Enkindle in Us with Deacon Dan Wagnitz
By Deacon Dan Wagnitz | For On Mission
When my children were little, we were camping in the area and turned off Highway 139 near Newald, Wisconsin, where a dark-stained wooden Forest Service sign simply read “MacArthur Pine.” A short drive down a rustic gravel road brought us to a small parking lot. A foot trail led deeper into the forest, overgrown and seldom used. We trusted, and so we set out with anticipation.
Not far along, we came upon the base of a huge white pine. It took our entire family of six to reach around the trunk. Another sign gave us some particulars: the tree was discovered by a forest ranger in 1945 and named after the famous WWII General Douglas MacArthur. The circumference was 17.5 feet. In its prime, the tree towered 140 feet high, though the crown was missing by the time we visited; it appeared to have fallen victim to lightning strikes and wind. But it was still tall enough that it made you feel like you might tip backward trying to see its top. It was estimated that it took over 400 years for the pine to grow so large.
It was amazing that the tree somehow eluded lumberjacks who harvested the great pine forests of the Northwoods in the late 18th and early 19th centuries. Because the white pines were so straight in stature and straight of grain, they were prized for their lumber. A tree of this size could have easily supplied all of the lumber needed to build a sizable home, perhaps two. Shipbuilders also used them for masts on sailing ships that moved goods around the Great Lakes in that earlier period.
I grew up admiring the big white pines that ring many of the northern Wisconsin lakes that we camped on for our summer vacations. When you view a lake’s shoreline from the water, it is easy to pick out the white pines because they tower over the rest of the birches, maples, aspen and hemlocks. If there was an active eagle nest, it was almost always near the top of a white pine.
While it would certainly be appropriate to call a white pine — especially an old, tall one — majestic, the tree is a paradox. While it takes tremendous strength not only for the tree to stand so erect and to support the huge branches that radiate almost horizontally for 20 to 30 feet from the trunk, those branches can be fairly brittle.
Because of my love of white pines, I planted 10 on my five acres the first summer that we purchased the property. They were just one- to two-foot saplings when I planted them, but they now stand at least 40 feet tall. About 10 years ago, during a late-season storm of heavy, wet snow, I picked up almost 40 branches that snapped under its weight. Some of the broken branches were about eight inches in diameter. Today, as I write this, I am looking out after two consecutive days of ice storms, and I see a pile of branches under both white pines from my study window.
I think all but the two youngest grandchildren have climbed up into one or another of the white pines. If I were 12 again, that’s what I would do. So, I don’t try to stop them. But I do give them two cautions: you’re going to get full of sap, so don’t wipe it on your clothes or your mom will not be happy; and, keep your weight near the trunk of the tree, because if you don’t, the branch, no matter how strong it appears, may snap off and you’re going to follow it to the ground!
The white pine is a good metaphor for faith. Spread deep and wide roots. Keep growing. Stand up straight. Know that when you do, you can inspire others, but you may also, from time to time, have to take the brunt of life’s storms. Don’t branch out too far away from the center, the core of faith, who is Christ Jesus, because that kind of branch is brittle and prone to breaking. Shed your doubts, fears, guilt, and grudges like old needles that have yellowed because they bring no life. Be open to the purpose revealed to you, because that will give meaning to this life and plant the seed for the life to come.