It is believed to be one of the most photographed places in all of Ireland (including Northern Ireland), rivaling that of the Cliffs of Moher, St. Patrick’s Cathedral, Trinity College, and numerous castles and the greenest scenery imaginable. Approaching the northeastern most edge of the Emerald Isle are these trees that appear rather surreal. They are called the Dark Hedges: scores of beech trees alongside a road that led to a Gregorian style mansion, as the owner attempted to mesmerize his guests while they ventured towards his home. It is believed they were planted around 1775, taking generations for them to create this visual masterpiece of the natural world.
It isn’t biblical as most children of God tend to insist, but nevertheless, “patience is a virtue,” so the wise say. Perhaps no one knows that more than those who plant trees, as, depending on the species, some who are there upon the seeds being immersed into the soil, will never see the finished work. It’s almost as if they’re doing so for the next generation, for others’ enjoyment and amazement and awe in the beauty of Creation. It’s almost as if they do so for hope and perhaps even a conviction that nature will somehow take its course.
Unfortunately, it is also believed 150 were planted around 250 years ago. Now, about half remain. For starters, the typical lifespan of the beech trees (so the wise say, because I certainly don’t know) is maxed out at the 2.5 century-mark. Not to mention, with age, comes greater weakness, including a more significant likelihood to fall to severe weather patterns. And yet, somehow, someway, more than enough remain standing to make tourists and even native Irish people to stop in their always-on-the-go tracks, even if they’ve seen the eye-catching images before. Thankfully, efforts are on-going to preserve those somehow still standing, and to plant more of them along that frequently traversed path in Northern Ireland.
Numerous connections can be made to the church, to be sure. No matter how much we cling to a Messiah who more fully-lived on earth two thousand years ago, and it took generations and then some for communities of faith to grow all over the world; still we prefer our ministry results to be instantaneous, or maybe within a budget cycle, at least. We can be told over and over again about the importance of “planting [faith] seeds” in the younger children of God, in hopes that someday they’ll come back to the faith (as if the faith has ever left them or something, but minor detail), but deep down, we’d rather not wait around, and wish they would be with us every Sunday and any other activity during the week, too. “Patience is a virtue,” so the wise say, but we wouldn’t mind a little less on the virtues and a little more on the success in the membership rolls and budget sheets and pew occupancy realms.
But…wow, the beauty that can emerge over centuries, and not just with the Dark Hedges on the other side of the Pond. Yes, we could say that about church buildings that go through more than their fair share of new constructions and renovations and technological updates. And yet, even more mesmerizing are the people who keep on lining the paths of others’ faith journeys, no matter how many others have faded away for whatever the reason may be. We marvel over the intertwining of gifts shared and talents crossing over to ensure someone over there experiences captivating hope. And some of those who insist on taking part in Gospel-inspired acts will never see the final result. They just might be doing it for the sake of the stranger, who is just as much a child of God as anyone else. They just might be doing it for the next generation. They just might be doing it because they believe the Holy Spirit will somehow take its nourishing course.
Ministry includes more than its fair share of waiting and seeing, painstakingly so, to put it mildly. But we do receive our fair share of instantaneous grace at Communion tables, some of which have been around for generations. We experience instantaneous love in the company of our siblings in Christ, who are always more than willing to wrap their arms around us whenever it is needed. We know there will be more than enough towering figures of the faith who will be ready at a moment’s notice to bless us with the most mesmerizing compassion, as if Christ is still walking among us today. Thanks be to God, indeed!
In Christ,
Pastor Brad
Image: “Sacred Grove,” Peter Lik Fine Art Photography (lik.com)