to hastening our Lord’s return. Is it possible that these professed believers have lived, like the tree, only for a show, bearing no fruit for God? The yearning heart of our Saviour replies to the decree, “Cut it down.” “Let it alone this year also.” In anxious tenderness Jesus pleads for us, longing to replace even the dead heart with one of perfect soundness. Will you open the channel, so that the life-giving stream of love may flow from Jesus through you to the perishing? To many the present calls of duty may be the last. J. C. ROGERS.