In elementary school classrooms and psychologists offices, we were often asked to draw a tree not to judge our artistic merit but rather analyze our emotional landscape. A tree with thick branches and flowering leaves signals that all is well. In contrast, a skinny, bare-boned weepy rendition suggests our psychic health is under attack.
Trees and their relationship to the human condition date back to rabbinic thought. A tree symbolized the first moral dilemma, when Adam and Eve ate of the Tree of Knowledge. In another midrash, Honi the Circle Maker fell asleep for 70 years only to discover that a carob tree outlives the planter. Damaged saplings (like children) will have a tough time reaching their full potential. Strong trees ascend to the heavens. And the Torah itself is the Tree of Life to which we cling.
Tu bShevat, which falls on the 15th of Shevat Wednesday, Feb. 8 on the secular calendar is the New Year for Trees. In recent decades, Jews have connected the holiday to the state of the environment. We applaud this. And while we do not recommend that people go around the room asking What kind of tree are you? a la Barbara Walters, we choose to focus on the inner meaning of the holiday.
Lets face it. In the Jewish scheme of things, there are many objects and experiences we could honor with a major observance the stars, the sun, children, spouses, etc. But Jews celebrate a New Year for trees.
Perhaps thats because the trees we pass by every day represent our spiritual goals: strength, rootedness, connectivity, a source of sanctuary to others, the hope for continued personal growth.
Like Honi the Circle Maker, we will not outlive the spiritual trees we plant. But we trust the effort is sufficient to the task. May we spread wide our arms to those in need, and give comforting shade and sunlight to family, friends and strangers alike.
This Tu bShevat, take a minute to see yourself in the tree, and the tree in you. That is the mystery, and majesty, of this holiday.
Copyright © 2012 by the Intermountain Jewish News
