(Arboricultural-styled) 'Fact of the Day'

[TIMON]

09/10/2016. Fact #206

 

 

 

The principal religion of the West is, in present day, Christianity. In this sense, it seems wise to begin my assessment of trees and the world religions by exploring how the religion of Christianity is associated with trees, and what different trees symbolise within the religion. In total, the Bible references trees over 525 times (only humans are mentioned more often), of which the references relate to a suggested 25 different species (Musselman, 2007).

 

 

 

Before delving into specifics however, one can start right at the beginning of the Old Testament of the Bible, in Genesis 1. Here, on the third day of creation, before any other life forms were created, God was said to create all of the plant life that can be found in this world though, of course, only those plants that can reproduce naturally (Evans, 2014; Musselman, 2007). God also remarked that his trees were all “pleasing to the eye”, which is suggestive of the innate natural beauty man (usually) finds in trees. Soon after, and still within Genesis, man is requested, by God, to ‘subdue’ his creations – trees included, for the food they provide, firewood (Leviticus 6:12-13), timber, and other materials and resources. Whether such a phrase means to dominate or to steward (responsibly protect) is certainly up for discussion, and discussion has indeed been undertaken (Altman, 2000; Cohen, 1985; Daneel, 2011; Fortin, 1995; Johnson, 2000; Kay, 1988; Rolston, 1993; Sadowski, 2012; White, 1967), though certainly in recent times Christians have taken it upon themselves to conserve and enhance the natural world, of which trees feature markedly (within pasture, woodland, forest, and otherwise) (Evans, 2014; Hall, 2011). At least historically, though perhaps carrying on to present day, White (1967) does however remark that Christianity is “the most anthropocentric religion the world has seen”.

 

 

 

In the view of Attfield (1983), White’s stance is an over-dramatisation of how the world view of nature has changed, since the emergence of Christianity. Interestingly, some modern day Christian theologians do share White’s stance, and promote a more ecologically-friendly world view (Haberman, 2013). However, as Christians are monotheistic and therefore do not deify trees, their value is perhaps inherently lesser than in polytheistic, pantheistic, and animistic religions (Cusack, 2011; Hall, 2011; Sadowski, 2012), which generally hold trees at the core of worship; either as the world axis (axis mundi) or world image (imago mundi) – or, sometimes, both (Cusack, 2011). This may, for example, explain why there is a lack of literature relating to trees, during the Christian-dominated Middle Ages in England (Hooke, 2010).

 

 

 

Furthermore, it is one reason for why the Bible generally, though not always, refers to plants as non-living (non-sentient and mechanical) organisms – such is certainly the case in Genesis during the days of creation, and again when Noah takes two of all living beings (excluding any plant whatsoever) onto his ark (Hall, 2011). Where plants (including trees) are referred to as possessing sentience (such as in Judges 9, where the trees vote to have as forest king the tree known botanically as Ziziphus spina-christi), it is generally a case of plants being used in a metaphorical fashion, instead of being referred to directly. Another reason, Hall (2011) states, is the fact that Christian scholars and philosophers (such as St. Augustine and Thomas Aquinas) adopted Aristotle’s view on plants, which was one of them ranking below both humans and animals, and made by God to benefit man (and thus enables humans to avoid moral dilemmas when it comes to utilising plants). This Aristotelean viewpoint (at best zoocentric and at worst anthropocentric) will be discussed in more depth later on in another post.

 

 

 

 

A mature Ziziphus spina-christi. Source: Wikimedia Commons.

 

 

 

Before touching upon the specific tree species referred to within the Bible, it is important to recognise the four trees of greatest importance: (1) the Tree of Life (Genesis 2:9); (2) the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil (Genesis 2:9); (3) the tree upon which Jesus died, and (for a second time); (4) the Tree of Life (Revelations 22:2) (Beattie & Stenhouse, 2007; Evans, 2014; Musselman, 2007). The second tree mentioned, the tree of knowledge of good and evil, has traditionally been considered an apple (Malus sp. – ‘Malus’ in the sense of it meaning ‘evil’), though some texts also refer to it as a fig (Ficus sp.), date (Phoenix dactylifera), apricot (Prunus armeniaca), pomegranate (Punica granatum) or even a tree without a species identification (Altman, 2000; Hamilton, 2002; Musselman, 2007; Western, 1961). The Tree of Life (from Genesis), on the other hand, whilst not necessarily a particular species (though potentially a yew – Taxus baccata – or cedar of Lebanon – Cedrus libani), is likened to the imago mundi when it is compared to Jesus in the popular German Christian poem ‘Der Traume des Baume‘, and because of its location close to a primeval water source within the Garden of Eden it may also be the axis mundi (Altman, 2000; Cusack, 2011; Hageneder, 2000). In fact, even the crucifixion of Christ is incredibly similar to how Óðinn hangs himself upon Yggdrasil, the Nordic axis mundi (and also imago mundi – supporting the Nine Worlds), to obtain the runes that are of immense benefit to the Nordic people. On this note, the potential exchangeability of the cross for the tree (and vice versa) is thus not at all far-fetched, within the Christian faith (de Cleene & Lejeune, 1999).

 

 

 

 

Óðinn hanging upon Yggdrasil, which shares similarities to the crucifixion of Christ. Source: Wikimedia Commons.

 

 

 

Delving into some of the tree species of the Bible (Old Testament and New Testament, with the Old Testament having importance not only for Christians but also Jews – therefore, some of the below also has importance to the Jewish religion), and progressing alphabetically, one can start with the acacia (Acacia spp.). Musselman (2007) writes that the tabernacle, which was a portable place of worship that the Children of Israel took with them across the wilderness, was made entirely of acacia (likely to be made from the wood of Acacia albida). There is also suggestion of Noah’s Ark being made from acacia wood, though the prevailing consensus is that the Ark was made from the wood of the cypress (Cupressus sp.) (de Cleene & Lejeune, 1999; Western, 1961). Furthermore, the acacia was what Christ’s crown of thorns was made from, and is also a symbol of immortality (de Cleene & Lejeune, 1999).

 

 

 

The almond (Prunus dulcis) is also mentioned in the Bible, though only six times and exclusively within the Old Testament (Musselman, 2007). The most iconic of the references to the almond would be Aaron’s rod, which was presented, by Moses, along with eleven other species of tree branch (given by the Houses of the Israelites), to God. Moses placed the twelve branches in the ground, and come the following morning Aaron’s rod, the almond branch had budded, flowered, and already set fruit, of which all the almonds had ripened (de Cleene & Lejeune, 1999; Musselman, 2007; Wood, 1942). Mentioned even less than the almond, and in fact only once, is the carob (Ceratonia siliqua). Its reference is not even directly in relation to humans, but instead pigs, with the fruits being used as fodder for fattening pigs (Musselman, 2007). Even today, the carob may indeed be used to fatten pigs, prior to slaughter (Guarrera et al., 2006).

 

 

 

 

Aaron’s rod after having broken its buds, and thus coming into leaf. Source: Wikimedia Commons.

 

 

 

The highly impressive and ever-popular cedar of Lebanon (Cedrus libani), unsurprisingly, also features within the Bible. In the geographical region in which the Bible refers to, the cedar of Lebanon was the tallest tree, and was therefore revered within the passages of the Bible where it was referred to as a mighty king, and held a very high status amongst Semitic cultures (de Cleene & Lejeune, 1999; Musselman, 2007). For this reason, its timber was also used to construct the palaces of kings, and was the timber used to build the Temple of Solomon (Anderson, 1908; Evans, 2014; Liphschitz & Biger, 1992; Meiggs, 1982), and was sourced from the southern region of Tyre (which was geographically the most local source), under decree from the King of Tyre (Musselman, 2007), who had good relations with Solomon’s father (Meiggs, 1982).

