Sermons

Minister: Rev. Margaret A. Beckman | All around us the season seems to reach a standstill — a point of repose.
 

READING ~ “Can You Imagine” by Mary Oliver in Long Life: Essays and Other Writings, Da Capo Press, Cambridge, Massachusetts, March 2005. 

For example, what the trees do
not only in lightning storms
or the watery dark of a summer’s night
or under the white nets of winter
but now, and now, and now – whenever
we’re not looking. Surely you can’t imagine
they don’t dance, from the root up, wishing
to travel a little, not cramped so much as wanting
a better view, or more sun, or just as avidly
more shade – surely you can’t imagine they just
stand there loving every
minute of it, the birds or the emptiness, the dark rings
of the years slowly and without a sound
thickening, and nothing different unless the wind,
and then only in its own mood, comes
to visit, surely you can’t imagine
patience, and happiness, like that.

— from Long Life: Essays and Other Writings, by Mary Oliver

Da Capo Press; First Paperback Edition (March 2, 2005) Cambridge, Massachusetts

READING ~ “How Do Trees Survive Winter Cold?” by Michael Synder in Northern Woodlands, December 2012

To survive winter cold, a tree begins its preparations in late summer as day length shortens. Cold acclimation occurs gradually and includes a number of physiological changes in leaves, stems, and roots. And while fall color seems to get all the attention, it’s what trees do later in autumn that is the most stunning, if harder to see.

SERMON

I wonder as I wander out under the sky …..[i]

In winter, the night sky seems so much darker and the stars and moon so mcu brighter. The air is crip and clear. The trees have shed their leaves and made wide openings in their canopy where we can look up in wonder at the stars and even the Milky Way galaxy.

I think the sky on a cold clear winter night is breathtakingly beautiful. Maybe some of you witnessed the meteor shower this past week. The Geminid meteor shower will reached its maximum rate of activity on 14 December 2018. Some shooting stars associated with the shower were expected to be visible each night from 7 December to 16 December. I didn’t see any of it, but some of my friends did. They said it was utterly amazing.

“He who marvels at the beauty of the world in summer will find equal cause for wonder and admiration in winter…. In winter the stars seem to have rekindled their fires, the moon achieves a fuller triumph, and the heavens wear a look of a more exalted simplicity.” — John Burroughs

Is there anyone who fails to be moved by the beauty of the natural landscape blanketed in new fallen snow? I doubt it. At least no one familiar with life here in the north country. We comment on the beauty of our surroundings every time we receive a fresh snowfall as if it was either the first or the last time we would ever see such beauty.

Even in the midst of our moaning and griping about the challenges of walking and driving on icy surfaces, we notice winter’s beauty.

The Solstice – Friday at a bit past 5pm this year – marks the turning of the wheel of our year from Autumn to Winter. The longest night and the shortest day. It might seem strange to claim beauty and wonder as the gifts of the longest night and shortest day, but I do. And I invite you to do the same.

I could easily talk about winter darkness and the spiritual gifts of these shorter days of December and January for the next ten minutes, but what I really want to share with you this morning is my fascination with the trees this year. I love trees. Deciduous trees have dropped their leaves and hunkered down for the winter. Conifers keep their leaves/needles and bow down under the weight of snow and ice. All this we see regularly during winter. There is a stark beauty to the trees devoid of their leaves, standing naked and straight in the cold gray of winter. There is a bright cheerful beauty to the evergreens with a light covering of snow contrasting wonderfully with their natural greenness.

This year, I wonder about the health and well-being of our trees. Trees are a vital part of our lives and landscape here in New England. Maybe we take them for granted most of the time. I’m pretty sure I do. Recently, I read the book, The Hidden Life of Trees by Peter Wohlleben. I learned a great deal about trees; how they live and what they need to be healthy and thrive. A fascinating journey into the life of a species we know so little about that is literally all around us.

Then a few days ago I heard a short piece on NPR about the difficulties climate change and the warming of New England winters pose for the health and future viability of trees. I began to wonder about our trees.

Trees slow down during winter but they do not hibernate. Conditions must be right for them to survive New England winters.

I have been one who absorbs the beauty and wonder of trees without asking, “What does the tree need from me?”

As a living organism that is integral to our interdependent web of existence, at the very least the tree needs my respect and admiration. Beyond that, however, I am beginning to appreciate in a deeper way my responsibility to first “do no harm.” Trees can probably live on for centuries without the presence of human beings. The critical question for us now is, “How long can trees live with us given all that we are doing to render the planet inhospitable to life?”

I have learned much from Michael Synder, a Vermont Forrester who writes for Northern Woodlands magazine.[ii] He understands trees in winter in ways I never imagined, or frankly, gave much thought – until now.

Trees live within the cycle of the seasons where they live. Over thousands of years the trees here have adapted to our four seasons. Much of what the tree does to live through winter is invisible to our eyes. Preparation for the dark cold winter is embedded in the tree’s behavior. It begins to prepare for winter during Autumn when it drops it leaves and seals its core living cells against the freezing temperatures of winter. We see the leaves stop producing green chlorophyll as they assume the colors and hydration of Autumn. The tree drops its leaves as it concentrates energy in maintaining the core of the tree – the trunk and branches, and especially the roots.

