Discussing Torah matters because the Torah matters

The Man is a Tree of the Field


Born in 1884, Axel Erlandson was a horticultural genius. No figure in known history has been able to replicate the trees Axel grew in his garden. His daughter said that he could talk to them.

Axel had a fourth grade education. As it turns out, this may have been a blessing in that he was free to experiment without any preconceptions, allowing the trees themselves to act as his teacher.

Very guarded about his methods, he taught no one his “trade secrets.” As he said in 1953, “A number of people have asked me if there is any one else who can take up this work when I lay it down; but I know of no one that could be trained to continue after me in this occupation. So in a way it would appear that I've learned a kind of profession so late in life that I cannot carry it to its ultimate possible attainment.”


Although Axel passed away in 1964, his “circus trees” live on in Gilroy, California. Unfortunately only a fraction of the original 70 are left.

It makes you wonder, though, why is a tree such as it is? Axel’s trees only seem odd to us because we’re familiar with God’s design. And surely God invested more genius into His design than Axel could have afforded. So why did God design the tree such as He did? Why not some other way?

To answer this, we need to sidestep into a deeper conversation. The following passage is lifted from Rabbi Akiva Tatz’s book, WorldMask. He writes:

All the world is an analogy for a higher reality. Each detail of the world teaches something about its source in the spiritual world; each detail here is an exact parallel of that which exists there. This is perfectly logical: if we were commanded to study and understand the spiritual realm and yet had no avenue of access to that understanding, what would be the sense of such a command? The pathway to deeper insight is clear: we are in fact enjoined to see more deeply, to look into those depths that cannot be seen by human eyes, and the access comes by way of a close and sensitive study of that which is revealed. 

Just as a person observes the physical body of his friend in order to relate to the person or the inner being of that friend, so too we study the structure and movements of the physical world in order to perceive its root. The truth is that there is no other way; a person never sees the inner being or neshama of another person. We simply have no sense-organ which can directly perceive a soul. All we can do is observe the person’s bodily expression sensitively and we automatically gain insight into who they are. Subtle movements of the body, a subtle flicker of expression on the face, an almost imperceptible smile or motion of acceptance, the slightest gesture of tension or relaxation in bodily posture––all of these speak worlds. 

In relating to people, that switch from outer body to inner person is achieved effortlessly: when relating intensely to another person one is usually unaware of the interface provided by the body. One simply perceives the inner reality as if directly. This natural ability to use the medium of the body to see its core is itself a Divine gift which teaches us that such a perception can be achieved. The challenge is to use the entire world in this way. All aspects of the physical world should be engaged and studied for what they reveal about their Creator. 

This is a remarkable and inspiring view of the world: every object and phenomenon it contains is a Divine lesson, a parable relating to the Creator.

Akiva Tatz, WorldMask: The World Parallels Its Root, pg. 62-63

Paul would agree; he says it this way: “For since the creation of the world, God’s invisible qualities––his eternal power and divine nature––have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made” (Romans 1:20 NIV).

Invisible, eternal, divine: these are characteristics of the heavenly realm, the “higher reality” as Tatz calls it. These qualities can be seen clearly in the lower world. This is because all physical truth emanates from the spiritual domain. The natural world is the way it is because each component is a parable relating to the Creator who spoke it forth.

With this understanding in mind, we return our focus to the tree. In the Bible, God is never compared to a tree, but men often are. In fact, Deuteronomy comes right out and says that the man is a tree of the field. “When thou shalt besiege a city a long time, in making war against it to take it, thou shalt not destroy the trees thereof by forcing an axe against them: for thou mayest eat of them, and thou shalt not cut them down (for the tree of the field is man's life) to employ them in the siege...” (Deuteronomy 20:19 NKJ) Of note, you will see this verse translated a great many ways. Translators struggle to make sense of the phrase I’ve italicized. The pulpit commentary on Biblehub.com states, “As the words stand in the text, they can only be rendered thus: ‘For the man is a tree of the field.’ This gives no good sense, or indeed, any sense at all; and hence it is proposed to alter the reading of the text so as to produce a meaning that shall be acceptable.” This is referring to the fact that translators alter the reading of the text to produce something they find acceptable. As a result, our translations vary. For instance, in the New King James version (quoted above), translators put the phrase in parenthesis, and they add the word “life” although it is not found in the Hebrew. Other versions try different maneuvers to make it acceptable. If, however, we accept the Hebrew as it’s written, the verse says that the man is a tree of the field. “Kiy ha’adam etz ha’sadeh” - For the man is a tree of the field. 

This connection between man and trees brings out a new dimension in Mark 8. “[Jesus] took the blind man by the hand and led him out of the village, and when he had spit on his eyes and laid his hands on him, he asked him, “Do you see anything?” And he looked up and said, “I see people, but they look like trees, walking.” Then Jesus laid his hands on his eyes again; and he opened his eyes, his sight was restored, and he saw everything clearly.” (Mark 8-23-25 ESV)

Some interpret this to mean Jesus heals in stages. I would agree. When the blind man saw people as trees walking around, he was seeing into the spiritual essence of those people. When Jesus touched the man again, the man began to see what we see physically. The meaning of the passage, then, is that restoration can come first spiritually and then physically. These are the stages in which Jesus often brings healing.

The Bible opens up another depth. The tree is related to a man of righteousness. Psalm 92:12: “The righteous will flourish like a palm tree; they will grow like a cedar of Lebanon.” Proverbs 11:28: “Those who trust in their riches will fall, but the righteous will thrive like a green leaf.” Psalm 1:3 shares this insight: “[A righteous man] will be like a tree firmly planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in its season and its leaf does not wither; and in whatever he does, he prospers.” Jeremiah 17:8 says likewise, that “the man who trusts in the Lord will be like a tree that extends its roots by a stream and will not fear when the heat comes.” Suffice to say, when we analyze a tree and its design, we learn about the qualities of a righteous man. Consider the following...

A tree has depth before it has stature. A tree is fed by the light of the world. A tree focuses not on producing fruit, but on growing closer to the world above; its fruit is a natural offshoot of this growth. A tree is a purifying agent; it absorbs harmful carbon dioxide and transforms it into life-giving oxygen. A tree has a seen part and an unseen part: we interact with the seen part, but its life is derived from the unseen part. The unseen part sustains it: the deeper its connection to the unseen world, the stronger a storm it can withstand. A tree goes through seasons: when the environment is conducive to growth, it invests its energy in many directions and its endeavors take on color. When the environment isn’t as friendly, the tree slows down; it prioritizes, sheds the excesses and shifts its energy toward the enduring portion (its center). A tree is altruistic. A tree naturally grows in community with other trees. In such a community, trees network and work together; their roots interconnect. They give voice to the wind (“wind” and “spirit are the same word in Hebrew). It’s been said that God’s Sacred Name, Y-H-V-H, is pronounced by the whisper of the wind as it passes through trees: Y____H____W____H

A sensitive study of the tree will yield even more insights into what it means to be a person of righteousness. The attributes of one are the distinguishing marks of the other. So to answer the question we started with (why is a tree’s design such as it is?), the answer is because it shares the essence of a man, a righteous man. Although their physical interface is quite different, the truths that make them what they are are the same. Those truths are more primary than the externalities. 

Stepping back, I think we will have to wait on Heaven before we grasp at its depth this connection between trees and man. In Heaven, we’ll have an entire eternity to unpack the deeper meaning of God’s brilliant designs. You know, Axel Erlandson may have taken his greatest secrets to the grave, but God saves His greatest secrets until the grave.