 

 

 

In fact, the wood of the cedar was used not only for the roof beams, but interior walls were entirely covered with cedar wood panels (Evans, 2014). The larger of the temple doors were also made of cedar, whilst the flooring was likely made with wood of the cypress (Cupressus sermpervirens), or possibly the juniper (Juniperus sp.) (Meiggs, 1982). It is more probable that the former was used, much like its timber was used to make grand doors and statues elsewhere, because of its very high quality. For this reason, the cypress was held in very high regard – on the level of the cedar of Lebanon, and oak (Quercus sp.) (Liphschitz & Biger, 1989; Musselman, 2007), and this might explain why the cypress features in some engravings alongside the crucifix (Bintley, 2011). The wood of the olive (Olea spp.) was also utilised in the construction of the temple, either for internal doors, for door frames, or for intricate carvings within the temple itself (Meiggs, 1982); upon which palm trees (Phoenix dactylifera) would, amongst other objects, have been carved, in order to remind those present of the Garden of Eden (Altman, 2000; Evans, 2014).

 

 

 

 

Gustave Doré’s depiction of the felling of timber that was destined for the construction of Solomon’s temple. Source: The University of Adelaide.

 

 

 

The date palm (Phoenix dactylifera), which was mentioned both earlier as being one of the candidates for the tree of knowledge of good and evil, and directly above in the design of the Temple of Solomon, also therefore features within biblical texts. It is, beyond what is mentioned prior, attributed to human morphology, given its wholly upright growing habit (Musselman, 2007). Foliage of the palm was also taken by visitors who went to greet Jesus in Jerusalem, on the day of Passover (John 12: 12-13) (Altman, 2000). More fundamentally, this tree provided sugar-rich and mineral-rich fruit, even in the desert-like areas of that region (Berry et al., 2011; Jubrael et al., 2005). The fruit of the date palm may even have been made into a sweet syrup or honey (Evans, 2014). The timber, Evans (2014) states, may also have been used for construction, and its foliage for roofing, during the biblical times. However, the date palm was not a tree that was to be felled when a city or land area was claimed following on from war, because of its valuable fruit crop, as referred to in Deuteronomy 20:19-20 (Evans, 2014; Hall, 2011). This further signifies its importance, in Biblical times.

 

 

 

Fig trees are also mentioned within the Bible, and the species Ficus carica and Ficus sycomorus are perhaps the fig trees referred to when references do arise, because of their commonality in the region (Musselman, 2007; Western, 1961; Włodarczyk, 2007). Curiously, the fig is the only tree that Jesus ever placed a curse upon (that withered and died within hours), as mentioned in Mark 11:20-21. The reason behind this may have been because the fig, whilst spectacular in full leaf, did not bear fruit, though this may have been because it was too early in the season when Jesus was drawn to it. Evans (2014) remarks, with some hilarity, that the fig’s location of Bethphage, literally translates to “the place of unripe figs”, so perhaps the fig was unjustly cursed in this regard.

 

 

 

Beyond the curse, leaves of the fig tree were used by Adam and Eve to cover themselves when they realise that they were naked, within the Garden of Eden (Musselman, 2007). The fruits, without doubt, were also well-received, and thus harvested in abundance and enjoyed by the populaces (either fresh or dried) (Evans, 2014; Moldenke, 1954), though there is also reference in the Bible to a poultice of the fruit being used to treat boils (Musselman, 2007). In the case of the Barren Fig of the Bible, however, it is evident that the fig is only cared for because of its material value to humans. After not producing fruit for three years, the tree’s owner requests for the workers to cut it down, for it has no use and takes up space on the ground (Hall, 2011). One can draw a similar conclusion from how Jesus dealt with the fig tree he placed a curse upon, solely because it was of no material value to him at the time of his visit to the tree.

 

 

 

 

The Barren Fig, as depicted by the Dutch artist Jan Luyken. Source: Wikimedia Commons.

 

 

 

Moving on, at the birth of Jesus, the Bible, in Matthew 2:11, refers to the offering of frankincense and myrrh by the visiting Magi. Such products would have likely originated from trees located in the Arabian Peninsula and the Horn of Africa, with the frankincense being sourced from the resin of species of the genus Boswellia (Musselman, 2007; Włodarczyk, 2007), and the myrrh sourced from the resin of the small tree (or, more accurately, large shrub) Cammiphora myrrha (Evans, 2014). These resins would therefore have reached Jesus’ birthplace through a trade route, and because of their desirable aroma they would also have been sourced in greater abundance for wider use (Musselman, 2007). Another product, ebony wood (sourced from the heartwood of the tree Dalbergia melanoxylon), would have probably also come along such trade routes, having too had its origins within Africa. The wood was highly valued in Biblical times, and is mentioned within Ezekiel 27:15 as a very important trade commodity (Musselman, 2007), which was oft used to make furniture (Meiggs, 1982).

 

 

 

Much like the cedar of Lebanon, which was held in great esteem in biblical texts, the oak (namely Quercus calliprinos and Quercus ithaburensis) is viewed in a similar light (Musselman, 2007). In the Old Testament, the oak is considered to be a mighty and strong tree with marked commemorative importance (Evans, 2014; Musselman, 2007). In fact, many important events took place under the oak, such as Abraham constructing an altar by an oak in Moreh (Wright, 1921). The oak is also referenced to, within Ezekiel 27:6, as a suitable timber for making oars, and therefore it can also be recognised that the oak had practical value as well as intrinsic value. Beyond the genus itself, species it hosted were also of use in biblical times, with a particular example being a coccoid scale (suspected to be Kermes echinatus) that produced a scarlet dye, when harvested from the Kermes oak (Quercus calliprinos). In fact, such a dye is referenced to in Exodus, Leviticus, and Samuel, and has uses both in the secular (dying garments) and ritual (cleansing lepers) sense (Amar et al., 2005).

 

 

 

The olive (Olea europaea var. oleaster) is also regarded as a very important tree within the Bible, and is mentioned a total of 25 times as a tree, and a further 160 for the oil its crop produces (Musselman, 2007). Curiously, there is no explicit mention within the texts of the olive ever being consumed by man (albeit the oil was) (Kaniewski et al., 2012), though the tree nonetheless had almost divine associations – this may explain why olive oil constituted part of the anointing oil used by the high priests, in Exodus 30:24. Olive oil did however have an array of other uses, including as lighting oil, as soap, as an ointment for the skin, and as a preservative for wooden shields clad with leather (Musselman, 2007; Train, 2004). The branches of the olive tree were also seen as symbols of peace and hope (Evans, 2014; Gruchy, 2007; Train, 2004), and the tree itself was valued as an amenity tree in the landscape setting (Musselman, 2007) and even compared, by Jeremiah, to the prosperous Israel (Kaniewski et al., 2012). As mentioned earlier in this section, the wood of the olive was also used in the construction of the Temple of Solomon.

 

 

 

 

A grove of mature olive trees. Source: Wikimedia Commons.

 

 

 

Remaining with fruit trees, the pistachio (Pistacia vera) is a further species mentioned within the Bible – though only once. This reference is within Genesis 43:11, where the nuts from the pistachio tree were included, amongst other items, in a gift parcel dispatched to the leader of Egypt, from Canaan, which was carried by Joseph’s brothers (Moldenke, 1954; Musselman, 2007). Other species of the genus Pistacia (Pistacia atlantica, Pistacia lentiscus, and Pistacia palestina) also feature within the Bible, and were, because of their great size, used as landmarks; as were they used in memorialising the dead (Musselman, 2007), and for burying (beneath the tree) artefacts – and perhaps also memories – relating to foreign gods (Evans, 2014; Musselman, 2007). Cheshire (2003) even suggests that the root of hospitality and caring within the Christian (and Jewish) stems back to when Abraham set up camp amongst the terebinths (pistacias) in Mamre, as stated within Genesis.

 

 

 

Within Genesis, there is also reference to the plane tree (Platanus orientalis) as fodder for sheep (Evans, 2014), as is there reference in Ezekiel where the king of Egypt is compared to a tree, though a tree that outshone any literal tree in the geographical region. Within this comparison, the tree that represents (figuratively) the king of Egypt has greater importance than a cedar of Lebanon, better branches that a cypress, and larger boughs than those found on a plane tree (Musselman, 2007). From this, one can certainly infer that the king of Egypt was seen in the highest of regards, and that the plane was recognised as possessing massive boughs in biblical times.

