The Tree of Life

Genesis 2:8-15
7.28.24
Matt Goodale

Today we begin a sermon series on one of the most prolific and interesting characters in scripture: trees. Those who were at the Church in the Park service in June will remember that I preached on a tree story then, and I realized that there are so many good tree stories in the Bible, that I’ll do a little series on it.

Because believe it or not, other than God and people, the Bible mentions trees more than any other living thing—there are more trees mentioned in the Bible than every type of animal combined. There is a tree on the first page of Genesis, the first psalm, on the first page of the New Testament, and on the last page of Revelation. Every significant event in the Bible is marked by a tree. Whether it is the Fall, the Flood, or the overthrow of Pharoah, every major event in the Bible has a tree, branch, fruit, seed or some part of a tree marking the spot.

And every major character is connected to a tree: Noah receives the olive leaf, Abraham sat under the Oaks of Mamre, Moses stood barefoot in front of the burning bush (which is a tree in Hebrew). Joseph is simply described as a tree!

Think also about Zaccheaus climbing a sycamore tree, the blind man seeing people as if they are trees walking, Paul asserting that if you have gone for a walk in the woods, you are without excuse for not knowing God. Jesus himself declared the kingdom of heaven is like a tree. The only thing that ever harmed Jesus was a tree (the cross), and after he was resurrected, he was mistaken for a gardener.

You know how when you watch a movie, the music helps to tell the story? If you’re watching a horror movie and there’s a woman in her home just doing normal things, as soon as the screechy violins start playing you know something bad is about to happen. Or if you’re watching a romance and these two characters just seem to hate each other, but whenever they interact small violins or trumpets are playing in the background—you know they’re going to end up together.

Trees are kind of like the music of the Bible. Whenever you see a tree, it lets you know that something important is about to happen.

Literature greats like George MacDonald, J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis have all picked up on this biblical theme and champion trees in their stories. In their stories the good guys always live under, in and around trees—they protect and preserve them (even talk to them). And the bad guys are the ones who cut down trees.

Trees, it seems, more than any other living thing, captured the imaginations of biblical authors…so trees were written into just about every important part of the biblical story. As the authors were thinking and writing about God, as they looked up at the heavens they noticed trees, and trees became important symbols and entry points into the divine mystery of what God is doing here on earth with us.

And our biblical story begins with a tree in a garden. The Tree of Life. We are told that in the beginning God made a garden and placed humanity in it for the purpose of what? Did anyone catch that? “To tend the garden and watch over it.” That’s the very first command given: To take care of the garden. The garden was created to be enjoyed by humans, and humans were created to help tend the garden.

The very first story in the Bible shows humanity in a relationship with the garden, the Tree of Life at its center. The Tree of Life is aptly named, because without any scientific data to back it up, ancient Hebrews seemed to intuitively know that we depend on trees to live and thrive.

The biblical authors didn’t know that trees take carbon dioxide molecules from the air and knit them together with water using the sun’s energy, producing oxygen and sugar: both things necessary for us to live. Back then they didn’t know that we inhale the trees’ oxygen and use it to burn the trees’ sugars for energy, exhaling more carbon dioxide to be cleaned by trees again.

The biblical authors also didn’t have the acumen of modern urban planners who know that lots of trees are a key to a healthy city because not only do trees clean the air, they also prevent flooding, they cool us in the shade, they dampen city noise and lift our spirits.

Biblical authors also didn’t know what modern psychology tells us, that regularly being in nature near trees has been linked to lower stress, improved attention span, better mood, reduced risk of psychiatric disorders and even upticks in empathy.

Ancient biblical authors knew intuitively what we can now scientifically prove thousands of years later: trees give us life. And we were designed by our Creator to be intimately connected to trees. From the very beginning we were created to tend the garden and live in connection with every good created thing.

But we all know how the story goes. We all know that living in the garden lasted just two chapters, and after humanity is exiled from the garden, the whole story is one of humanity trying to get back to the garden. It is a story of humanity’s disconnection from the Tree of Life and that original garden of Eden.

If the Garden of Eden is a story of connection…of all created things living in harmony with one another…then the whole rest of the biblical story is one of disconnection. We know that humanity is physically exiled from the garden, but the nature of their relationship to the trees and the earth also changed. When they’re exiled Adam and Eve are told that they will toil hard and the land will not yield easily to them. They will dominate the land and the land will dominate them. And it won’t take long for the first humans to start dominating each other either with Cain and Abel. The shalom – the harmony and peace and connection between people and the Tree of Life does not last long—it ultimately ends in disconnection.

