BURIAL

"That which thou sowest is not made to live, except it die. And that which thou sowest, thou sowest not that body that shall be, but bare grain, it may chance of wheat, or perhaps of a tree (sic)." 1 Cor. 15:36,37 - with apologies to St. Paul.

I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree. (Joyce Kilmer)

All human societies throughout all human history have used symbols. If we were to look up the definition of "symbol" in the dictionary we would discover that it covers almost all forms of expression: a wave of the hand, the letters in a word, how that word is spoken, musical notes on a sheet of paper, mathematical signs (plus, minus, multiply etc.), trademarks, tattoos, credit cards, paycheques, certain types of hairdos - and so on. All are symbols.

Christianity, full of its own special symbolism, therefore by no means is unique in terms of the use of symbols. Unmistakably, the Cross is the most universally recognized Christian symbol. Symbol of the triumphant tragedy on Good Friday; symbol of God's love for mankind; symbol of the atonement - of our being made at-one with God - therefore the symbol of redemption; symbol of forgiveness; when portrayed with the risen and glorified Lord, such as our Rood Cross, symbol of the Resurrection, just as is the empty Cross such as we have on our altar, symbolizing Christ's victory over death. And, by the way, here in North America, as in much of the world, Christian churches are adorned outside with a Cross, often at the top of a tall steeple. I am given to understand that most churches in the Netherlands have a rooster on their steeples - a reminder of St. Peter's denial of Jesus on the eve of the Crucifixion.

Symbol of the Resurrection. There are several other Christian symbols for the Resurrection: the lily - from an apparently lifeless bulb springs forth what some consider to be one of the most beautiful flowers in God's creation. Jesus, in His Sermon on the Mount speaks thus about lilies, "Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin: And yet I say unto you, that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these."

Ordinary eggs are also symbols of the Resurrection - the long-forgotten reason why we have Easter eggs for children at that time of the year. They are meant to symbolize that, as an egg appears to be lifeless, just as the Body of our Lord did following the Crucifixion, the egg may have life in it, as most certainly our Lord has the new life in Him for all believers, through His own Resurrection on Easter morning.

The peacock is an early symbol of the Resurrection. When the male peacock sheds his feathers, he grows more brilliant ones than the ones he lost. The Phoenix is an ancient mythical bird which at death bursts into flame but subsequently rises from its own ashes, and is therefore a symbol of the Resurrection and immortal life.

These are acknowledged symbols of the Resurrection in Christian history. The use of the lily, based on the aforementioned reference to it by our Lord, and based on its growth cycle of dying to below the ground level - being buried as it were, is an obvious choice. However, in most climates around the world, and especially in non-tropical zones, there is a strikingly obvious parallel with most of the plant life around us. From the temperate area along our southern border to the arctic, our country annually passes through seasonal variations that, with the exception of evergreen trees, sees a prolonged period in which all plant life seems to have utterly and irreversibly died. Carpets of painfully brilliant wildflowers in the arctic tundra flash all too briefly into life, only to be buried in an annual deepfreeze that seems very final in its fierceness. But nowhere is this more striking than in our deciduous trees. Magnificent oaks and stately maples, adorned with towering canopies during the hot days of summer are reduced to absolute skeletons each winter. Surely an outside observer would conclude that they have died, forever.

Papa, which is how many of us in this parish knew René, was a tree man. In fact, that was his job for the city of Ottawa. Papa knew trees. He knew, just as all native Canadians do, that the maple tree in the front yard will resurrect to life again in the spring. But, unlike the rest of us, he also knew that, for it to be the healthiest maple, it needed pruning to prevent weak branch growth or poor air circulation through its branches, that this branch needed to be cut off or in ten years its weight would split the trunk and the tree would indeed die. He knew that certain soil types or locations were just not friendly to certain trees.

Papa knew Who made the trees, Who imbued them with the remarkable capacity to spring back to life each year as an obvious symbol of the Resurrection. I never spoke to him about just how many references our Lord and St. Paul made to trees in the pages of Scripture as symbols of God's people - good trees bring forth good fruit; non-fruit bearing branches are completely removed and fruit bearing branches are pruned so that they will bring forth more fruit; different types of trees can be grafted onto the roots of others. Papa certainly knew all of that, at least factually, if not also symbolically.

Trees grow old, some of their branches break off, their trunks begin to decay so that they can no longer hold up the weight of the branches above them, their heartwood rots away, they sometimes just gradually fall apart. It was no secret that Papa was, in some senses, like an ageing tree, still magnificent, but with trunks that just wouldn't let him get around any more, with a heart that couldn't provide steady flow to his branches.

Trees, like people, have a life expectancy. Their existence continues by the grace of God, and, like all forms of life, have a programming that ensures that their presence will, under normal circumstances, continue via offspring. But trees are often very different in that regard than other forms of life. An old tree might die; but then new life will spring forth from its roots, often more magnificent than the previous.

People, unlike trees, are offered a different type of expectation beyond this life, through the Resurrection of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, to a new life beyond the grave, more magnificent than the previous. Papa knew that too.

Rest u eternal grant unto him, O Lord. And may light perpetual shine upon him. Amen.

THE ANNUNCIATION OTTAWA 2004 CLRK