"and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands"
My church camp growing up sat nestled in the Fort Qu'Appelle Valley of Southern Saskatchewan. The dormitory stood on a hill top, with tree lining either side like sentinels. They were either aspens or poplars, whichever one is the classic prairie windbreak, complete with wide, heart-shaped leaves that whispered, rustled, or roared, as the wind moved between them. I stood in the chapel, up on the second floor, surrounded by those trees, their rustling, whispers, and roars coming through the screens that filled half the walls on either side of the iconostas. I listened, and thought back to Christ's words comparing the wind in the trees to the work of God: you can't see it, but you see what it does. Hearing it is the word of God to me, the celebration of his creation.
Those trees are in the church tonight, icon stands and doorways decked in boughs of heart-shaped green. All in celebration of Holy Pentecost, the birth of the Church, and the coming of the Holy Spirit. The green is to symbolize the spirit, I doubt the species of tree remains the same around the globe. But I'm thankful for my prairie windbreaks coming indoors for the occasion; they remind me not only of the green life of the Spirit, but the rush of wind that preceded the tongues of fire. The trees are indoors today, just like that roaring wind.
As Isaiah foretold, the tree of the field clap their hands.
Joining - late again - with Lisa-Jo for Five Minute Friday.