Ecospirit: Religions and Philosophies for the Earth

The Firm Ground for Hope: A Ritual for Planting Humans and Trees

 The Firm Ground for Hope: A Ritual for Planting Humans and Trees H E AT H E R M U R R AY E L K I N S , W I T H A S S I S TA N C E F R O M D AV I D W O O D THE SPRINGTIME This is a story about a community’s ritual life as it relates to organic and architectural structures. This particular narrative of tree blessings begins the year before the Ground of Hope conference is held at Drew University in Madison, New Jersey. After planting a new tree as a sign of commitment to what is to come, the seminary community gathers in the shade of the four giant oaks that will be destroyed in order to build a new wing with an elevator. We are sacrificing these ancestors for the sake of those who have been excluded by our inaccessible physical structures. We take our trees seriously. The university has been planted in a place called ‘‘The Forest’’ since the late 1700s. Faculty often sign ‘‘In the Forest’’ in their book dedications. A giant acorn decorates the space above the altar in our chapel, higher than the cross. We unashamedly sing to our trees, mark them for death and new life with acorn banners. We read Wendell Berry’s poems from A Timbered Choir. Our alums remember acorns thrown on deans’ heads, shade offered for study, courtship, and prayer. We ask the trees to bless us as we say goodbye. More than a little tree-hugging goes on after the ritual is over. T H E FA L L The Ground for Hope conference is coming to a close. We gather outside in front of the glass doors of the new atrium, a ground where oaks once thrived. The sun is bright, the air brisk. There are three slender dogwoods waiting to be planted by a holy human community. These are 532 兩 e c os p i ri t traditionally linked with the narrative of Christ’s Passion. They are also native to the Garden State. Containers holding water have been placed beside each tree-well, as well as a clear-glass pitcher, the crown of thorns chalice, a large clay bowl with embedded branches of thorns, and a tripod of wooden poles tied with a rainbow string. The tripod is a reminder of an old Korean practice of providing heat. It was used by prisoners, and the very poor. Three sticks are tied together, a scrap piece of metal holds the fire, suspending it between the sticks. Four ritual objects have been prepared: a thorn of honey locust, an acorn from the Vanderbilt University campus, a handful of sand from Down Under, and a leaf from the Boddhi Tree. T H E BL E S S I N G BE G I N S The community is invited to remove their shoes, to stand bare-soled on holy ground. Many remove their shoes and socks as the Woody Guthrie song ‘‘Holy Ground’’ is sung. I take a handful of earth and offer it to the community to remind us of the Genesis story of humans made from earth, and holy breath. I do this to remind us that this is the Garden State and that earth is our beginning and our end. We are marked with a dusty sign of mortality. Earth to earth. Dust to dust. I blow on the dirt, place some of it on my cheek, and invite others to do the same. I will be the celebrant, David Wood the gift-giver of ritual objects, and Luke Higgins the musician, but the community and the trees will be primary performers of this ritual by singing, telling stories, and getting grounded. A reading adapted from Isaiah :– The spirit of the Living god is upon us, because the Holy One has anointed us; god has sent us to bring good news to the oppressed, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to the prisoners; to proclaim the year of god’s favor, and the day of judgment of our Creator; to comfort all who mourn in Zion— to give them a garland instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, h e at h e r m u r ra y e lk i n s, w i th a s si s t an...