A Disciple of Trees

 

Hall of Trees, Earlham Campus

                In honor of many Euro-American’s Celtic background, I want to honor the tree in this blog.  As close as we are to Saint Patrick’s Day, it seems particularly fitting.  Our Celtic roots spread not only in Ireland and Scotland, but also England, Wales, France and beyond.  In fact, the English word, “tree” derives from the word Druid involving layers of meaning such as “true” Oak” and “know”.    A friend who loves trees and word histories named his son Drew.
  Druids were a class of priests in Pagan culture known to be theological, philosophical, mystical, powerful, and extremely learned about the natural world.  

                Pelagius might have been a Druid if he had been born earlier, but in the 4^th Century, he was an early Celtic Christian who traveled to Rome to study Christianity.  He became a popular mentor to male and female students of the faith in Rome.   I believe the best of paganism infused his Christianity.  He held that humans did not inhabit depraved flesh; rather they reflected the light of God as did all of creation.  Coming from a culture where women commonly held leadership positions, he saw the value in instructing both genders. His belief in the goodness of creation and the equality of women contradicted Augustine who repeatedly charged Pelagius with heresy until it stuck and he was banned from Rome.   

                Pelagius returned home to continue teaching to a vibrant Christian community. Celtic Christianity honored creation, egalitarian social structure, learning, sea travel, and poetry. They remained at odds with Rome throughout the centuries.   I have come to see trees and salmon, two immediate and esteemed members of creation as my symbolic connection to my Celtic roots and resistance to religion that binds.  Did you know that when salmon spawn and decompose in the rivers, their DNA is found in the river-side Cedars and Firs?  These river trees  double the mystique to me!

                The tree holds powerful symbolism in Christianity as well as other faith traditions.  Trees play a central role in the Biblical creation story and vision of paradise.  In Genesis 2:8-10 we read, “Out of the ground the Lord God caused to grow every tree that is pleasing to the sight and good for food; the tree of life also in the midst of the garden, and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.”  We leave the Garden of Eden with a powerful image of angels with flaming swords guarding the Tree of Life.  In Revelations 22:1-3, we see the tree literally central in paradise: “On each side of the river stood the tree of life, bearing twelve crops of fruit, yielding its fruit every month. And the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations.”    Throughout the Bible,  trees hold people as they die;  trees shelter, feed, anoint, and heal. 

                Trees often symbolize a cosmological view for many faith traditions.  Perhaps it is their age and size that pique our interest. In writing classes, I often hear young men share of their sacred childhood tree house or young women write of their love of tree climbing.  I love thinking of what a 50 or 500 year old tree has seen.  The tree top waves in the sky, expands by layers in a hard trunk; the roots snake deep in black soil – no wonder trees capture our spiritual imagination.   A tree’s quiet presence has much to teach those who seek to be grounded and present in the gift of life.  This is why I call myself a disciple of trees.  May you dear friends enjoy the fruit, shade, and wisdom of presence that only a tree can offer.

                It’s no wonder poets and prophets write about trees. T=this lovely tribute comes from in a Jewish prayer book:

Trees

To be a giant and keep quiet about it,

To stay in one’s own place;

To stand for the constant presence of process

And always to seem the same;

To be steady as a rock and always trembling,

Having the hard appearance of death

With the soft, fluent nature of growth,

One’s Being deceptively armored,

One’s Becoming deceptively vulnerable;

To be so tough, and take the light so well,

Freely providing forbidden knowledge.

From “A Living Reflection,” Kol HaNeshamath