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ENVIRONMENT

The silent narrative of trees

  • 07 December 2009

At 3.00pm on 13 December 2009, the World Council of Churches has called upon Christians around the world to ring their bells, blow their horns or beat their drums 350 times to alert world decision makers, meeting in Copenhagen, of the need to reduce CO2 levels. This 'bell ringing for climate justice' might signify the beginning of a more vocal, moral and even spiritual re-engagement of churches with the silent voice of nature.

As organic entities, trees remind us of the cyclical nature of existence, the seasons, renewal and growth. With their roots deep in the earth, their trunks reaching for the sky, and their branches brushing the heavens, trees are also natural enduring symbols linking physical and spiritual layers of awareness.

Whether as a Tree of Life, Sacred Tree or axis mundi representing a cosmic centre, trees in one form or another have often been recognised as powerful cosmological agents in many of the earth's myths, art, ritual and religious beliefs. From Celtic fertility maypoles to Lakota Indian sundance pillars; from the World Tree Yggdrasil (from which the Norse god Odin hung) to the very crucifix of Jesus Christ, trees have symbolic resonance and power.

Trees and forests can also define the borders of civilised and moral life. In both western and eastern cultures, from Scandinavian trolls and German forest witches to Japanese kami, elemental things live in forests, and wild, dangerous forces can lurk there.

Trees and forests have agency because they can create cognitive and subliminal landscapes in our minds which speak to our imagination and creativity as well as to our emotional and spiritual dimensions. But whether we perceive nature as a savage garden or as utopian Arcadian paradise really depends on what we have been conditioned to understand.

So, while forest dwelling peoples might perceive their forests as rich sources of sustenance and spiritual comfort, from a Judeo-Christian perspective, there is always 'risk' in nature. After all, even Satan's serpent managed to enter the Garden of Eden and threaten the perfection of paradise.

The point here is that in both biblical and other religious and mythological landscapes, trees have agency because their presence makes things happen or enables events to occur.

Many indigenous cultures, from the Shawi of the Peruvian Amazon to the Yarralin people of Australia's Northern Territory, don't differentiate between the natural world and themselves. For these animist societies, trees and