Growth

Trees bring vitality to a neighbourhood. The presence or absence of trees spells out its beauty or its lack. We have so many stories connected to trees. And it is surprising how much of the story of our salvation is linked to trees. It was in a tree-filled garden that God placed our first parents, with permission to eat the fruit of all except of the tree of knowledge of good and evil. Perversely, they did and were expelled from there in fig-leafed disgrace. Noah and his extended family were saved by God from the waters of the flood in an ark specifically constructed from a gopher tree, and it was with a leaf of an olive tree in its beak that the dove reported the eventual subsidence of the waters. Out of a burning bush, God called Moses to set his people free and lead them to the Promised Land. The prophet Ezekiel proclaims, today as long ago, that God will make “low trees grow” and the Psalmist assures us that “the just will flourish like the palm-tree and grow like the cedar of Lebanon.”

But it is above all in the Christ-story of the New Testament that the theme of trees is most frequently invoked. Jesus is called “the tree of life” and compares himself to the true vine of which we are the branches. Like trees, we are exhorted “to go forth and bear fruit”. Today, the kingdom of heaven is likened to a mustard tree, whose seed is so tiny, yet matures into a giant. In the end, it was on the tree of the cross that our salvation was won.

Throughout, trees symbolize, as in today’s gospel, growth and shelter. In the Middle East where Christianity has its roots, trees represent fertility in that near desert climate. A cluster of trees there forms an oasis with life-giving water. In its shade, nomadic man and beast find shelter from a relentless sun. Trees provide shelter too, from rain and wind, and sun and heat. A poet wrote:

Poems are made by fools like me,

But only God can make a tree.

The Kingdom of God though like a seed will grow into a mighty tree to shelter anyone and everyone. God loves being related to us whoever we are—young or old, black or white, native or foreigner, saint or sinner, prostitute or drunkard, Pharisee or publican, Jew or Samaritan, Greek or Roman, disciple or onlooker, heterosexual or LGBTQIA, theist or atheist, believer or fundamentalist, differently abled or not, widow or orphan. God, and His Kingdom, does not abide by our human limits; He is able to exist in contradictions and can shatter the limits of our perceptions. Only God can give this growth. Even to His Kingdom. Do we perceive?