Listen to the Trees | Part V | Pando

I'd like to introduce you to a friend of mine, Pando.

Pando and I met during one of my family's annual summer camping trips at Fishlake National Forest. He is the oldest and largest living organism in the world, but he won't tell you that up front. In fact, it took scientists comparing DNA from 47,000 individual-looking Aspen trees to discover that Pando was a singular living organism, connected underground by an intricate network of roots originating from one common Ancestor.

Pando means, "I spread," and spread it does over 106 acres of land, weighing in at (an estimated, of course) 13 million pounds. Aspens are clonal organisms, meaning they spread by sending out their roots and then sending up shoots to form new stems, or ramets. 

I find that once something starts to spread, it's hard to stop. Take the morning glory vine, for example; or rumors, laughter, viruses, breaking news stories, gossip, the Gospel Message. These spreading things are powerful, invasive, and affect you and those around you, regardless of your opinion about them.       

The home I grew up in had three colonies of Aspen trees, and one Willow. 

Saturday mornings were for weeding. I dreaded it, but not as much as my father dreaded that pesky morning glory. "Up by the roots," my mother would remind me as we pulled thistle weeds and Aspen shoots.

The problem with pulling up Aspen shoots by the root is that the roots keep going. Pull up a shoot and you can follow the root system all the way back to the original tree it sprouted from. We did our best to control the growth, but the shoots would always eventually grow back; their Roots Remained. 

I'll be honest - this post is three days late because I've felt pretty uninspired. I Intended to wrap up this series on Trees with a final prophet - Daniel. As I started reading about King Nebuchadnezzar's (no way I just spelled that right on the first try...) dream of a Tree, Jesus reminded me of the words I wrote not too long ago about Veils. 

There was another Author, also Anonymous, who wrote a letter to the Hebrews. The Gospel message was spreading rapidly in the first century, and many devout Jews found it difficult to believe. It seemed...too good to be true? Too bright for eyes accustomed to the dark, perhaps? Maybe it felt safer to stay True to Traditions of their race than to take a risk with Believing, especially when this alleged "Savior" looked nothing like what they thought He would. 

The Author of Hebrews wrote this letter to those who were curious about Jesus or struggling with this new Faith perspective. They often reference Old Testament characters, historical events and sacred stories to relate with their readers as they were trying to explain this profound yet so simple and upside-down Gospel Message; a Message that has arguably shaken the foundations of human history more than anything before or since. 

And they also wrote it for those whose eyes were Veiled; for the children who Forget.  

I felt like this Author was speaking at me when I read the following verses from Chapters 5 and 6. Linked here is Hebrews 5:11-6:1, NIV; though I find the following paraphrase by The Message Translation so beautiful and relatable: 

I have a lot more to say [about this] but it is hard to get it across to you since you've picked up this bad habit of not Listening. By this time, you ought to be teachers yourselves, yet here I find you need someone to sit down with you and go over the basics on God again, starting from square one - baby's milk, when you should have been on solid food long ago! 

Milk is for beginners, inexperienced in God's ways; solid food is for the mature, who have some practice in telling right from wrong.

So come on, let's leave behind the preschool finger-painting exercises on Christ and get on with the grand work of Art.

Well, then, we've come quite full-circle. (See also: my Peter Pan ramblings from the first set of essays on The Hidden Gospel). 

As I came to the end of the letter, I was particularly drawn to a verse about Roots in Chapter 12: 

See to it that no one falls short of the grace of God and that no bitter root grows up to cause trouble and defile many. (Hebrews 12:15, NIV) Another translation says it this way: "Keep a sharp eye out for weeds of bitter discontent. A thistle or two gone to seed can ruin a whole garden in no time." 

Here's the thing about weeding: It. Never. Ends. Weeding isn't a once-a-year activity like spring cleaning; it happens on Saturday mornings & on your way to check the mail. You spot one bringing in the groceries & taking out the trash. You pause to pull one during a walk with the dogs & while saying hello to the neighbor. 

It is an endless task, but if left undone, weeds and other invasive plants will directly compete with what you've Sown and Intended for your garden for resources like moisture, sunlight, nutrients and space. 

Bitter [adjective]: angry, hurt, or resentful because of one's bad experiences or a sense of unjust treatment. 

'Bitter roots' got me thinking about forgiveness. 

Here's the thing about forgiveness: It. Never. Ends. Forgiveness isn't a once-a-year activity like spring cleaning; it happens on Saturday mornings & on your way to check the mail. You might spot resentment shooting up when you overhear a certain name in conversation, or pass a particular street corner that reminds you of your hurt. Your mind wanders to remember the details of your unjust treatment during a walk with the dogs & suddenly resentment starts to invade; resentment that you thought had been taken care of during spring cleaning. 

I recall a valuable lesson that Pando taught me that summer: Despite what it might look like or feel like at times, you are a part of something so much bigger than yourself. You are a singular stem of a Great Tree, and that's why you feel so big and so small at the same time.  

Beloved, as the end of winter and the promise of spring kisses the earth awake, Pay Attention to what is sprouting up around you and within you. Get rid of all bitterness, "up by the roots."