The Tree of Life

Over recent weeks I’ve been struck by the reassurance we all seem to find in nature.  We have been blessed with many sun-filled days this spring and any walk outside reveals trees in blossom and daffodils by the roadside. 

Somehow, in these uncertain times, the rhythm and predictability of the seasons is strangely comforting.  Maybe there is a reason why Jesus once asked us to consider the ‘lilies of the field’.  They speak to us of ‘normality’ and ‘dependability’.

On our daily walks with Pip, our dog, Rachel and I look at the trees.  If only they could speak, for they have surely seen it all before.

In the UK the oldest tree is in Perthshire.  The Fortingall Yew continues to grow in a churchyard there and is believed to be 2000 years old.  Interestingly a Yew enters the ‘ancient’ stage of its life aged 800 years, whereas the Beech becomes ‘ancient’ at 225 years.  Both pale into insignificance compared to the root system of Old Tjikko in Sweden, a Norwegian Spruce, which has undergone carbon14 dating and is an astonishing 9,500 years old.

These trees have lived, and prevailed, through crisis and war on so many occasions and in so many different centuries.  Today, in these spring days of 2020, they are living through another pivotal moment in history.

This Holy Week Christians think of another ‘tree’, one found on Good Friday’s hill outside the city walls of Jerusalem: the cross of Jesus.

That ‘tree’ also speaks to us of dependability.  The God of Suffering who was present with us that first Good Friday, stands alongside every generation in the sufferings of succeeding years.  Not an absentee God, but one who shares the moment with us.

The cross of Calvary; a Tree of Life reminding us that God is among us, walking beside us through every chapter of history