Blessing Trees in Winter: a Reflection on Wassailing and Tu B'Shvat

“The apple in your hand is the body of the Cosmos.” 

Thich Nhat Hanh

Both the Jewish festival of Tu B'Shvat and the English custom of Wassailing involve blessing fruit trees in winter, with singing and feasting. In Hebrew, tu means fifteen and Shevat is a month that falls in late winter, as the season shifts toward spring and the tree sap begins to rise, in the land of Israel. 15 Shevat marked the New Year of the Trees, which has its origins in the injunction in Leviticus to give a tithe of the fourth year fruit crop. In Israel today, Tu B'Shvat is a national holiday, celebrated as the joyful birthday of trees. Everyone, including young children, help plant seeds and saplings, sing songs, and eat birthday cake.

Wassailing, or blessing of the fruit trees, is a Twelfth Night custom that dates back to at least pagan Anglo-Saxon times, and involves singing and drinking to the health of the trees in the hope that they will provide a bountiful harvest in the autumn. 

“When you enter the land and plant any tree for food, you shall regard its fruit as forbidden. Three years it shall be forbidden for you, not to be eaten. In the fourth year all its fruit shall be set aside for jubilation before the Lord, and only in the fifth year may you use its fruit – that its yield to you may be increased: I the Lord am your God.” Leviticus 19:23 – 25 

This law raised the question of how farmers were to mark the “birthday” of a tree. The Rabbis therefore established the 15th of the month of Shevat as a general “birthday” for all trees, regardless of when they were actually planted. 

The Kabbalists created a Tu B'Shvat seder (communal meal), including glasses of wine and specific fruits eaten while meditating on biblical verses. Consuming fruits on this day with the right kavanah (intention) was believed to release the divine sparks in the fruit, and bring the world into greater harmony. 

Many Jewish communities hold a Tu B'Shvat seder today, eating olives, dates, grapes, figs and pomegranates – all the fruits which are mentioned in Deuteronomy as being the fruits of the Promised Land, 

“For Adonai your God is bringing you into a good land. A land of brooks of water, of fountains and depths springing forth in valleys and hills, a land of wheat and barley and vines and fig trees and pomegranates, a land of olive trees and honey, a land wherein you shall eat without scarceness, you shall not lack anything in it... And you shall eat and be satisfied, and bless God for the good land, which is being given unto you.” Deuteronomy 8: 7 – 10 

All of these fruits have a symbolic significance. Fruits with protective shells, such as pomegranates, are associated with Olam Ha'Asiyah – the world of action – winter, the earth, and the invitation to meditate on our own layers of protection. Fruits with stones, such as olives, are associated with Olam HaYetzirah – the world of formation – spring, water, and the invitation to meditate on our own hardness of heart and need to protect what makes us vulnerable. Soft fruits, such as figs, are associated with Olam HaBriyah – the world of creation, and the invitation to meditate on relinquishing our own shell and stone in our deepest relationships. Bread and wine are associated with Olam Ha'atzilut – the world of essence or spirit – autumn, fire and the invitation to meditate on our awareness of God's love, mercy and wisdom, perceived with our hearts rather than our senses.

Rabbi Rachel Barenblat writes, “The Four Worlds (Action, Emotion, Thought and Spirit) are nested inside each of the others. We live in all four realms at once. Sometimes we have hard shells, like the nuts of assiyah. Sometimes we have a rock inside us, like the stone fruits of yetziraah. Sometimes we are soft all the way through, like the fruits of briyah. And sometimes we are so connected with the Holy One of Blessing that we melt beyond our bodies altogether, living in atzilut. May we find blessing in each of these four ways of being, each of these four seasons, each of these four worlds.”

The seder meal concludes with a blessing of the trees, such as this one by Kohenet Carly Lesser, 

“Blessings to the renewal of all living things. Blessings to the trees that provide us with clean air, shelter, food, and resources to live. Here's to the dawning of spring and resurgence of life. Blessed be the earth.”

