According to medieval bestiaries the phoenix is a rare bird that lives in Arabia. There is only one living phoenix in the world at any time. When it is old, it builds a pyre of wood and spices and climbs onto it. There it faces the sun and the fire ignites; it fans the fire with its wings until it is completely consumed. A new phoenix rises from the ashes of the old.
Another miraculous bird is the pelican. As young pelicans grow, they begin to strike their parents in the face with their beaks. Though the pelican has great love for its young, it strikes back and kills them. After three days, the mother pierces her side or her breast and lets her blood fall on the dead birds, and thus revives them.
A third tale from the bestiaries concerns not an animal but a tree. The peridexion tree grows in India. Doves gather in the tree because they like the sweet fruit, and because there they are safe from the dragon. The dragon hates the doves and would harm them if it could, but it fears the shadow of the peridexion tree and stays on the unshaded side of it. The doves that stay in the shadow are safe, but any who leave it are caught and eaten by the dragon.
With all these medieval stories, there is an allegorical meaning. The phoenix and the pelican are Christ, whose resurrection from death to life is transmitted to Christians through the sacrament of Communion. And the peridexion tree is the church. The doves are the faithful Christians, who are safe from the devil-dragon as long as they remain in the shadow of the church. Christ is the right side of the tree, the Holy Spirit the left side. The devil is afraid of the church and will not come near, but the Christian who leaves the church should beware.
As we gather for this service of tenebrae (shadows), we may lack the imagination and credulity of medieval Christians, but we tell tonight's ancient story to remind ourselves that the same Power in the Universe that made possible Jesus' liberating ministry can transform the world today. No matter how overwhelming our lives might seem--in spite of the shadows of wars, disasters, and devastations; in spite of the betrayals of politicians who ignore the needy and serve the wealthy; in spite of our personal crises and emotional pains--the reality we affirm on this night is that God’s goodness can again become dominant in all of us, and we have the power to act together to heal the world just as Jesus did.
The Garden of Eden, you may recall, contained two trees. One of them caused all the trouble. But the other, mentioned almost as an afterthought, was the tree of life: the live-forever tree whose fruit put an end to death.
This tree became identified with the cross on which Jesus Christ was crucified, and stood for resurrected life and the conquest of death.
The same tree appears at the end of the Bible. In the Book of Revelation, chapter 22, has a vision of "the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb through the middle of the street of the city. On either side of the river is the tree of life with its twelve kinds of fruit, producing its fruit each month; and the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations."
Fred Kaan was pastor of Pilgrim Congregational Church, Plymouth (England), when he wrote "We Meet You, O Christ," No. 311 in our hymnal. The hymn was a response to something that happened in Plymouth years before he was called there. Seventy years ago, in March/April, 1941 a large swathe of inner city Plymouth was razed to the ground in a horrendous series of nights known as the Plymouth Blitz. The St. Andrews Church organ had just been rebuilt - not a particularly wise thing to do in war, but the principal donor was concerned that if the rebuild was delayed he might not live to see it. About three days after the rebuild was completed, on the night of March 21, 1941, the church was gutted by bombs and fire. The organ went up in flames along with everything else; it had not even been heard in public. The church was an empty shell. The church walls and tower were the only things left standing.
The next morning someone placed a wooden board over the north door saying simply "Resurgam" (a Latin word meaning "I shall rise again"), expressing the wartime spirit. In the midst of devastation, when spirits were lowest, a symbol of hope and courage and faith. The ruins were laid out as gardens and services were once again held (for almost a decade) in what became known as the Garden Church.
Some time later a photo was taken of the still ruined building – but there in the rubble of what had been the nave, there was the miracle – an apple tree pushing through the rubble and in blossom. Fred Kaan wrote his song for a TV series "Seeing and Believing" on the 25th anniversary of the destruction of Plymouth. The photograph of the tree in the ruins of St. Andrew's was the theme for the program. Kaan's song ends with the line “the tree springs to life and our hope is restored.”
A new foundation stone was laid at St. Andrew's Church October 22nd 1949, and the church was rebuilt in the 1950's, including a new organ in 1957. To this day the entrance of the church is called the Resurgam door and a granite plaque with the word engraved is now permanently placed there.
We, too, can find our way through the debris left in the wake of violence against the creation and the creator. In grief or loss, look to the tree. The tree springs to life and hope is restored. Resurgam—I will rise again.
--Jack Lohr, Interim Pastor
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