The Olive Tree on Masada

In 2021, archaeologists working near Masada in Israel discovered olive tree roots still alive in soil that hadn't seen steady rain in decades. The roots had pushed deep — impossibly deep — into hairline cracks in the limestone, finding hidden moisture that sustained them through years of drought and scorching desert wind. Meanwhile, the lavish palace that Herod the Great had built on that same mountaintop lay in ruins. His marble floors, his elaborate bathhouses, his storerooms packed with enough food and wine to outlast any siege — all of it crumbled to dust centuries ago. The man who murdered rivals, manipulated Rome, and hoarded power like a dragon guarding gold left behind nothing but rubble. But the olive tree endured.

David wrote Psalm 52 after watching Doeg the Edomite destroy innocent lives to curry favor with King Saul. Doeg was a man who trusted in the abundance of his riches and strengthened himself in his wickedness. He seemed untouchable. But David saw through the illusion. "I am like a green olive tree in the house of God," he declared. "I trust in the steadfast love of God forever and ever."

The Herods and the Doegs of every generation build their empires on betrayal and brute force, and every one of those empires falls. But the soul rooted in the faithfulness of the Almighty — quiet, unglamorous, pressed deep into the rock — that soul outlasts them all.