As well as the seder meal, it is customary in Israel to plant trees on this festival, for the benefit of future generations, as illustrated in this story from Siddur Lev Chadash, the Liberal Jewish prayerbook, 

“Once, when the Roman emperor Hadrian was walking alone one of the paths that lead to Tiberius, he saw an old man digging trenches to plant saplings of fig-trees. 

'How old are you?' the emperor asked him, and he answered, 'A hundred years.' 

'You are a hundred years old,' said Hadrian, 'yet you are digging trenches to plant saplings of fig-trees! Do you ever hope to eat of them?'

Then the old man replied:

'If I am worthy I shall eat; but even if not – as my ancestors worked for my benefit, so I will work for the benefit of my children.'”

Wassailing or wishing the trees good health has been practised by many generations in rural communities in England, especially in cider-making counties, such as Kent, Somerset and Herefordshire. There were two types of wassail – the house-visiting wassail and the orchard-visiting wassail. The house-wassailing tradition has evolved into carolling, where groups of people go from door-to-door singing Christmas carols. The wassailers would toast the good health of the householders, in exchange for food and drink. In the words of We Wish You a Merry Christmas, there are traces of this custom, “now give us some figgy pudding”, “we won’t go until we’ve got some”. 

The Anglo-Saxon world was populated by many spirits, some benevolent and some malevolent. The idea of the orchard-visiting wassail was to appease the malevolent spirits and encourage the benevolent spirits to ensure a good harvest the following season. It was also, of course, a good excuse for a party, involving singing, dancing, and drinking.

In recent years, wassailing has grown in popularity and there are now wassailing events in many parts of the country. Wassailing usually involves a procession through an orchard, banging pots and pans to ward off the bad spirits and wake up the spirits of the fruit trees, thus encouraging them to produce a bountiful crop in the year ahead. Wassailing songs or chants are offered to the trees, such as this one,

“Here's to thee, old apple tree, that blooms well, bears well.

Hats full, caps full, three bushel bags full, an' all under one tree. Hurrah!”

The celebrations may include planting trees and other plants, eating baked apples, and drinking mulled cider, after offering a libation of cider to the trees, for their blessing on the party, of course! As well as being an opportunity for people to gather in community and get outdoors in the winter, wassailing is also an opportunity to reflect on our own place in the natural world, our dependence on the land for our sustenance, and our part in the cycles of nature. As we seek to awaken the spirits of the trees, perhaps we may reflect on what is stirring in our own hearts, as we look forward in hope and trust to the flowering of springtime. 

As we bless the trees and seek their blessings for the forthcoming harvest, perhaps we can remember to give thanks for all our blessings, not least of which are the wonderful trees themselves. I recently came across this quote from the Bhagavata Purana, an Indian sacred text, on the altruism of trees, 

“Have a look at these great blessed trees, who live only for the welfare of others, themselves facing the severity of stormy winds, heavy showers, heat and snow, all the while protecting us from them. The birth of trees is the most blessed in the world, as they contribute unreservedly to the well-being of all creatures. Just as no needy person ever returns disappointed from the house of a benevolent individual, similarly do these trees do for those who approach them for shelter. All of their many parts – leaves, flowers, fruits, shadow, roots, bark, wood and fragrance, are useful to others.. A tree does not withdraw its cooling shade even from the one who has come to cut it.”

As part of my daily morning body prayer I pray to emulate the altruism of trees, “This day, may I be like a tree – a shelter for all who come, growing towards the light, dancing in the wind, bearing good fruit, rooted in the earth and grounded in love. Amen.”

Wassailing is a small symbolic part of the annual cycle of caring for the trees, showing them love, so that they will bear good fruit. How might we show love and care for ourselves, for others, and for the earth, so that we may all continue to bear good fruit? How might we emulate the trees by protecting the vulnerable and offering shelter to those in need in these troubled times?

I leave you with some words from the Gospel of Philip, 

“Farming in the world requires the cooperation of four essential elements. A harvest is gathered into the barn only as a result of the natural action of water, earth, wind and light. God's farming likewise has four elements - faith, hope, love, and wisdom. Faith is our earth, that in which we take root. And hope is the water through which we are nourished. Love is the wind through which we grow. Wisdom, then, is the light through which we ripen.”

