The White Tree Withered

Recently, for the upteenth time, I was working my way rewatching the Lord of the Rings Trilogy (extended editions, accept no substitutes).  I had just started Return of the King when Gandalf said something that struck me.  He was lamenting the downfall of Gondor to Pippin when practically heavy with grief Gandalf says, “And so the line of Kings fell.  The reign of Gondor fell to lesser men” and because of that the White Tree withered, hoping one day to blossom again.  

The White Tree as Symbol

The White Tree of Gondor is more than ancient flora. It is sacramental, almost Eucharistic in meaning — a living sign of legitimacy, continuity, and grace. It only blooms under the reign of the true king. When Aragorn comes into his own, the tree blossoms again.

We, too, have our "white trees" — symbols and sacraments that depend not on human merit but on proper stewardship. In the Church, these signs are meant to thrive under holy governance. When they do not, it is rarely because God has withdrawn, but because we have.

"A good tree cannot bear bad fruit" (Mt 7:18).

And yet sometimes, it seems, even good trees appear to wither when neglected by those entrusted with the vineyard.

When the Line Fails

Gondor did not fall in a single battle. It eroded under the weight of forgotten courage, political fear, and a love of comfort over mission. Stewardship replaced sacrifice. Titles endured, but conviction did not.

We know this pattern. In some places, the Church echoes Gondor. Not in her essence — the Bride of Christ remains pure — but in her administration, her confidence, and her fruitfulness. There are corners of the vineyard where the line has fallen. The great kings of old gave way to lesser men.

This is not bitterness. This is grief. And grief cries out because it still hopes.

Lesser Men and Quiet Hope

We do not hate Denethor. We pity him. He was not evil, but broken by weariness. Many who serve today carry the same fatigue. But unlike Denethor, we are not called to fall to despair.

The people of Gondor did not rise up and appoint a king. They waited, fought, and prepared the city for his return. They held the line until the rightful heir arrived.

We are called to do the same.

The Church is not dead. She slumbers in some places. In others, she blossoms wildly. But in every land, there are those who still keep vigil beside the White Tree, waiting for the dawn.

The King Will Return

We are an Easter people, which means we are people of return. Christ has not abdicated. His reign is not in jeopardy. But He does allow seasons of pruning, silence, and waiting.

In those seasons, we are tested: will we keep the lamp lit? Will we stay faithful? Will we love the Tree even when it seems barren?

Because even now, hidden in some glen of providence, the sapling stirs.

Come, Lord Jesus. Bloom again.