The roots do amazing work to keep the tree healthy throughout winter. The surface of the ground freezes and the surface roots of the tree freeze as well. The water in the roots at that level freezes and is not available to the rest of the tree for nourishment. It is the deeper roots – below the frost line – that must continue to thrive during winter. Slowed by the dropping temperature, the tree roots continue to support the life of the tree. Michael Synder explains it:
But unlike the aboveground parts of most trees that pass the winter in a prolonged dormancy – marked by unbroken inactivity until spring – tree roots seem to maintain a readiness to grow independent of the aboveground parts of the tree. That is, roots remain mostly inactive but can and do function and grow during winter months whenever soil temperatures are favorable, even if the air aboveground is brutally cold. While roots tend to freeze and die at soil temperatures below 20°F, minimum temperatures for root growth are thought to be between 32 and 41°F. So, if soil temperatures warm to or stay above this minimum, winter roots can break dormancy and become active.

This winter quiescence – where roots are resting but ready – is extremely important for the health of individual trees and, by extension, for forests in general. Indeed, it is this trait that allows evergreens to absorb soil water and avoid winter desiccation in their needles, and it is this trait that allows all species, including deciduous hardwoods, the opportunity to expand their root systems in search of water and nutrients in advance of spring bud break.

But there is an important tradeoff. To maintain this quiescence, a tree’s roots necessarily tend to be much less cold hardy than its stems and branches. This is fine, so long as the soil is sufficiently insulated by a covering of snow against extremely low air temperatures. A good early season snowfall – if it persists – can keep soil unfrozen throughout the coldest of winters. In such years, sustained winter root activity may replace previously damaged roots, may ready the tree for spring bud break, and may translate into excellent aboveground growth during the following summer.
Human activity increases the pace of planetary warming. Trees need a blanket of snow that stays on the ground through the winter. If the ground is covered with snow early in winter, the ground freezes to a minimal depth below which the tree roots continue to live and do their work to sustain the tree. If the ground is not covered, the ground freezes to deeper and deeper levels and freezes the tree’s root system to greater depths. Frozen roots die. Dead roots cannot sustain the life of the tree.

So, while the underground and invisible-to-us life of the tree’s root system is amazing, it is not invincible. Human impact that results in slightly warmer temperatures may mean that trees suffer and die before they can adapt to our changing climate reality. New England is seeing a reduction in the early winter snow pack in our vast and beautiful forests. It is the snowpack that protects the ground from freezing to dangerous depths for tree roots. The life of trees in New England is threatened, by just a slight increase in temperatures.

Is all of this tree talk relevant to the gifts of the season and the Beauty and Wonder that we see in Winter Solstice celebrations? Yes, it is.

My spirituality depends on nature and my spiritual well-being depends on my ability to relate to and live with the natural world around me. I think it is so for many of you. When I think about the unseen and largely unnoticed devastation of even small climate change on our natural world, I weep.

We can do better for our trees. We have the means to respond more appropriately to climate change and global warming. We lack the will. Ok, on a global scale, my individual actions are paltry. Together, we can change the world. At the moment, our collective actions do not favor the trees we love to see in winter as they hunker down saving energy and storing up reserves for the spring thaw and explosion of growth. We can change that. One person one day at a time.

For me, the Solstice and Equinox are times to be outside, to mark the turning of the wheel by appreciating and noticing the wonder and beauty of our natural world. The celebrations of the four turnings are frequently held outdoors. There’s a reason for this. We are creatures of our natural world and as our natural world goes, so go we. If we do not love our world enough to bring our human behavior into alignment with the natural world’s seasons and cycles and pure ability to survive, we will lose much and sacrifice everything dear to us. If we love our world enough to come together and reason our way to better behavior that leads to a healthier natural world for all life on our planet, then we will have well and truly honored the spirit of this season and every season.

My dear Spiritual Companions, we hold our destiny in our hands. May we see and cherish the beauty and wonder that surrounds us this Solstice and throughout our winter season. May we look to the trees for wisdom and strength as we seek deeper relationships with the interdependent web of existence of which we are a part. May we have the courage and conviction to alter our individual behavior in life sustaining ways and may we come together as spiritually alive people of the world to foster and promote the life of our precious planet. As we turn inward during this dark and cold season of the year, may we remember the life-sustaining work of things invisible to us but always at work to bring new life in its own time and its own season. May we too be bearers of life for ourselves and all others.

Blessed Be.   I Love You.   Amen.

“The Shortest Day” — Susan Cooper

And so the Shortest Day came and the year died
And everywhere down the centuries of the snow-white world
Came people singing, dancing,
To drive the dark away.
They lighted candles in the winter trees;
They hung their homes with evergreen;
They burned beseeching fires all night long
To keep the year alive.
All the long echoes, sing the same delight,
This Shortest Day,
As promise wakens in the sleeping land:
They carol, feast, give thanks,
And dearly love their friends,
And hope for peace.

[i] I wonder as I wander out under the sky
How Jesus my Saviour did come for to die
For poor on’ry people like you and like I
I wonder as I wander out under the sky
I wonder as I wander out under the sky
That Jesus my Saviour did come for to die
For poor on’ry people like you and like I
I wonder as I wander out under the sky
I wonder as I wander out under the sky

Songwriters: John Niles / Barry Walsh / Gretchen Peters
I Wonder as I Wander lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Barry Walsh Music

[ii] “What Do Tree Roots Do in Winter?” by Michael Snyder, Winter 2007 Northern Woodlands and “How Do Trees Survive Winter Cold?” by Michael Synder Northern Woodlands, December 2012. Northern Woodlands, P.O. Box 270, 16 On the Common, Lyme, NH 03768