Waes Hael!

Following the Star of Truth and Love: A Reflection for Epiphany

 “Wise One, drop the reins and let the camel guide you. Follow the rising falling animal in your chest. To be wise, after all, is to be led across the wordless desert of prayer to the birthplace in the valley between breaths where the unspeakable holds silence in a tiny hand...”

I love these words that begin the poem Magi by Alfred Lamotte. As we begin the journey of another year, it is a good reminder for me to drop the reins and allow myself to be led. I long ago gave up making new year's resolutions. Now I set intentions instead – not as hard-edged as resolutions, but still it is good to be reminded to hold my plans loosely and be open to them changing, as the wise men did in the story from Matthew (2:12) “And being warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they departed to their own country by another way.”

The wise men, being guided by a star and a dream, pay attention to signs, synchronicities, and the workings of the subconscious. On a rather mundane note, in recent years I often dreamed about waking up to find my hair had been cut off, being very upset and feeling, like Samson, that my power had gone with my hair. My Nan used to say, “dreams mean the opposite,” and eventually I realised that the dream was inviting me to reclaim my power. I cut my hair and, far from being upset, I felt liberated.

Some times in life we can all feel that we have lost our way and that can be frightening. In the Sufi story of the stream, the desert, and the wind, the desert told the stream that it would have to become absorbed in the wind in order to journey across the desert, and the stream was afraid of losing its identity, but, arriving safely on the other side, it discovered its true identity. 

When we let go of the illusion of control, we can risk being changed. Sometimes we may need to allow ourselves to become lost to find another way. Jesus says twice in the Gospel of Matthew (Matthew 10:39; 16:25), “You must lose your life to find your life.” 

What is the life we lose and the life we find in the spiritual journey? The novelist Paulo Coelho wrote, “Maybe the journey isn't so much about becoming anything. Maybe it's about un-becoming everything that isn't really you so you can be who you were meant to be in the first place.”

Richard Rohr describes it thus, “The false self is the disconnected and autonomous self. It is your identity privately concocted by means of culture, education, class, race, family, gender identity, clothes, and money... The True Self is characterized by communion and deep contentment... participating in a Universal Being that is beyond yours... Now, that doesn’t mean you stay in the True Self 24- hours a day. Life is three steps forward and two steps backward. But once you know the big picture, you will never be satisfied with the little picture again.”

As I child I was taught to see time as a straight line – we are born, we grow up, we grow old, we die. Now I see it as a spiral – time moves on, but also round in the circle of the seasons each year, as the earth circles the sun. In life, we move forward, and we also keep circling back to the same things, keep repeating the same patterns. And, at the same time, each moment is new, every day we can look in the mirror and, as R S Thomas wrote in his poem Arrival, “see yourself as you are, a traveller … arrived after long journeying where he began, catching this one truth by surprise - that there is everything to look forward to.” 

Every day is a journey of self-discovery, to find the treasure inside that we can share to bless those around us. Shams Tabrizi, Rumi's mentor and spiritual guide, wrote, “Wherever you go, east, west, north or south, think of it as a journey into yourself. The one who travels into themselves travels the world.”

The real treasure is not what we hold in our hands, but what we hold in our hearts, not the material things we have, but the non-material gold, frankincense and myrrh: the memories we hold dear, the people we treasure, the way we live our truth and give our love. The greatest gift we can give others is to make the time and effort to let them love know how much they are loved and valued, the boy did for his teacher in our story, long walk part of gift, and the wise men did for Jesus when “they fell down and worshipped him.” (Matthew 2:11)

The most important journey we will ever make is into our own heart, to discover the shining light of divine love that lives there – the only star we need to follow – if we always follow that star, then we will always be at home, wherever we travel.

The poet Wendell Berry wrote, “And the world cannot be discovered by a journey of miles, no matter how long, but only by a spiritual journey, a journey of one inch, very arduous and humbling and joyful, by which we arrive at the ground at our feet, and learn to be at home.” Amen