 

 

 

A further very important tree, mentioned a total of 17 times in the Bible, is the pomegranate (Punica granatum). Like the olive’s oil was used by the high priests, the pomegranate was found upon their garments, and upon the Temple of Solomon’s two entrance pillars were carved 200 pomegranates (Musselman, 2007). Furthermore, the Song of Solomon refers to the pomegranate as being a fruit of distinct beauty (Evans, 2014). The tree is also regarded as one that brings fertility, abundance, and good fortunes (Duman et al., 2009; Jurenka, 2008).

 

 

 

 

The vibrant innards of a pomegranate. Source: Wikimedia Commons.

 

 

 

Less majestic in terms of its fruit but nonetheless a great physical presence, the poplar (specifically Populus alba and Populus euphratica) is yet another tree genus featured within the texts of the Bible. The poplar is referred to within Genesis, in which its branches are used, alongside those of almond and plane, for the increased desired fecundity of Jacob’s sheep, in a form of genetic experiment to change the physical characteristics of the flock from that of Laban’s (Evans, 2014; Musselman, 2007). The Euphrates poplar was also used by exiles within Babylon to hang their harps (upon the trees’ branches). A common mistake is that one assumed these harps were hung upon weeping willows, though a translation error led to such misinterpretations of the text. As a result, the weeping willow, which was not even found in the region, adopted its inaccurate scientific name Salix babylonica (Launer, 2005; Musselman, 2007). In fact, within Babylon, the Euphrates poplar was also seen to symbolise the deep-rooted power of the empire (Launer, 2005).

 

 

 

The leafless tamarisk (Tamarix aphylla), with a native range that includes the Dead Sea region, features twice (explicitly) within the Bible. The first mention is within Genesis 21, where Abraham, in order to worship the Lord and establish a direct connection between man and God, planted a tamarisk in Beersheba (Evans, 2014; Musselman, 2007; Schoors, 1990). The motives behind the planting of a tree in place of an altar is perhaps intriguing, given that Abraham had previously constructed an altar in Shechem, in order to establish a link with God. The rationale behind using a tree, let alone a tamarisk, is not explicitly explained, though it may perhaps have been to make the place of worship less overt in the landscape (Kwakkel, 2010).

 

 

 

 

The leafless tamarisk (Tamarix aphylla). Source: Arizona State University.

 

 

 

The second reference to the tamarisk is within I Samuel 22, where Saul held court beneath the tree’s canopy atop a hill in Gibeah. A court being held beneath a tamarisk is probably because of its evident presence upon the barren landscape of the Dead Sea region, so the tree was at least revered on a local geographical scale. It also appears that Saul was, upon his death, buried underneath a tamarisk (Musselman, 2007), which gives it further importance. In addition, Meiggs (1982) alleges that, in accordance with the translation of historical texts by certain individuals, the tamarisk was also used in the construction and decoration of the Temple of Solomon, as was it used in the construction of storage facilities in Beersheba, which is incidentally the same city as where Abraham planted a tamarisk.

 

 

 

The walnut (Juglans regia) and the willow (Salix acmophylla and Salix alba) are the last two tree genera to feature within the Bible. The former, the walnut, is referred to only once, in Song of Songs 6:11, where it is a symbol of fertility (Musselman, 2007). The latter, the willow, is mentioned a few times, though generally in relation only to its presence along watercourses and for its large size, under which individuals could shelter from the sun (Evans, 2014; Launer, 2005; Musselman, 2007).

 

 

 

Away from trees mentioned within the Bible, a particularly sacred tree for the Christians is located upon Wearyall Hill, Glastonbury, UK. This tree, a common hawthorn (Crataegus monogyna ‘Biflora’) that flowers twice per year (in Spring and around the time of Christmas), supposedly grew as a result of Joseph of Arimathea (who came to England, in order to spread the word of Christianity) thrusting his staff, brought to the UK from the Holy Lands, into the ground upon the Hill (Bowman, 2004; Brown, 1946; Cusack, 2011). The spot in which Joseph thrust his staff is meant to therefore be the place where the Christian Church started, in England (Hollow, 1971). Curiously, de Cleene & Lejeune (1999) suggest that thorny trees repelled demons and the devil by virtue of their thorns, and thus this might potentially be an explanation as to why this tree was a hawthorn.

 

 

 

Particularly during the Middle Ages, the site was a very popular pilgrimage spot, though became out-of-favour during the Protestant Reformation and was cut down by English parliamentary soldiers during the Civil War of the 1640s and 1650s (Cusack, 2011; Walsham, 2004). From then on, further specimens of the tree have been grown from cuttings taken from that original tree, and as of 1929, each December, the history of this tree is celebrated in the Holy Thorn Ceremony (Bowman, 2004; Bowman, 2006). In recent years, the tree has suffered from many instances of vandalism, and cuttings are therefore still taken and propagated from the tree in an attempt to continue its existence (Cusack, 2011).

 

 

 

 

One of the instances of vandalism to the Glastonbury thorn. Source: Daily Mail.

 

 

 

Augustine’s Oak, whilst not a sacred tree per se, is also a tree that is important to Christians. Under this oak did the Roman missionary Augustine meet with Christian leaders from across Wales and England, in an attempt to convert the British Saxons of the time away from their heathen faith and towards the Christian god (Cusack, 2011; Higham, 1997). Unfortunately, these leaders did not accept Augustine’s request for a combined approach towards the evangelisation of the faith, though the meeting under such a grand oak tree nonetheless outlines the importance trees held as landscape features fit for critical religious and political discourse.

 

 

 

The followers of Christianity have also been responsible for the loss of sacred trees, and most notably those of competing religions (Hamilton, 2002). For example, St. Martin, the Bishop of Tours, during the 14th century, cut down the sacred tree (a pine) within a heathen temple. Similarly, St. Boniface, between 722-724 A.D., during efforts to convert Germanic tribes who practiced Paganism, felled a large and very sacred oak tree (Donar’s Oak), which was considered to be of great importance to the tribe (Hooke, 2012). Christianity has also assumed (‘Christianised’) select sacred trees of other religions (Bintley, 2015; Kizos, 2014), and notably those of pagan significance (Altman, 2000; Bintley & Shapland, 2013; Cusack, 2013; Hamilton, 2002). Generally speaking, these assumed trees would then not have been celebrated (Haberman, 2013), and instead a saint or prophet might have replaced the worship of the tree or sacred grove (Dafni, 2007b; de Cleene & Lejeune, 1999; Ellen, 2016; Ormsby, 2013), though some trees may have retained their spiritual (and also practical) value – even if within the grounds of a church (Cusack, 2011; Kizos, 2014).

 

 

 

 

An engraving (by the artist Bernhard Rode) of St. Boniface that depicts him felling the sacred oak. Source: Wikimedia Commons.

 

 

 

It was usually only when the Christian sites were destroyed, however, that these once sacred places regained their natural sanctity (Cusack, 2011; Valk, 2009); or, in rebellion to Christianity, new pagan religions arose that created new sacred groves as worship sites (Jonuks, 2007). At times, Christians were even barred from the sacred sites of other religions, to so safeguard the sites from ‘pollution’ (Vaitkevičius, 2009). In certain instances, Christians would also celebrate Mass in forests seen as sacred by other religions and cultures, in an attempt to demonstrate the superiority of their god (Juhé-Beaulaton & Roussel 2003). Non-sacred forests utilised by other American and European cultures, upon the arrival of the Christians, would also be partially or fully cleared, both for agricultural (including pasturing) purposes, and because the clearance was associated with taming the feral and disordered land of the heathens that previously owned and frequented it (Bieling & Plieninger, 2003). Curiously, changing outlooks within Christianity have even led to sacred trees of the religion being targeted, such as how the The Holy Thorn of Glastonbury (as detailed above) was initially, alongside the natural world (on a broader scale), “desacralised”, following the Reformation, in the UK (Walsham, 2004).

