Series Introduction:
Adorning our church site used to be a glorious Liquidambar. But several years ago, tree loppers were summoned to decapitate, sever limb-from-limb, and chip this spectacular noxious weed. Like many recorded in the annals of the church, she met death in the prime of life. Roots were lively (too lively), leaves were lush. She fruitlessly fought back with stately strength … until a mound of sweet-smelling chips marked her grave; until poison had positively exterminated every bit of rooted life. Finally, tilers erased her ever-existence from the site. And we, the church, washed our hands of a growing predicament.
I missed the tree. It had so poignantly represented new life at the Old Cathedral, hinting at Spring with a cheerful neon-green fling while Melbournians were still stiffly wrapped in black winter scarves. No more lacey neutral shade over mumbled lunch-time conversations. I missed her Autumn annual debut of reckless abandon, her cacophony of colour … and then the reluctant shedding of her frock to the wintry winds of each bygone year.
But it is better that over-lively trees do not go hand in hand with old church buildings. For, after all, there’s more to a tree than meets the eye.
Which made me think … like trees, there’s more to a church than meets the eye. Right?
Allegorising a truer story (for all the church’s glitter and glory), are vexations of aggressive root systems, spiny seed balls and piles of decomposing leaves. However, nested in a far grander story, is the Church’s union and communion throughout history — her perennial pruning, chopping … even slaughter. It’s a story that, with saints that have gone before, expresses faith in the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. (Hebrews 11:1)
Reflection: ‘Like a tree’
Apart from God and humans, the next most-mentioned animated thing in the Bible is … trees. (Actually, living or dead, vine/bush/branch/tree/forest/cross, it’s all generally called ‘wood’.)
Wood was my inspiration for this year’s cut and paste birthday message for my friends and family. On a recent languid summer’s day in a country town’s public park, I wandered from our picnic rug. A hot cicada shrill was reeling me into a leafy-cool canopy. I tilted my head back and got lost in wonder at a giant powerhouse called ‘tree’.
This is the birthday message for my friends and family:
“Like a tree, you are a winsome and wonderous living metaphor.
And, like a tree, as Jeremiah prophetically put it, you are truly blessed.
Unlike tumbleweed that’s disconnected and drifting from earthy goodness
you’ve put trusting roots into living water.
Like a tree re-planted in Eden you’re serene through hot summers.
You flourish despite winter storms.
Your foliage never fails nor loses colour
and you bear miraculous four-seasonal fruit.
Wow! Truly blessed and a blessing.
I’m celebrating God’s grace in and through you.”
Prayer:
To trust in you, Father God, is to stake my life beyond the grave in a renewed and lively creation/kingdom/eternity. Though trust is intangible, trees are not. So, today I’m sensing, as you did in Eden, how trust is so good, pleasing to the eye, flourishing and life-giving. Through your justice and mercy, bring more of this re-creation to our earth today. And use me in your life-giving mission.