The Briar Patch

 April 28, 2021

In case anyone is wondering, Linda is by far the more spiritually minded person in the Bailey household. Let me explain. 

Being such a beautiful day, I decided to tackle one of the pre-wedding reception chores on Linda’s list—pulling and cutting down the briars between our yard and the creek bank. They have been growing there for quite a few years, so are deeply rooted and are an ugly, intertwined mess. Leather gloves are mandatory for such projects, but there isn’t much protection for the arms. Inevitably, the arms get impaled with prickers; there is no realistic way to prevent it, so when she came out to check my progress and saw my arms running with blood, she was sympathetic. That’s good.

Even better was when she commented that every time she has anything to do with pricker bushes (as she calls them), she thinks of Jesus wearing a crown of thorns as he was crucified for our sins. “I can’t imagine the pain he went through for us,” she mused. Like I said, she is more spiritual than I.

“When I think of briars like this,” I responded, “I think of Bre’r Rabbit begging Bre’r Bear and Bre’r Fox not to throw him into the briar patch.” In case you’re not familiar with the story of Bre’r Rabbit and the Tar Baby, the pertinent part goes like this:

I've got you this time, Brer Rabbit," said Brer Fox, jumping up and shaking off the dust. "You've sassed me for the very last time. Now I wonder what I should do with you?"

Brer Rabbit's eyes got very large. "Oh please Brer Fox, whatever you do, please don't throw me into the briar patch."

"Maybe I should roast you over a fire and eat you," mused Brer Fox. "No, that's too much trouble. Maybe I'll hang you instead."

"Roast me! Hang me! Do whatever you please," said Brer Rabbit. "Only please, Brer Fox, please don't throw me into the briar patch."

"If I'm going to hang you, I'll need some string," said Brer Fox. "And I don't have any string handy. But the stream's not far away, so maybe I'll drown you instead."

"Drown me! Roast me! Hang me! Do whatever you please," said Brer Rabbit. "Only please, Brer Fox, please don't throw me into the briar patch."

"The briar patch, eh?" said Brer Fox. "What a wonderful idea! You'll be torn into little pieces!"

Grabbing up the tar-covered rabbit, Brer Fox swung him around and around and then flung him head over heels into the briar patch. Brer Rabbit let out such a scream as he fell that all of Brer Fox's fur stood straight up. Brer Rabbit fell into the briar bushes with a crash and a mighty thump. Then there was silence.

Brer Fox cocked one ear toward the briar patch, listening for whimpers of pain. But he heard nothing. Brer Fox cocked the other ear toward the briar patch, listening for Brer Rabbit's death rattle. He heard nothing.

Then Brer Fox heard someone calling his name. He turned around and looked up the hill. Brer Rabbit was sitting on a log combing the tar out of his fur with a wood chip and looking smug.

"I was bred and born in the briar patch, Brer Fox," he called. "Born and bred in the briar patch."

And Brer Rabbit skipped away as merry as a cricket while Brer Fox ground his teeth in rage and went home. —from Joel Chandler Harris

Linda thinks of the wounds of Jesus, and all I think of is Bre’r Rabbit and the briar patch. Go figure! 

There is however, one thing about the briar patch that is worth a moment’s reflection. Sin is like those briars; left to grow, their roots go deep, and the branches get intertwined. Where one touches the ground, it too, takes root, and getting rid of them takes a lot of often painful work. Even when we want to be rid of them, they grab at us, sink their barbs into us, leaving us bleeding and sore. The more I let sin build up, the harder it is to rid myself of it. When I try pulling it out or cutting it down, its barbs dig into my soul, clinging tightly and letting go only by the greatest of effort. In Hebrews 12:1, we are commanded to “lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us.” The writer adds, “looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.” —Hebrews 12:1-2

If we need any motivation to do this, it is simply this: Jesus went through the briar patch of our sins, and even more, to secure our salvation. How can I do any less than to do whatever it takes to root out and rip up those thorny sins, even if it leaves me bleeding?