 

 

 

Beyond the destruction and adoption of trees that were considered sacred to other religions and cultures, it is possible that Asherah, the fertility goddess that featured within the Hebrew Bible, and potentially therefore the Old Testament, was removed from biblical texts (Hooke, 2012). Asherah was oft depicted as a sacred tree (or pole) by the Canaanites (and was worshipped by some of the Ancient Semitic religions from the Levant) (Dever, 1984; Stuckey, 2005), and such trees and poles would reside within their sacred grounds atop mountains and in other high places (Lechler, 1937; Na’aman & Lissovsky, 2008). There are also suggestions that Asherah was, in fact, a tree – a tree that was planted alongside a sacred altar to God (Hadley, 2000); at times, there may have been sacred groves of these trees (Pearce, 1982; von Feldt, 2014). Such sacred groves are, in fact, largely alien to the Christian faith (Dafni, 2006; Dafni, 2007a; Decher, 1997), given that their connotations with the heathens (the Celtic druids, largely) (Hamilton, 2002; Swamy et al., 2003) lead to their destruction and spiritual abandonment (Bhagwat & Rutte, 2006; Cusack, 2011; Gadgil, 1993), and this process has continued through to the present time (Ormsby, 2011). Because Asherah had pagan origins, and the fertility associations were problematic (in part because of the poles were acting as gathering points for ‘sacred prostitutes’, and because fertility cults of Asherah would frequent the houses of prostitutes), this goddess may therefore have been removed from biblical literature (Ardakani et al., 2015; Dever, 1984; Ramshaw, 1989).

 

 

 

 

Small statuettes or icons of Asherah. Source: Doves & Serpents.

 

 

 

References (see my blog post for links to all sources)

 

 

 

Altman, N. (2000) Sacred Trees: Spirituality, Wisdom & Well-Being. USA: Sterling Publishing.

 

 

 

Amar, Z., Gottlieb, H., Varshavsky, L., & Iluz, D. (2005) The scarlet dye of the Holy Land. BioScience. 55 (12). p1080-1083.

 

 

 

Anderson, M. (1908) The cedars of Lebanon. Torreya. 8 (12). p287-292.

 

 

 

Ardakani, Z., Akhondi, M., Mahmoodzadeh, H., & Hosseini, S. (2015) An Evaluation of the Historical Importance of Fertility and Its Reflection in Ancient Mythology. Journal of Reproduction & Infertility. 17 (1). p2-9.

 

 

 

Attfield, R. (1983) Christian attitudes to nature. Journal of the History of Ideas. 44 (3). p369-386.

 

 

 

Beattie, J. & Stenhouse, J. (2007) Empire, environment and religion: God and the natural world in nineteenth-century New Zealand. Environment and History. 13 (4). p413-446.

 

 

 

Berry, E., Arnoni, Y., & Aviram, M. (2011) The Middle Eastern and biblical origins of the Mediterranean diet. Public Health Nutrition. 14 (12a). p2288-2295.

 

 

 

Bhagwat, S. & Rutte, C. (2006) Sacred groves: potential for biodiversity management. Frontiers in Ecology and the Environment. 4 (10). p519-524.

 

 

 

Bieling, C. & Plieninger, T. (2003) ‘Stinking, disease-spreading brutes’ or ‘four-legged landscape managers’? Livestock, pastoralism and society in Germany and the USA. Outlook on Agriculture. 32 (1). p7-12.

 

 

 

Bintley, M. (2011) The Byzantine Silver Bowls in the Sutton Hoo Ship Burial and Tree-Worship in Anglo-Saxon England. Papers from the Institute of Archaeology. 21 (1). p34-45.

 

 

 

Bintley, M. & Shapland, M. (2013) An introduction to trees and timber in the Anglo-Saxon world. In Bintley, M. & Shapland, M. (eds.) Trees and Timber in the Anglo-Saxon World. USA: Oxford University Press.

 

 

 

Bowman, M. (2004) Presidential address given to the Folklore society, March 2004. Folklore. 115 (3). p273-285.

 

 

 

Bowman, M. (2006) The Holy Thorn Ceremony: Revival, Rivalry and Civil Religion in Glastonbury. Folklore. 117 (2). p123-140.

 

 

 

Brown, T. (1946) St. Joseph of Arimathea at Glastonbury. Folklore. 57 (2). p75-79.

 

 

 

Cheshire, W. (2003) Twigs of Terebinth: The ethical origins of the hospital in the Judeo-Christian tradition. Ethics & Medicine. 19 (3). p143-153.

 

 

 

Cohen, J. (1985) The Bible, Man, and Nature in the History of Western Thought: A Call for Reassessment. The Journal of Religion. 65 (2). p155-172.

 

 

 

Cusack, C. (2011) The Sacred Tree: Ancient and Medieval Manifestations. UK: Cambridge Scholars Publishing.

 

 

 

Dafni, A. (2006) On the typology and the worship status of sacred trees with a special reference to the Middle East. Journal of Ethnobiology and Ethnomedicine. 2 (26). p1-14.

 

 

 

Dafni, A. (2007a) Rituals, ceremonies and customs related to sacred trees with a special reference to the Middle East. Journal of Ethnobiology and Ethnomedicine. 3 (28). p1-15.

 

 

 

Dafni, A. (2007b) The supernatural characters and powers of sacred trees in the Holy Land. Journal of Ethnobiology and Ethnomedicine. 3 (10). p1-16.

 

 

 

Daneel, M. (2011) Christian mission and earth-care: An African case study. International Bulletin of Missionary Research. 35 (3). p130-136.

 

 

 

de Cleene, M. & Lejeune, M. (1999) Compendium of Symbolic and Ritual Plants in Europe – Volume I: Trees & Shrubs. Belgium: Mens & Cultuur.

 

 

 

Decher, J. (1997) Conservation, small mammals, and the future of sacred groves in West Africa. Biodiversity & Conservation. 6 (7). p1007-1026.

 

 

 

Dever, W. (1984) Asherah, Consort of Yahweh? New Evidence from Kuntillet ʿAjrûd. Bulletin of the American Schools of Oriental Research. 255 (Summer 1984). p21-37.

 

 

 

Duman, A., Ozgen, M., Dayisoylu, K., Erbil, N., & Durgac, C. (2009) Antimicrobial activity of six pomegranate (Punica granatum L.) varieties and their relation to some of their pomological and phytonutrient characteristics. Molecules. 14 (5). p1808-1817.

 

 

 

Ellen, R. (2016) Nuaulu ritual regulation of resources, sasi and forest conservation in eastern Indonesia. South East Asia Research. 24 (1). p5-22.

 

 

 

Evans, J. (2014) God’s Trees: Trees, forests and wood in the Bible. UK: Day One.

 

 

 

Fortin, E. (1995) The Bible made me do it: Christianity, science, and the environment. The Review of Politics. 57 (2). p197-224.

 

 

 

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Haberman, D. (2013) People Trees: Worship of Trees in Northern India. USA: Oxford University Press.

 

 

 

Hadley, J. (2000) The Cult of Asherah in Ancient Israel and Judah: Evidence for a Hebrew Goddess. UK: Cambridge University Press.

 

 

 

Hall, M. (2011) Plants as Persons: A Philosophical Botany. USA: Suny Press.

 

 

 

Hamilton, L. (2002) Forest and tree conservation through metaphysical constraints. The George Wright Forum. 19 (3). p57-78.

 

 

 

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Hollow, J. (1971) William Morris and the Judgment of God. Publications of the Modern Language Association of America. 86 (3). p446-451.

 

 

 

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Hooke, D. (2012) Tree Symbolism throughout History. In Rotherham, I., Handley, C., Agnoletti, M., & Samojlik, T. (eds.) Trees Beyond the Wood: an exploration of concepts of woods, forests and trees. UK: Wildtrack Publishing.

 

 

 

Johnson, W. (2000) The Bible on environmental conservation: a 21st century prescription. Electronic Green Journal. 1 (12). p1-254.

 

 

 

Jonuks, T. (2007) Holy groves in Estonian religion. Estonian Journal of Archaeology. 11 (1). p3-35.

 

 

 

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Fascinating post. Really appreciate you taking the time and effort to share it.