And that disconnection continues today. We still long for the harmony and connection felt in that first garden.

We live in the most digitally and technologically connected age in the history of the world, and yet, we have never lived more disconnected lives.

When Trump was shot halfway across the country, we heard about it within the hour, but it might take days or weeks for us to learn that our neighbor recently lost their spouse.

We can message friends and family who live states away, but we don’t say more than two words to the grocery store clerk checking us out.

We can scroll Instagram to see the latest vacations our acquaintances from high school just took, but we have no idea what the name of the new person who moved in three houses down is.

We can buy anything from around the world with the click of a button, but we have no idea who made it or if it was even ethically made.

We know all about global wars and politics, but we don’t know what social services are offered in our own city or what the real needs are.

We drive everywhere with ease and enjoy getting to listen to music anytime anywhere…but we have forgotten what it is like to take a stroll just to enjoy the flowers and hear the sound of the wind rustling through the leaves on trees.

We have never been more connected as a society. And yet, as human beings I think we have never lived more disconnected lives. We are disconnected from our neighbors and each other; disconnected from the land we live on; disconnected from our purchases and from our own bodies and emotions; we are disconnected from God.

If the Tree of Life represents how God’s life is found in the connection and harmony of all things, then we sure feel the lack of life in our various states of disconnection.

But if the beginning of the biblical story diagnoses our issue—exile from the garden and the disconnection we so tacitly feel—then it also offers us a hope and a solution. Because even though the story begins with exile from the Tree of Life, it ends with a return to it. The biblical arc shows us that the way forward, the way towards new life in Christ is a return to the garden, to the Tree of Life. We must return to the garden, literally and metaphorically. Trees mark our way home.

As a kid, I remember spending most of my free time outside, digging holes under our giant blue spruce tree in the backyard, climbing our sticky pine tree in the front yard, building forts with the dead branches knocked down during the last storm, riding my bike around the neighborhood, running through sprinklers, playing football in the yard with neighborhood kids.

And as I reflect back, I’ve realized how little time I spend outside anymore…most of my life spent in front of screens with my feet firmly planted on concrete. Hours spent idly outside doing nothing are filled now with hours of busyness and productivity. As I drive my car around hurrying from place to place I hardly notice the trees anymore. And while my life is more full and exciting and I have access to friends, family and news at my fingertips that I never would have dreamed of as a kid, I have to wonder: do I really have more life than I did as a kid when I played so freely among the trees?

You know, I’ve heard all sorts of religious advice over the course of my thirty years in the church. Some of it better than others. But I’ve never heard the advice I’m about to give you. And actually, it’s less advice, and more of a spiritual practice. This is the simplest spiritual practice there is…you don’t even have to consider yourself spiritual to do it. It doesn’t require you to get your theology right…it’s not one of those practices that pastors tend to prescribe like read your Bible and pray more.

It’s this: if you’re feeling anxious or hurried or find yourself needing a little more life: just notice the trees.

If you can feel the disconnection in your life and are longing for more connection, more life…just slow down and notice the trees. If you want one simple practice that might have the power to change your life, just slow down to notice the trees.

And if you think this sounds a little hippy-dippy, this is what the biblical authors are doing all over scripture. They’re pointing at trees as markers of the divine mystery…they’re pointing at trees as a source of life and hope and healing. They call us to imitate trees…to become like them in their rootedness and fruit-bearing nature.

Because as you slow down enough to notice the trees around you…to take note of their shape and color…how their leaves rustle and what odd angles their branches jut out…you may just slow down enough to find a little more life in this moment right now.

Part of the reason our lives are so disconnected is because we’re so busy and always in a hurry running from thing to thing. If we slow down enough to begin noticing trees, hopefully we will also begin to notice God’s fingerprints in other parts of creation, and even in each other.

As the story of the Tree of Life and the Garden of Eden communicates, we were created to live in intimate connection with all of creation.

The Tree of Life reminds us that we were created for connection. We were created to share life with the trees, the plants, the earth, our neighbors and all living things around us. We were created to tend them and take care of them. This was our first calling.

It is time for us to return to creation. In doing so, we may find the heart of the Creator once again in our own hearts. God is calling us back to experience God’s love and care in the created world around us.

Amen and may you notice the trees.