Doing what it does and being what it is for all these years, it has stood there. It was old when our grandparents were just born. It was old even before that.

When the United States were still a Confederation, when Washington was leading the colonial army, when Plymouth Rock had yet to be stepped on with English feet, or – earlier still – Virginia had been named for the first Elizabeth … even then it was old.

During the Reformation it was old. Old when the Normans arrived in 1066. Old, yes, already when the Romans packed up and headed back home, when the monks from Ireland arrived with the Gospel.

It was even old when the Gospels were first written down, when the stories about Jesus were shared by eyewitnesses, when Jesus himself was born in Bethlehem.

It was old 2,000 years before that.

The yew tree standing in the churchyard of the church of St Michael in Discoed, on the border between Powys and Herefordshire in the United Kingdom, has been old for years and years. It is now 5,000 years old.

I was able to have lunch with this ancient being on 15 May.

What has this one ancient tree been doing all this time? Or, better, what has it been being? This yew has been being a yew, has been doing what yews do. It has been standing and witnessing. It has been giving shade. And providing perches for innumerable birds. Taking in carbon dioxide, stripping off the carbon for its own use, returning oxygen for our use, for the birds, and other animals. These are among the things a yew does when it is simply being what it is created to be.

And us. What are we created to be? What are we meant to do while we are being that? Are we being that instead of straining to be someone or something else? Are we doing whatever it is that we are created to do?

The ‘what’ can seem hard to uncover. But, really, simply being – as the yew has simply been for 5,000 years now – faithfully, patiently, honestly, that’s all it takes. Simply playing our parts.

You can be yew. I can too.