Thanks

[Kveldssanger]

Strong use of the quote button! Hahah. Thank you, nonetheless - I learned a lot, and have a lot more to share on trees and religion.

[TIMON]

Strong use of the quote button! Hahah. Thank you, nonetheless - I learned a lot, and have a lot more to share on trees and religion.

 

 

I realised that when I tried to send it 🙂. Incidentally, one of the things that I find fascinating about the construction of Solomons Temple is that all the timbers (and all of the other materials) were felled, hewn, cut and pre-fabricated to the exact sizes before they were transported to the site.

Like a giant flat pack almost!

[Kveldssanger]

Indeed! Quite amazing, really. Meiggs' book is one you'd love (referenced in the Christian post), and I have linked to where you can buy it. I do not know of any other book that covers the building of the Temple in such detail beyond Evans' one (also cited), though pay attention to this upcoming book, too (stays with cedar, but more with ships).

 

Email them to go on the mailing pre-order list.

[Kveldssanger]

16/10/16. #208.

 

I just posted another one of these over on my blog. It's over 7,000 words, and took two hours just to edit, so please accept my apologies for asking you to view it over on my blog rather than sorting it all out here, too!

 

URL: https://arboriculture.wordpress.com/2016/10/16/trees-and-religion-paganism/

[Kveldssanger]

25/10/16. #209.

 

As elucidated to previously (in the section on Christianity) in brief with regards to the goddess Asherah and the Canaanites, other cultures of the geographical region (encompassing the Levant, and the surrounding areas) that spawned the more contemporary religions that are Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, also had their associations with trees – associations that were much more direct, in terms of reverence.

 

For example, in the polytheistic Mesopotamian religions that spanned the Akkadian, Assyrian, and Babylonian empires, the goddess Ishtar, who was the goddess of fertility, was sometimes depicted alongside a sacred tree (Stuckey, 2002; Weinfeld, 1996). Inanna, the goddess of fertility in the earlier Sumerian empire, was also sometimes depicted alongside a sacred tree (Orrelle & Horwitz, 2016). This sacred tree was, in certain instances, palm-like (Stuckey, 2002; Orrelle & Horwitz, 2016). Perhaps, though by no means conclusively, like in the later monotheistic religions, Giovino (2007) writes, on the back of previous research, that this was the date palm (Phoenix dactylifera). This is supported by Altman (2000), with regards to the Assyrian cosmic tree being the date palm. The sacred tree of the Mesopotamian religions would also, in some instances, bear the fruit of the pomegranate (Punica granatum) (Parpola, 1993), as would it sometimes be used, by the Assyrians, to depict the generational family tree of their Gods (ranging from the upper tier of Aššur and Anu, to the middle and lower tiers of gods including Ishtar, Marduk, and Nergal). For the Babylonians, the Tree of Truth (synonymous with the Tree of Knowledge) and Tree of Life were also said to guard the eastern gate of the heavens (Altman, 2000).

 

The Assyrian Tree of Life. Source: Samizdat.

 

With reference to the cosmic tree (axis mundi) of the region’s religions, one can identify the outskirts of the city of Eridu, near to the delta of the Euphrates River, being host to the sacred tree of the Babylonians. As will be detailed later for other religions and their sacred trees, the river plays an important role in the location of the sacred tree, as the abyssal waters here were host to Ea (the god of life), and from this water did the earth become fertilised with life (Altman, 2000). In this sense, not only is the cosmic tree imbued with divine life, but from the roots of the this tree does all life obtain its support.

 

This cosmic tree also was the residence of the Babylonian’s primal mother goddess. For the earlier Sumerians, the cosmic tree, known as the huluppu (according to some sources this was a weeping willow – perhaps Salix babylonica), connected the underworld (Ereshkigal), the mortal realm (Enlil), and the heavenly realm (An), and was subsequently a symbol of life and renewal amongst the priest class (Altman, 2000; Kramer, 1972). Similarly, the tree was found on the banks of the Euphrates River, until being taken by Inanna to the city of Erech and planted in her garden. Here, Inanna hoped that it would grow tall so she could construct a throne from it, but it did not yield any new growth and it thus stood dead up until its demise at the hands of Gilgamesh and other inhabitants of the city (Kramer, 2010). After being felled, its timber was used to create an array of material goods.

 

Small statues of Asherah, the goddess of fertility in other ancient Semitic religions (as previously ascertained), have also been found in relative abundance, within the region. These statues, complete with upper body features including breasts and a head, are adjoined to a lower body that resembles a tree trunk (von Feldt, 2014). In the Ugaritic religion, there are similar depictions of deities and trees, with some artefacts showing trees emanating from the pubic region (or region between the navel and pubic area) of goddesses (including Athirat – known as Asherah, in later times), signifying again a divine association or similarity (in the conceptual sense) between trees and the mother goddess (Hadley, 2000; Sugimoto, 2012; Stuckey, 2002; Orrelle & Horwitz, 2016; Vidal, 2004; von Feldt, 2014).

 

The https://www.blackgate.com/2014/11/11/ancient-worlds-killing-humbaba/, which was a prominent and lengthy poem of the cultures and religions of the Ancient Mesopotamian world, provides further reference to trees within the Mesopotamian region and its respective religions. In this poem, which does vary somewhat between the different Mesopotamian cultures (notably with regards to how Gilgamesh intends to establish his name in history and achieve immortality, after reaching the sacred forest), Gilgamesh and Enkidu task themselves with slaying Humbaba, the guardian of the near boundless primeval sacred cedar (Cedrus libani) forest as divinely appointed by Enlil (and where the gods and goddesses did reside – notably the goddess Ishtar), after Humbaba became enraged at the pair when Gilgamesh and Enkidu attempted to fell the sacred cedar that Humbaba embodied – in addition to other cedars within the forest (Cusack, 2011; Heidel, 1949; Lechler, 1937; Tigay, 1982). Humbaba exclaimed, in particular, that the sacred cedars were being desecrated and murdered by the pair (Kovacs, 1985; Shaffer, 1983).

 

Throughout the pair’s travel to the forest, and within it, the solar deity Shamash (Utu) aids them – albeit not initially – by appearing to Gilgamesh in his dreams (which Enkidu interprets), after Gilgamesh prays to Shamash every day for safe travels (which are granted) (Bilić, 2007; George, 2003; Harrison, 1992). Following the successful slaying of Humbaba (again made possible by Shamash), Gilgamesh and Enkidu proceeded to fell the cedars en masse, and use the timber for construction purposes within the largely treeless Mesopotamian region, including for the main door for the Temple of Enlil in Nippur (Harrison, 1992; Kovacs, 1985). Enlil was reportedly enraged by this act of killing Humbaba and felling the cedars, at least in the Sumerian version, and thus condemned Enkidu for the remainder of his life (Tigay, 1982).

 

The pair take battle with Humbaba. Source: Black Gate.

 

Whether or not the cedars themselves are any sort of main aspect of the Epic of Gilgamesh is questionable, though at the very least one can ascertain that the cedar forest was associated strongly with the gods, both because that was their home, and the fact that Enlil appointed a guardian to protect the cedar forest from the haunts of man. This guardian, according to Shaffer (1983), may have even potentially obtained its power from the cedars. Furthermore, the Old Babylonian Akkadian stone fragment of the tale cites the felling of the cedars as equating to that of murder, which suggests that the cedars were held in high regard. Such a high value of the cedar of Lebanon certainly extended to other religions of the world, as noted in earlier sections of this series.

 

References

 

Altman, N. (2000) Sacred Trees: Spirituality, Wisdom & Well-Being. USA: Sterling Publishing.

 

Bilić, T. (2007) A Note on the Celestial Orientation: Was Gilgamesh Guided to the Cedar Forest by the Pleiades?. The Journal of the Archaeological Museum in Zagreb. 40 (1). p11-14.

 

Cusack, C. (2011) The Sacred Tree: Ancient and Medieval Manifestations. UK: Cambridge Scholars Publishing.

 

George, A. (2003) The Babylonian Gilgamesh Epic: Introduction, Critical Edition and Cuneiform Texts – Volume II. USA: Oxford University Press.

