If you journey to Fishlake National Forest in Utah, you’ll be surrounded by a high-elevation-behemoth. It’s one of the largest life forms on the planet: a quaking aspen so colossal it has a name—Pando, which is Latin for “I spread.” –Ari Danieal, NPR “Listen to one of the largest trees in the world” (May 10, 2023)

After recently returning from a family vacation to Glacier National Park in Montana, I find myself continuing to marvel at the root system of the Quaking Aspen. As we traveled up the Going to the Sun Road one morning, our tour guide and bus driver, Rick, offered a running narrative of park flora and fauna, historical facts and personal observations. It was his short lesson on the Quaking Aspen, however, that astonished me–so much so, that I’ve wondered how it is that I’ve never heard this before.

In central Utah in the Fishlake National Forest lies an aspen stand that originated from a single seed. This aspen “clone,” Pando, is considered the largest organism in the world, spreading over 106 acres of 40,000 individual trees. These aspens spread by sending up new shoots from an ever-expanding root system below. Not only is this the largest living organism, but it’s also likely the oldest. Although its exact age is difficult to determine, it’s estimated to have begun at the end of the last ice age, which makes the Quaking Aspen older than the Sequoia and the Bristlecone Pine. This is one old, tough tree, thanks to an amazing root system.

Even when conditions are hostile–fire, flood, wind, drought–the aspens persevere. Their root system thrives until conditions are favorable enough to once again send new shoots into the air. So, even when it appears that the aspens have been destroyed, they lie dormant below ground, waiting. This stand of aspens is so amazing that the U. S. Postal Service honored Pando as one the “40 Wonders of America” with a commemorative stamp in 2006.

We often talk about roots metaphorically:

• Give your children roots and wings.
• When the roots are deep, there’s no reason to fear the wind.
• Change your opinions, keep to your principles; change your leaves, keep intact your roots.
• It is because my roots are so strong that I can fly.

We say things like Stay rooted in the truth/in family/in goodness (you can fill in your virtue of choice here). When life’s conditions are particularly challenging, we often cling to the root system that’s sustained us, counting on the fact that it–like the Quaking Aspen–is alive, thriving underground and waiting patiently to send new shoots into the world. There’s much solace and strength to be found in such a root system. Even if there’s little evidence of its fruit in the world around us, we take heart in what can’t be seen. Yet.

Undoubtedly, there are those today who find their root systems lying in wait underground. Some may lament that more people aren’t rooted in family, or that more aren’t rooted in truth. Some may look at a world in conflict and deplore that we aren’t rooted in humility and grace. Some may regard the speed at which the world is changing and bemoan that we aren’t rooted enough in tradition. The list could certainly go on and on. And though many may argue that some of these root systems need to die out, that the fruit of their systems is no longer beneficial, others stand firm on the foundations of these systems, systems they contend are always beneficial if tended well.

Roots are the key ingredients in many proverbs and aphorisms. They work themselves naturally into song lyrics and find themselves graphically presented on posters. Perhaps, this may be why we often take them for granted. Perhaps, they’ve become cliched and too saccharine for our contemporary tastes. Perhaps, we’re too busy looking at what is seen to consider the realm of the unseen. And perhaps, we’re not patient enough to embrace a root system that’s waiting for favorable enough conditions to flourish.

The most serious challenge to a root system, however, is the fact that there are competing systems that infringe upon and, in some cases, destroy it. We live in such a world, a world with competing systems and truth claims. The firm foundation of one is an anathema to another. The root system of one is an abomination to another. You won’t find any posters or greeting cards that offer this reality. Still, it rears its head into our lives in many ways. It divides families, communities, and nations. It often leaves us wringing our hands, saying: How should we live?

People much wiser than me have always explored–and continue to explore–this question. And just as there are many competing root systems, there are many answers to a question of this magnitude. I think it’s safe to say, however, that the rallying cry of unity is troublesome. Logically speaking, to unify competing systems means one system must prevail. That is, one system must become THE system, and the other systems must accommodate themselves accordingly. Historically, people unify because they subscribe to a common set of principles and practices. They may come from different walks of life, different ethnicities, different ages and genders, but they come together in principle. When principles compete, however, unity struggles. When root systems differ radically, each contends for dominance. This is the way of things–in nature and human nature.

As miraculous as the Quaking Aspen root system is, we must acknowledge that its strength and longevity have come from its dominance, its ability to hang on, flourishing under and above ground as circumstances dictate. As social, political, religious, and philosophical root systems compete today, we might do well to look to the aspens for guidance. If we’re convicted that the root system to which we subscribe is good and true, if it’s the right root system for our time and all times, then we might need to be realistically prepared for periods of dormancy. American poet Theodore Roethke writes, “Deep in their roots, all flowers keep the light.” We may need to have faith in the light deep within our root systems.

And surely, we must be prepared for periods of conflict as other systems compete to maintain a cultural stronghold. Above all, we must be prepared to stand firmly on this foundation in love. Contrary to what many believe, this doesn’t mean abandoning or altering the root system at all. It does mean that we hold fast to what we believe as we treat others with whom we disagree with respect and grace. We bend our trunks in love but live confidently in the roots which remain fixed below.