Trees of Life

In the fertile land, the Lord God grew every beautiful tree with edible fruit, and also God grew the tree of life in the middle of the garden and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. (Genesis 2:9, CEB version)

Then the angel showed me the river of life-giving water, [a] shining like crystal, flowing from the throne of God and the Lamb 2 through the middle of the city’s main street. On each side of the river is the tree of life, which produces twelve crops of fruit, bearing its fruit each month. The tree’s leaves are for the healing of the nations. (Revelation 22:1-2, CEB version)

Gather round the fire, my children, and let me tell you the story of the People of the Just Tree Damage.

It was a thought that crossed my mind within a couple of weeks of our tornado. I should write a legend about the People of the Just Tree Damage. Maybe if I gave it flourish and flair people would pay attention and not shrug us off as if what we have been through had no real value.  Because that was what I was hearing from all kinds of people: “Oh, I heard about Bentonville and the tornado. But you all were lucky. You just had tree damage.”

That is true. We just had tree damage. It sounds like from weather reports and analysis that the tornado never really touched down in Bentonville. Instead it hovered above about 2/3rds of the town and churned.  And basically if you were an old tree or a tall tree, you were coming down. And while some of the damage looks like straight line winds because every tree is tipped over in the same direction, a lot of it looks like a tornado lifted trees up by the roots en masse and then dropped them, and those trees fell every which way. And the root balls were enormous and easily uprooted because we had experienced so much rain in the days before, the ground was like cake batter, and it just let them go.

So yes, we just had tree damage. Somewhere around half of my congregation of 600 people just had tree damage. One of those trees smashed through the side of a house, nearly totaling it and definitely relocating the owners for a year or more while they rebuild. One of those trees punctured a roof and allowed insulation and rain to pour into the home, also forcing the owners to have to relocate for more than a year. One of those trees was the heaviest thing a tree company in business for 35 years had ever lifted off of anything. One of those trees was too heavy to be lifted by a crane and had to be cut up, and when the weight was added together it came to 10.5 tons.

But that’s okay, because it is just tree damage.

Some of those trees have fallen across fence lines, and now insurance companies are arguing about who is responsible to pay for the damage. Some of those trees fell right next to houses and created precarious situations for kids who would like to play in the yard, but since the trees didn’t hit structures, insurance won’t pay for their removal, and families are facing bills in the tens of thousands to remove them.  Some of those trees punctured roofs, and roofers won’t touch the repairs without the whole roof being replaced, but the insurance company will only pay for patching. Some of those trees fell on homes or apartments that are being rented, and absent landlords are not responding to pleas from their renters to get them help.

But that’s okay, because it is just tree damage.

I am sure you hear the sarcasm dripping from my tree refrain.

I want us all to stop and reflect on two things when we say something like, “It’s just tree damage.” I know the sentiment behind that saying is that no lives were lost, and of course that is a good thing.  But the first thing I want us to reflect on is that just because no lives were lost does not mean that no lives were disrupted. As I have recounted, people have been displaced, people are having to come up with money they don’t have, and people are caught between companies who have different ideas about what their responsibility is.

But also people are traumatized. In the weeks following the tornadoes, we had more than one night when a storm rolled in at 2 a.m. again, and terrified people all over town as they feared another tree coming down or another storm tearing their lives apart. One of those storms rolled through on another Saturday night, and half of my worship team for our first service was late because they overslept because they woke up in the middle of the night and had to talk themselves back to sleep.  So when we say “It’s just tree damage,” we are minimizing the struggle of the people around us and belittling what they went through.

And then, there are the trees.

Why is it a consolation that “just” trees came down? The loss of trees IS a significant loss.  We don’t just magically snap our fingers and replace a 100 year old tree. We don’t replace the beauty it created.  Or the shade. Or the home for animals. Or the provision for pollinators. Or the oxygen it makes. We don’t replace all that a tree is and all that it does for us.

I do not think it is an accident that God ties trees to life in the Bible.  And to knowledge. Trees contain worlds and time and life within them.  The paradise we lost was centered around a tree, and the paradise that is yet to come is too.  The loss of a tree is real and significant. It is a loss of a part of our creation, a loss of the most beautiful things of this world.

In the weeks following the tornado, one woman told a story.  Their house was spared from significant damage, even though she lived in an area that was hard hit.  It was spared because the trees fell all around their house instead of on it, and the trees kept them sheltered.  She said, “They were just like Shel Silverstein’s Giving Tree.  They gave their lives to keep us safe.”

We are the People of the Tree Damage.  Sadly, terribly, and unjustly so.