 

Giovino, M. (2007) The Assyrian Sacred Tree: A History of Interpretations. Switzerland: Academic Press.

 

Hadley, J. (2000) The Cult of Asherah in Ancient Israel and Judah: Evidence for a Hebrew Goddess. UK: Cambridge University Press.

 

Harrison, R. (1992) Forests: The Shadow of Civilization. USA: The University of Chicago Press.

 

Heidel, A. (1949) The Gilgamesh Epic and Old Testament Parallels. 2nd ed. USA: The University of Chicago Press.

 

Kovacs, M. (1985) The Epic of Gilgamesh. USA: Stanford University Press.

 

Kramer, S. (1972) Sumerian Mythology: A Study of Spiritual and Literary Achievement in the Third Millennium B.C.. USA: University of Pennsylvania Press.

 

Kramer, S. (2010) The Sumerians: Their History, Culture, and Character. USA: The University of Chicago Press.

 

Lechler, G. (1937) The tree of life in Indo-European and Islamic cultures. Ars Islamica. 4 (1). p369-419.

 

Orrelle, E. & Horwitz, L. (2016) The pre-iconography, iconography and iconology of a sixth to fifth millennium BC Near Eastern incised bone. Time and Mind. 9 (1). p3-42.

 

Parpola, S. (1993) The Assyrian Tree of Life: Tracing the Origins of Jewish Monotheism and Greek Philosophy. Journal of Near Eastern Studies. 52 (3). p161-208.

 

Shaffer, A. (1983) Gilgamesh, the Cedar Forest and Mesopotamian History. Journal of the American Oriental Society. 103 (1). p307-313.

 

Stuckey, J. (2002) The great goddesses of the Levant. Bulletin of the Canadian Society for Mesopotamian Studies. 37 (1). p27-48.

 

Sugimoto, D. (2012) “Tree of Life” Decoration on Iron Age Pottery from the Southern Levant. Orient. 47 (1). p125-146.

 

Tigay, J. (1982) The Evolution of the Gilgamesh Epic. USA: University of Pennsylvania Press.

 

Vidal, J. (2004) The Sacred Landscape of the Kingdom Of Ugarit. Journal of Ancient Near Eastern Religions. 4 (1). p143-153.

 

von Feldt, A. (2014) Does God Have a Wife?. The FARMS Review. 19 (1). p81-118.

 

Weinfeld, M. (1996) Feminine features in the imagery of God in Israel: the sacred marriage and the sacred tree. Vetus Testamentum. 46 (1). p515-529.

[Kveldssanger]

5/11/16. #210. Trees and Hinduism.

 

Hinduism, which also arose from the ancient Vedic religion, also placed marked value upon trees (and plants, in general). With regards to the philosophical outlook on plant life, in contrast with Buddhism, there is a clearer and prevailing view of plants being taken into moral consideration. Granted, it must be stressed, prior to further explanation, that Hinduism itself has at least six different offshoots that have distinct differences between one another, and therefore it is the core texts that are generally referred to (Hall, 2011). This clearer view on plant life is because Hinduism generally considers all beings as being connected via Brahman, and as a consequence plants possess consciousness and are therefore sentient (Framarin, 2014b), and trees are even self aware according to the Yogavasistha (Hall, 2011). Consequently, plants are part of the cycle of death and rebirth, known as samsara. Whether this is sentience in the human sense, or simply because plants are alive, is however questioned by in another text by Framarin (2014a). However, one can observe how trees, in particular, were considered to be able to experience happiness and sorrow, as detailed in the ancient Puranas (Dwivedi, 1990).

 

Regardless of exact outlook, the fact that Hinduism recognises plants as at least living beings has implications towards their attitude towards plants, which is one of non-violence. Despite this, in the case of whether a plant must be sacrificed to save a human, it is considered that humans have greater moral standing, by virtue of their heightened sentience and their mobility (Hall, 2011). This outlook may however only be more recent, as more historic Hindu texts suggest that all life is of equal sanctity and must be safeguarded (unless there is adequate justification to do otherwise), because only God has dominion over all life (Dwivedi, 1990). In light of the aforementioned, it is of little surprise that conservation issues are becoming more pertinent within Hindu cultures, and particularly within the middle-upper class societies that can afford to care (Tomalin, 2004).

 

The medicinal deity Dhanvantari is associated with the neem tree. Source: Wikimedia Commons.

 

With specific reference to trees, it is not surprising that it is the religiously- and economically- important trees that are most actively associated with the religion and culture. To begin, it is however necessary to recognise that Hindus consider all trees to have a tree deity, which can be worshipped and provided with offerings including water and sacred threads. These tree deities do lead trees to adopt a position of significant religious importance (Dwivedi, 1990), though nonetheless, some trees will hold particularly acute religious importance; and notably those that have direct associations with principal deities. For example, Shitala (the goddess of poxes) is considered to reside within a neem tree (Azadirachta indica) – perhaps because neem has been used to treat an array of poxes and other illnesses for many centuries (Edwardes, 1922; Norten & Pütz, 2000) – and as a result the neem tree is considered sacred (Hall, 2011). The medicinal god Dhanvantari also has associations with the tree. In fact, the neem may even be of divine origin, as the Hindu demigod Garuda was thought to have spilled a few drops of the elixir of immortality onto the tree, on his way to Heaven with the elixir (Puri, 1999). Neem leaves may also be used to ward off evil spirits, immediately after childbirth (Edwardes, 1922).

 

Leaves of the neem tree are used for their medicinal value. Source: Wikimedia Commons.

 

The goddess of fortune and prosperity, Lakshmi, is also found to reside within a tree – the sacred fig, or pipal (Ficus religiosa) (Hall, 2011). In fact, the three principal gods in Hinduism, Brahma, Shiva, and Vishu, all have associations with the pipal, and is subsequently worshipped every Saturday during the fifth Hindu month of Shraavana (de Cleene & Lejeune, 1999; Edwardes, 1922), and perhaps even every morning throughout the year (Chandrakanth & Romm, 1991). The gular (Ficus racemosa) also has associations to all three of these gods: the roots Brahma, the bark Vishnu, and the branches Shiva (Krishna & Amirthalingam, 2009). Vishu is also associated with the banyan (Ficus benghalensis) and sometimes wholly portrayed as the gular (Ficus racemosa) (Chandrakanth & Romm, 1991), whilst Shiva has associations with the bel (Aegle marmelos), where leaves are used to worship Shiva, in order to gain redemption from a sinful act (Jagetia et al., 2005; Niroula & Singh, 2015), and also maulsari (Mimusops elengi).

 

Rudra, who pre-dated Shiva and was a storm god, and who is now seen as perhaps interchangeable with Shiva, is also linked with the rudraksha tree (Elaeocarpus ganitrus). For this reason, those who worship Shiva will often adorn themselves with rosaries made with seeds of the rudraksha tree, during meditation (Chandrakanth & Romm, 1991; Garg et al., 2013; Naresh et al., 2013). Temples dedicated to Shiva will also be surrounded by five species of sacred tree, as detailed in the Puranas: the amala (Phyllanthus emblica), banyan (Ficus benghalensis), bel (Aegle marmelos), neem (Azadirachta indica), and pipal (Ficus religiosa) (Haberman, 2013). The avatar Dattatreya, who is considered to comprise all three gods Brahma, Shiva, and Vishu, is associated with the gular (Ficus racemosa), and this is not surprising as all three deities, individually, have links with this tree (Chandrakanth & Romm, 1991).

 

A Hindu woman worshipping the pipal (peepal) tree. Source: Hindutva.

 

Krishna, another important Hindu deity, has many associations with the kadam (Neolamarckia cadamba), and was, for example, understood to have greatly enjoyed its presence (Haberman, 2013). It is also a tree that Krisha grew up around, and into where he climbed after stealing the clothes of some very beautiful cowherd girls (Krishna & Amirthalingam, 2009). The banyan (Ficus benghalensis) was also said to have been linked to Krishna, by virtue of the fact it was the tree that was said to have saved his life during the world flood (Altman, 2000). Such aforementioned trees may also themselves be worshipped, for the god(s) that they represent (as the gods, according to the Puranas, could adopt the form of a tree), and this would be the case in particular when in rural and forested areas of India. In these instances, the trees may even have been caged, so to protect them from damage (Haberman, 2013).

