I have always been drawn to the concept of the Tree of Life. I fell in love with it when I was introduced to the LDS church and read Lehi's vision for the first time. But even beyond that, I have loved the connection to family history with our roots and branches. Then there's the connection to ancient cultures where it has appeared in Meso-America, the Middle East, the Celtic Isles. I also love the natural world and greatly appreciate trees. But even with that, I didn't entirely understand why I feel so drawn to them. The color purple is the same way and I still haven't figured that out (though information on amethyst might explain a large part of it). The word Wisdom is something that I've been inexplicably drawn to a well.
So here's the connection between Wisdom and the Tree of Life:
Proverbs 3:18: "She [Wisdom] is a tree of alife to them that lay hold upon her"
There is a strong tradition in the Old Testament of Wisdom as a female goddess. I'm learning some of it from the book "Sophia: Goddess of Wisdom, Bride of God." Other sources where I've heard from is "Nephi and His Asherah" from the Maxwell Institute and "How to Worship Our Mother in Heaven without Being Excommunicated."
So not only is the Tree of Life, the love of God but it is also the gift of wisdom that comes to those who love God. It can also be called a symbol of the Goddess so the love of God that comes from that tree, then, is also the love of our Mother in Heaven.
One insight I had a few years ago that has stayed with me is the different meanings of the phrase "love of God." The possessive is ambiguous. Is it God's love or our love for God? Both? I like to think of it as both, that feeling God's love through the Spirit is a gift but also our love of God is a fruit of faithful living. As we progress along the path to the tree, our love of God grows. In that way, the journey to the tree that each Mormon is on, is an archetypal journey to wisdom.
Like Lehi, I find the promise of that fruit to be completely worth it. It is my hope that at the end of my life's journey that one of the fruits of the tree of life (which from the Old Testament is not just the love of God but it is also the gift of eternal life) is finding Heavenly Mother not just Our Father and the blessing it will be to learn of them through our eternity.
Showing posts with label tree of life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tree of life. Show all posts
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Monday, March 24, 2008
The Fruit of the Tree of Life
walked through wide open fields, mists of fog, along a flowing river,
until I came to a path that ran straight and true.
Culminating in a hill topped with a tree,
laden with heavy fruit.
It was pure and ripe, full of sweetness in its plump rosy flesh.
Delicious to the taste, desirable above all other fruits.
The fruit therof promised new life, full of wonder.
Ripe for the picking.
As I looked across the expanse of the hilltop,
I saw families gathering.
Fathers supporting mothers who like the tree were heavy laden and round.
Children watched as the process of new life unfolded before them.
Mothers leaned into their husbands,
and clinging, found support from a rod of iron leading to the tree.
A few looked distracted, their attention pulled from their task.
I followed their gaze to a large building off in the distance.
From the windows of the building, women leaned jeering with IVs in their arms.
Others, bedridden, looked from their beds to the women under the shade of the tree and scoffed.
Orderlies and attendants in white and shades of blue, hands covered in latex, mouths obscured by masks, too assumed the manner of mocking those beneath the tree.
The ashamed left their pleasant spot and found the path to the spacious building
where they joined the ranks of IV inserted, bed ridden, hermetically garbed.
There they were cut open, blood pouring from their wound. The pure fruit of their womb stained and bloodied.
Once sutured, they were expelled from the building in shame and hurt.
Then drowned in the depths of their sorrow.
While those undeterred by the jeers and mockery, birthed their babies in bliss and security.
And truly came to know the deliciousness of the fruit of love.
until I came to a path that ran straight and true.
Culminating in a hill topped with a tree,
laden with heavy fruit.
It was pure and ripe, full of sweetness in its plump rosy flesh.
Delicious to the taste, desirable above all other fruits.
The fruit therof promised new life, full of wonder.
Ripe for the picking.
As I looked across the expanse of the hilltop,
I saw families gathering.
Fathers supporting mothers who like the tree were heavy laden and round.
Children watched as the process of new life unfolded before them.
Mothers leaned into their husbands,
and clinging, found support from a rod of iron leading to the tree.
A few looked distracted, their attention pulled from their task.
I followed their gaze to a large building off in the distance.
From the windows of the building, women leaned jeering with IVs in their arms.
Others, bedridden, looked from their beds to the women under the shade of the tree and scoffed.
Orderlies and attendants in white and shades of blue, hands covered in latex, mouths obscured by masks, too assumed the manner of mocking those beneath the tree.
The ashamed left their pleasant spot and found the path to the spacious building
where they joined the ranks of IV inserted, bed ridden, hermetically garbed.
There they were cut open, blood pouring from their wound. The pure fruit of their womb stained and bloodied.
Once sutured, they were expelled from the building in shame and hurt.
Then drowned in the depths of their sorrow.
While those undeterred by the jeers and mockery, birthed their babies in bliss and security.
And truly came to know the deliciousness of the fruit of love.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
