He Is the Cedar. Go Get Under His Branches.

Cedars of Lebanon grow to over a hundred and twenty feet tall. In a landscape where most trees top out at twenty or thirty feet, a cedar is four times taller than everything around it. You do not have to wonder which one is the cedar. You look up and it is the only thing commanding the skyline.

That is the first thing the Spirit wants you to see about Christ. He is taller than everything. Taller than the greatest prophet — Moses stood on a mountain, but Jesus was transfigured on one with Moses and Elijah standing next to Him. Taller than the temple — Jesus said one greater than the temple is here. Taller than Solomon in all his wisdom — Jesus said a greater than Solomon is here. The cedar does not compete with the bushes. It simply rises above them. And when you are standing under it, you know you are under something larger than yourself.

A tree that grows over a hundred feet into the air has a root system to match. The cedar's roots go deep into the Lebanese mountains — deep enough to anchor a massive weight through centuries of storms, deep enough to find water when the surface is dry, deep enough that no wind the Mediterranean can throw at it will knock it over.

Paul prays in Ephesians that we would be rooted and grounded in love. The love of Christ is the root system. And His own roots go all the way down — to the eternal counsels of the Trinity before the foundation of the world, to the promise in Eden, to every covenant, to every prophecy. Christ is not a recent development. He is the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world, and everything that has ever been built that lasted was built on Him. The cedar is not going anywhere.

A fully grown cedar does something beautiful. Its branches spread outward, not just upward, creating an enormous canopy. In the ancient world, travelers would stop under a cedar for shade from the Middle Eastern sun. The tree was not just majestic to look at. It was shelter.

This is where the picture turns into an invitation. The Song says He is the cedar. But Ezekiel gives the other side: On the mountain height of Israel I will plant it; and it will bring forth boughs, and bear fruit, and be a majestic cedar. Under it will dwell birds of every sort; in the shadow of its branches they will dwell. (Ezekiel 17:23). That is you. That is me. Birds of every sort — every nation, every language, every background — dwelling under His branches.

Here is the thing about shade. You do not earn it. You do not work for it. You just get under it. The cedar does not ask whether you are a sparrow or a dove. It does not charge admission. Its branches are wide, and the invitation is the same for everyone: Go get under His branches. He is tall enough. He is green enough. His roots go deep enough. His wood is incorruptible. And there is room under His branches for you.