 

Persisting with the religious aspects of trees within Hinduism, one can also observe how the planting of trees – particularly groves – is a highly important act worthy of marked religious merit (Coward, 2003; Edwardes, 1922; Haberman, 2013). At times, these groves may be planted in patterns that accord to the cosmic alignment of the stars, planets, and the Zodiac, as understood in Hinduism; as may temple forests, which frequent the Indian landscape serve multiple spiritual and religious purposes (Chandrakanth & Romm, 1991; Chandrakanth et al., 1990). These groves may also be more simple plantations, as is the case in eastern Kumaun, where the deodar cedar (Cedrus deodara) has been abundantly planted beyond its natural range (Guha, 2000). Established groves within forests, such those of mangrove (Rhiziophora spp.) in Bangladesh, are also a site for prayer once per year, for Hindus of the lower castes (Khan et al., 2008). Where these sacred groves have been assumed from pre-dating cultures, unlike with Christianity, and to a slightly lesser degree Islam, their spiritual importance is conserved and the groves remain as places of worship (Ormsby & Bhagwat, 2010).

 

Trees may also be formally married to one another, in some instances. In fact, the creation of groves and the marriage of the trees within the groves to one another (some years later) is considered a particularly important custom within the Hindu religion, and cases of individual mango trees (Mangifera indica) being married to individual tamarind trees (Tamarindus indica) are documented (Edwardes, 1922). Neem (Azadirachta indica) and pipal (Ficus religiosa) trees may also be planted so close together that they essentially grow ‘as one’. This ‘marriage’ of the two tree species is considered to represent the bonding of male (pipal) and female (neem), and if the unified trees are circumambulated after bath in the morning then they are said to cure sterility (Chandrakanth et al., 1990; Haberman, 2013). In some cases, these marriage ceremonies are incredibly grand (and thus expensive), such as when a neem and pipal tree were married in the Indian town of Palakkad – the neem was four years younger than the pipal, and was adorned with traditional wedding items. In this case, a Hindu priest was employed to undertake the ceremony, whilst an astrologer was employed to select the correct (appropriate) date (Haberman, 2013).

 

A pipal and neem tree that have been married to one another. Source: In India.

 

A variety of tree species have also historically been worshipped by individual tribes of the Hindu religion, across India. Specific tribes will attribute a specific group of tree species to their ancestry, including the banyan (Ficus benghalensis), kadam (Neolamarckia cadamba), mango (Mangifera indica), and shami (Prosopis cineraria), and the marriage of individual tribe members to those of different tribes can only occur if the two tribes do not share ancestral tree species (Edwardes, 1922). The trees sacred to the tribes will also usually not be cut down or damaged, and instead revered and protected.

 

The theme of trees and marriage in fact extends even further, when it can occur between a man (or woman) and a particular tree (of the opposite gender) (Haberman, 2013). This is usually a practice that occurs after an individual has been married twice already, as a third marriage is seen as inauspicious (and is also illegal in the Punjab). Therefore, instead of marrying a human for the third time, a Punjabi individual is married to a babel tree (Vachellia nilotica), and afterwards married to another human (for the fourth marriage). In the city of Chennai, a similar custom can be observed, and instead an individual is married to a serut tree (Streblus asper), that is then unfortunately felled, paving the way for a fourth marriage (Edwardes, 1922; Haberman, 2013).

 

Hindu brides may also, prior to marriage, assuming they were born under “inauspicious planets”, be married to a tree (which rids her of any ill-omens that may harm her husband), and then to the groom. Conversely, if a groom is found to have been born under very well-aligned planets, the marriage between him and his bride is sometimes compared to the bride marrying a fig tree (Ficus religiosa). The general idea behind why this marriage between a woman and a tree occurs may be, again according to Edwardes (1922), to “avert the curse of widowhood”, because the tree (groom) is always alive (hopefully!). It may also be to pass-off any bad luck onto the tree, which is, of course, not necessarily that good for the tree! On a more philosophical level, it also keeps alive man’s kinship with nature, which is important within Hinduism (Haberman, 2013). Hindu women, each year, will also fast and worship both the goddess Savitri and the banyan tree (Ficus benghalensis), in order to ensure their husband and sons have long and married lives (Wadley, 1980).

 

This pipal tree was married to a woman, and has been suitably ‘dressed’ for the occasion. Source: Homegrown.

 

On a more cultural level, numerous traditions can be observed with regards to the consumption or utilisation of certain trees, in accordance with particular calendar months. For example, in West Bengal, certain Hindu tribes do not consume fruits of the genus Zizyphus until after January’s full moon, nor do they eat mango (Mangifera indica) until after the Baruni ceremony in late March, or the fruits of the drumstick tree (Moringa oleifera) until after the Charak festival in April. Other tribes refrain from harvesting the sal (Shorea robusta) until after the Salui festival in March to April, and the fruits of the karam (Haldina cordifolia) until after the Karam festival in August to September (Deb & Malhotra, 2001). It is most likely that these harvesting limitations are due to economic reasons, so that the trees are not adversely impacted prior to the time in which they provide the most value. Within other Hindu rituals and customs, there is also the overt declaration that trees that have been struck by lightning, display dieback in the periphery of the crown, contain many bird nests, or grow upon a sacred site, are unfit for use in the timber trade to make bedsteads, as they are wholly certain to bring ill health – and possibly death – to an individual (Edwardes, 1922).

 

On a symbolic level, within the Bhagavad Gita, which is a Hindu text, the upside-down tree mentioned by Krishna also has importance within the religion (Arapura, 1975). This tree’s roots are up in the skies, whilst its foliage is down upon the earth, and this is said to symbolise man’s origins (or roots) from divinity and consciousness (de Cleene & Lejeune, 1999). The suspended roots displays these origins of man, whilst the branches upon the earth detail the workings of the mind, which is vastly complex in composition and function. The leaves, which are attached to the branches, symbolise emotions and thoughts that man will experience, and their temporary nature, as these leaves are eventually shed and re-grown. However, these leaves also need the water and nutrients from the roots, which connects man back to divinity and consciousness (the roots in the sky – the spiritual world), from where the mind should be based and build from, in spite of the temptation to base conscious existence upon emotion and the material world (the leaves) (Prabhupada, 1989).

 

References

 

Altman, N. (2000) Sacred Trees: Spirituality, Wisdom & Well-Being. USA: Sterling Publishing.

 

Arapura, J. (1975) The Upside down Tree of the Bhagavadgītā Ch. XV: An Exegesis. Numen. 22 (2). p131-144.

 

Chandrakanth, M., Gilless, J., Gowramma, V., & Nagaraja, M. (1990) Temple forests in India’s forest development. Agroforestry Systems. 11 (3). p199-211.

 

Chandrakanth, M. & Romm, J. (1991) Sacred forests, secular forest policies and people’s actions. Natural Resources Journal. 31. p741-756.

 

Coward, H. (2003) Hindu Views of Nature and the Environment. In Selin, H. (ed.) Nature Across Cultures: Views of Nature and the Environment in Non-Western Cultures. The Netherlands: Springer.

 

de Cleene, M. & Lejeune, M. (1999) Compendium of Symbolic and Ritual Plants in Europe – Volume I: Trees & Shrubs. Belgium: Mens & Cultuur.

 

Deb, D., & Malhotra, K. (2001) Conservation ethos in local traditions: the West Bengal heritage. Society & Natural Resources. 14 (8). p711-724.

 

Dwivedi, O. (1990) Satyagraha for conservation: Awakening the spirit of Hinduism. In Engel, J. & Engel, J. (eds.) Ethics of Environment and Development: Global Challenge, International Response. USA: University of Arizona Press.

 

Edwardes, S. (1922) Tree-Worship in India. Empire Forestry Journal. 1 (1). p78-86.

