“There are more life forms in a handful of forest soil than there are people on the planet,” notes forester Peter Wohlleben in his book, The Hidden Life of Trees. Indeed, there should be more stories about trees than about humans. There are more of them than there are of us.

In New Seeds of Contemplation, the Trappist monk Thomas Merton wrote,

“A tree gives glory to God by being a tree. For in being what God means it to be it is obeying [God}. It ‘consents,’ so to speak, to [God’s] creative love. It is expressing an idea which is in God and which is not distinct from the essence of God, and therefore a tree imitates God by being a tree.”

This is startling especially when read with ecologist Suzanne Simard’s claim that the trees might be our salvation. In an OnBeing interview with Krista Tippett, Simard points to the amazing “productivity of a beautiful cathedral forest; the sense of wonder and health and vitality and health you get … even in our own societies … It’s just full of joy.” And in that joy, there can be destruction and elimination, but more often than not, the ecosystem heals itself.

It is why trees have survived and thrived. Their hidden wisdom comes in how they care for each other. They care nourish the stump of a fallen tree for hundreds of years by sharing their food because they are so connected in the “wood wide web” that cannot help but share in the story of both survival and flourishing. Trees caution each other through this web of connection. They give advice and protection which seems to offer new information for what is happening in this “tree of life with its twelve kinds of fruit, producing its fruit each month, and the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations” (Revelation 22:2, NRSVUE).

Hymn writer Hannah Brown, and my dear friend from seminary, offers this hymn inspired by an Easter sermon about mosses. In a world of chaos, where so many of us are looking for signs of hope, we need wisdom from trees and all of creation.

On the Sixth Sunday of Easter, when this tree of life appears in the Revised Common Lectionary, let there be wisdom from trees in the words we sing and pray. I wrote the following prayers to go along with Hannah’s hymn which can be purchased through GIA Publications.

Inspired by Psalm 147

There is so much to weigh us down
that we could get stuck there
but we will choose to sing. 

We will lift our voices and raise our hands.
We will clap our hands and sing praise
in that selah where God meets us. 

We will be renewed by song
and remember what we praise
and why. In that selah, we will 
sing praises with a psalm. 
Clap your hands, everyone!

While above words inspired by my favorite biblical reference to trees might be used to begin worship, a more reflective approach might be taken. Sticks and twigs might be passed around. Perhaps each worshiper gets one or perhaps they are shared, hand to hand. Someone might say after the hymn is played meditatively through the first verse or two:

Trees are often described as the lungs of the earth for how they transform carbon from human output into oxygen. Allow yourself to share breath with this broken limb. Marvel how much goodness is held in you and the tree and even what sorrows you might share, as you breathe together with the branch in your hand.

After this invitation is offered, music might continue to play as the gathering body finds their breath among the broken branches. This might lead to singing the hymn or it move to other elements in worship.

Inspired by Revelation 21:10, 22-22:5

And with the spirit, we' ve been carried away
swept up in the chaos and 
uncertain of what new life might be.
We have doubted our place 
in the natural order, convinced 
that there can new life will not come
to this city, our town. We believe it 
is out there in the rivers and the trees
but do not know how to find
that healing or even glory
rooted in our own experience. 
O Creator, show us what is possible
so that we might find our alleluia again.

This hymn is just one option for this vision in Revelation but Hannah actually offers a second option in her collection of beautiful hymns. Her hymn I Dream of Your Heaven was actually written for this text where Jesus, Faithful Tree was imagined as an Easter hymn. Both hymns are available to use through OneLicense and can be found in Hannah’s collection at GIA Publications.

The introduction to this post and some of the prayers are excerpted from my own Retreat to the Woods which can be downloaded and used for further exploration and wonder into God’s creation.

If you use these prayers, and I hope you do, I hope that you will give me credit somewhere in your bulletin or worship slide by adding “created by Elsa Anders Cook from Cooking with Elsa (cookingwithelsa.org).”