| Sunny Side Up Sept.29, 2004 �2004, Kathleen Gibson Lessons from a Banyan While traveling in India we stopped our Jeep for a midday pause. Withering in the heat, my companions and I found shade in a small forest under a cooling canopy of heart-shaped leaves. Many of the trees were feet in diameter. Some were smaller and linked to others, their trunks bending and twisting like dancers turned to stone. We didn't stop at that forest by accident. Before leaving Canada, my travel partner had told me about a tree she wanted me to see here. "This is it," she said, walking into the forest. I looked around. "Where?" She waved her arms. "Here. This is it." "Eldonna," I explained patiently, thinking she'd had too much heat. "This is a forest. Not a tree." "No, no!" our driver, Ernest, insisted. "This is one tree. Banyan." Perplexed, I stared. "No way. Look at all the trunks." "Not trunks," said Ernest, "Roots." Then he explained. The Banyan is one of the most unique trees in the world. When mature, it thrusts out roots from every branch. They're a curious sight then; massive trees with a network of what looks like ropes cascading straight downward beneath them. The roots, Ernest explained, reach ground and push themselves deeply into the soil - or whatever is down there, even stones. Ancient temples and massive monuments are regularly toppled by a single, irresistible Banyan root. The 'rope' thickens into a trunk, grows branches and leaves, eventually pushes out more roots, and the cycle continues. Seven hundred years before I stood there, that 'forest' had been a single tree, now replaced by its 'grandroots', venerable trees themselves. And over all was that lacy green canopy. Some Banyans, I learned, are so colossal that whole villages live under one tree - naturally air-conditioned because the Banyan always has leaves. While some are withering, others are in bud. The canopy is ever changing, but always there. In the eastern countries where they grow, citizens revere Banyans, calling them "many footed ones" or "trees that walk". It's true: as each tree sends out new roots, over centuries the whole tree moves forward! Another pet name for the banyan is the 'mother tree'. Banyans produce a small purple fruit, non-edible for humans; immensely attractive to birds. They fly to the tops of palm trees, eat them there and toss the seeds below. Soon small banyans surround the palm's base, linking and becoming one solid trunk that surrounds and supports the palm as it reaches tall to dust the sky. I couldn't have believed this until I saw it for myself. That scorching day in India, I found something I wasn't looking for: a vivid metaphor of faith. Rooted in God and growing from the strong branch of Jesus Christ, the Christian faith offers others shelter from life's sweltering climate. It supports and provides sustenance. Unashamed of its roots, in spite of stony obstacles, true faith keeps producing and moving forward, willingly offering its strength to the next generation. Lord, make me a Banyan. You can respond to this article at [email protected] |
 |