When the Bramble Becomes King


When the Bramble Becomes King
In the book of Judges, there is an unusual parable found within the story of Gideon’s family called Jotham’s Parable. While it may initially appear to be a simple fable about trees, it is actually a deeper commentary on leadership, ambition, and the consequences of rejecting God’s order.

Here’s the backstory: after Gideon’s victory, the people of Israel desired to make him their king. However, Gideon declined, stating, “The Lord shall rule over you” (Judges 8:22–23). He faithfully judged Israel, and after him, his seventy sons shared in this responsibility. But one son, Abimelech, sought to claim it all for himself. He hired mercenaries, murdered his brothers, and usurped the throne. The only son who escaped was the youngest, Jotham, and it is he who tells this story.

The Tale of the Trees

In the parable, the trees of the forest seek a king. They first approach the olive tree, the source of oil that symbolizes anointing. However, the olive tree refuses their request. Next, they ask the fig tree, known for its sustaining fruit, but it also declines. Then, they turn to the vine, which produces grapes used for both religious sacrifices and human enjoyment, yet the vine also refuses.

Each tree expresses the same sentiment: “Why should I abandon what I was created to do just to rule over other trees?” They understand their purpose and value.

Finally, the trees turn to the bramble bush. The bramble produces no fruit, offers no useful shade, spreads rapidly, chokes out life, and burns easily. Nevertheless, the bramble declares, “Come take shelter in my shadow, or I will set fire to everything greater than me.”

In this parable, the bramble symbolizes Abimelech.

Ambition Without Anointing

The olive tree, the fig tree, and the vine all recognized that true value doesn’t come from position; it comes from obedience. Abimelech, however, didn’t share this understanding. He wasn’t anointed, he wasn’t fruitful, and he wasn’t sacrificial. He simply wanted the throne.

This illustrates what happens when ambition takes the place of anointing. The bramble cannot provide cover; if you get too close, all you will find are thorns. Leaders like this do not protect, heal, or serve; instead, they dominate, injure, and suppress.

Here’s the hard truth: the spirit of Abimelech is still very much alive. Not every voice in a pulpit is anointed. Not every leader who claims authority is leading for God. Some are just brambles with crowns, motivated by ego, wounding the very people who trusted them.

When the Bramble Wounds You

I know that some of you reading this have experienced the pain of being cut by brambles. You searched for protection, but instead, you found thorns. You placed your trust in a leader, only to find that you were left with scars instead of safety.

If this resonates with you, I want to express my sincere apologies. I cannot undo what has been said or erase what has been done. However, I can guide you back to the One who still provides healing. There is still a balm in Gilead. There is still a God on the throne who binds up the brokenhearted.

God’s Strange Victory

Abimelech’s end is almost ironic. He died when a woman dropped a millstone from a wall, crushing his skull. He was not a warrior, not a king, and not someone history would remember, but rather an unnamed woman doing ordinary work. God used the weak, the overlooked, and the hidden to bring down a man who had made himself mighty.

That’s how God’s kingdom operates. He doesn’t need brambles filled with ambition; instead, He seeks willing vessels, those who are unseen and unheard, to carry His anointing.

If Jotham’s parable teaches us anything, it’s this: the most dangerous leaders are those who make ministry about themselves. They may appear powerful for a time, but their pride ultimately leads to their downfall.

God doesn’t need arrogant leaders; He needs obedient ones. He doesn’t require the strongest or the most qualified individuals. He seeks people who will remain faithful to their calling, even if their names are never remembered.

At the end of the day, it’s not the brambles who set people free; it’s the anointing.