- Tanzanian Baobab Tree, photo by Melissa Brown, summer 2007
by Molly Brown
In this time of ecological and cultural upheaval, the world needs an image that can bring together people of all faiths and cultures, honoring diversity and at the same time expressing a unity that everyone can embrace. Perhaps that image is The Tree of Life. In its current scientific role, it was conceived by Charles Darwin as a model for understanding evolution. Expanded through genetic science, this model of the tree of life demonstrates that the one thing we all have in common is the precious and incredible gift of life. We are all, every creature and plant and microorganism, made of the same DNA and live on a branch of the same phylogenetic tree, arising from the same ancient progenitor.
The Tree of Life isn’t about a new religion; it includes all religions as it does all species. It is an image of the mystery that lies at the heart of every religion and in the heart of each beloved being. It tells us life is sacred. Not just our own individual lives, or that of our tribe or community or nation, but all of life, all our brother and sister species and us. I even imagine that when life is discovered on another planet, it will be found to be built upon the very same spiraling DNA molecule that structures life on earth. The infinitely dividing roots and branches of the Tree of Life reflect the great mystery that binds all things, that sings in our blood and in the galaxies, that twists the DNA helix, that sparks between neurons, that is crucified in the tension between opposites, between life going onward and extinction, between despair and love of life.
(from my essay on the Tree of Life Vestments—see “Pages” section of this blog)
Jack Miles, in his article, “Global Requiem: The Apocalyptic Moment in Religion, Science and Art,” says this:
“In what may be the last years of the human race, the role of the imagination, I am driven to conclude, lies not in supplanting religion but in imagining how existing organized religious traditions might adapt their old resources to meet this new challenge. Most artists and writers, called upon to imagine such a thing, would reply “That’s not my job.” So much the worse for human survival if a few cannot escape this suffocating secular orthodoxy.”
I don’t think it’s a lack of imagination that has gotten us this near to self-destruction. Imagination cut loose from the sacred center has resulted in a thoughtless kind of inventiveness ungrounded in the realities of limited resources, real costs of production, and quality of life. We can’t see how to change but we are collectively drawn to the imaginings of apocalyptic films and literature, fascinated by the images of catastrophic overturnings and the promise of a new kind of life, grimer but with more truth in it.
I believe that big, difficult, scary changes are coming. But what if, along with the upheavals, a new life of community, rich and inclusive, could be created? What would that look like? Could the Tree of Life help our global society reestablish a connection to the sacred that honors the diversity of cultures and religion? How can the established religions, as Miles says, “adapt their old resources to meet this new challenge?” What can each one of them tell us about the Tree of Life and the ultimate reality that lives behind it? As an Episcopalian, I’m challenged to reinterpret the tenets of my faith, seeking the insight, the wisdom and the strength to navigate the Great Turning. As an artist I will liberally borrow from other traditions, splicing together whatever fits.
There is some urgency in this need for a spiritual image for the Great Turning. The time is now.