 

Framarin, C. (2014a) Ātman, Identity, and Emanation: Arguments for a Hindu Environmental Ethic. In Callicott, J. & McRae, J. (eds.) Environmental Philosophy in Asian Traditions of Thought. USA: State University of New York Press.

 

Framarin, C. (2014b) Hinduism and Environmental Ethics: Law, Literature, and Philosophy. UK: Routledge.

 

Guha, R. (2000) The Unquiet Woods: Ecological Change and Peasant Resistance in the Himalaya. USA: Oxford University Press.

 

Haberman, D. (2013) People Trees: Worship of Trees in Northern India. USA: Oxford University Press.

 

Hall, M. (2011) Plants as Persons: A Philosophical Botany. USA: Suny Press.

 

Jagetia, G., Venkatesh, P., & Baliga, M. (2005) Aegle marmelos (L.) Correa inhibits the proliferation of transplanted Ehrlich ascites carcinoma in mice. Biological and Pharmaceutical Bulletin. 28 (1). p58-64.

 

Khan, M., Khumbongmayum, A., & Tripathi, R. (2008) The sacred groves and their significance in conserving biodiversity an overview. International Journal of Ecology and Environmental Sciences. 34 (3). p277-291.

 

Krishna, N. & Amirthalingam, M. (2009) Sacred Plants of India. India: Penguin Books.

 

Naresh, K., Mukesh, D., & Vivek, A. (2013) Rudrakha: A Review on Mythological, Spiritual and Medicinal Importance. Global Journal of Research on Medicinal Plants & Indigenous Medicine. 2 (1). p65-72.

 

Niroula, G. & Singh, N. (2015) Religion and Conservation: A Review of Use and Protection of Sacred Plants and Animals in Nepal. Journal of Institute of Science and Technology. 20 (2). p61-66.

 

Norten, E. & Pütz, J. (2000) Neem: India’s Miraculous Healing Plant. Canada: Healing Arts Press.

 

Ormsby, A. & Bhagwat, S. (2010) Sacred forests of India: a strong tradition of community-based natural resource management. Environmental Conservation. 37 (3). p320-326.

 

Prabhupada, A. (1989) Bhagavad-Gita as it is. USA: Bhaktivendata Book Trust International.

 

Puri, H. (1999) Neem: The Divine Tree Azadirachta indica. The Netherlands: Harwood Academic Publishers.

 

Tomalin, E. (2004) Bio-divinity and biodiversity: Perspectives on religion and environmental conservation in India. Numen. 51 (3). p265-295.

 

Wadley, S. (1980) Hindu women’s family and household rites in a North Indian village. In Falk, N. & Gross, R. (eds.) Unspoken Worlds: women’s religious lives in non-western cultures. USA: Harper and Row.

[Kveldssanger]

20/11/16. #211.

 

So this is a very quick one but I wanted to share it as it's actually really cool. As I am reading through Fungal Decomposition of Wood, on page 149 the authors detail that Ganoderma lucidum produces two types of spore from its basidia during its reproductive phase (where a fruiting body is present). Specifically, when the fruit body is young, thin-walled basidia are produced that germinate very readily on any suitable wood substrate that they may land upon (which is a slim chance anyway), though as the fruit body ages the type of spore differs to become much thicker-walled and - if it is to have any decent chance of germinating if it were to land on a suitable substrate - must first pass through the gut of fly larvae.

 

Of course, this differentiation in spore type (by where the former spore type is dubbed a 'proterospore') has implications for effective dispersal. The former thin-walled proterospores are to have a principal means of effective dispersion via air currents, and may indeed be released during the summer months when it is drier and therefore wind dispersal is more effective (assuming we apply a crude phenology to Ganoderma lucidum, and posit that a hymenium is produced and releases spores by summer time - late June through to late August). However, the thicker-walled spores produced in later stages of the fruiting body's life (being an annual bracket, it will senesce come late autumn, generally-speaking) would require either larval tunneling through the mature fruiting body and consuming spores along the way (which they then deposit elsewhere on possibly suitable wood substrates) or by larvae consuming spores where the spores were deposited by the air currents / other means. Larval tunneling could also take place after the bracket's senescence, when some spores will still probably be 'trapped' within the tubes.

 

Three Ganoderma lucidum sporophores growing out from ever-so-slightly buried wood of Carpinus betulus. This old stump supported a good many more sporophores of this species.

 

If we are to accept that mature and active fruiting bodies are more likely to be host to tunneling insects, by virtue of: (1) the fruiting bodies being often sufficiently larger in size to allow for effective tunneling in a sheltered environment not at much risk of suddenly being aborted by the 'parent' mycelium and (2) because they have been in the environment for a longer period of time (thereby overlapping with ovipositioning of more insect species and generations), the second type of spore production actually makes logical sense. Furthermore, climatically-speaking, rain usually becomes ever more frequent as we approach late summer to early-mid autumn (when the Ganodermas are often still very much active, and the annual brackets of Ganoderma lucidum and Ganoderma resinaceum are certainly fully mature), and therefore wind dispersal perhaps becomes ever more challenging for polypores that depend upon dry conditions in which they can release spores. In fact, and again it's only my hypothesis, but as rain can drive spores onto and into the ground (as they are caught up in rain droplets, etc), the dispersal of these thick-walled spores might also provide them with the chance to be consumed by soil-dwelling insect larvae or ones that forage close to the ground, in place of upon fungal fruiting bodies. When we note that Ganoderma lucidum can also fruit out from underneath the ground, it gives this theory time for a little more consideration. Thus, the potential scope of insect consumers increases quite extensively.

 

The caveat here is, as is most certainly evident, a lot of my own thoughts have expanded upon the initial statement in Fungal Decomposition of Wood. As this book was written almost three decades ago and the research into Ganoderma lucidum spores was first published in 1982 by Nuss, there may have been developments since then that further explain this biological characteristic. At the very least however, this demonstrates that a spore is not just a spore, and that the mycological world is admirably complex.

 

Another series of Ganoderma lucidum upon the same Carpinus betulus stump, in the UK. This image was taken on 9th September 2016, as was the first image.

 

Sources:

 

Nuss, I. (1982) Die Bedeutung der Proterosporen: Schlußfolgerungen aus Untersuchungen an Ganoderma (Basidiomycetes). Plant Systematics and Evolution. 141 (1). p53-79.

 

Rayner, A. & Boddy, L. (1988) Fungal Decomposition of Wood: It's Ecology and Biology. UK: John Wiley & Sons.

[David Humphries]

Very interesting interpretation Chris.

 

It's not my unqualified place to question the observations of the establishment, (no matter how old those observations are) but with most of these things I continue to find that there are always variables to that which is written in text. Boxing species into annual, perennial, early or late maturity doesn't really allow for flexibility of the needs of a fungal species depending on its environment.

 

This 'annual' specimen obviously found the need to put on another sporocarp later in the year, (or dare I say perhaps the following year) to produce more spore.

 

Fung huh, complex for sure

 

.

[Kveldssanger]

Totally agree on the very closed system we place fungi into. As I said the other day about something slightly similar (think it was to do with fungi), the species are incredibly fluid (not conforming to specific qualifications we place on them all of the time) and there are so many variables in place that it's almost pointless trying to conclude anything concrete; at least, at this moment in time where knowledge is really still a little sparse in many aspects of mycology. In a way, that's what I enjoy about learning about fungi - there is scope to really imagine, and hopefully one day I have the chance to test some of my ideas in the lab or out in the field (which may well come with experience and time).

 

I am really liking that additional growth on that reishi. It'd be absolutely fascinating to be able to monitor all of the chemical signalling going on inside its mycelial network and relate the signals back to both environmental attributes (humidity, temperature, etc) and also to neighbouring and competing fungi that would be having a direct influence on this reishi. Ascertaining whether genes switch on and off at and during fruiting would also be an enlightening investigation, and would relay back to chemical signalling as well.

 

You may find this talk interesting, which I have just finished watching. It's Lynne Boddy, so of course it's going to be good.

 

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[/ame] Edited November 20, 2016 by Kveldssanger