Last week I stopped to chat with our four-year-old granddaughter as she was sitting in the garden. I asked her what she was doing. “Watching butterflies” was the answer. As I squatted next to her she pointed out a half dozen or so butterflies that were flitting around the garden. I decided that watching butterflies with your granddaughter is an especially wonderful way to spend a bit of time on an early autumn afternoon.

There is an ancient story about butterflies that is associated with the religion of Daoism. Written around 300 BC, the story appears in Chinese and Japanese art as well as written collections of stories. I don’t read either Chinese or Japanese, but I have read the story in translation in English. It goes something like this: One day Zhuang Zhou dreamed he was a butterfly. He enjoyed flying and fluttering about. He was happy and doing as he pleased. He didn’t know that he was Zhuang Zhou. Suddenly he woke up. When he was awake he didn’t know if he was Zhuang Zhou who had dreamt he was a butterfly, or a butterfly dreaming that he was Zhuang Zhou.

The story present a gentle push against human ego and the way we perceive reality. It stands in stark contrast to the famous quote by René Descartes. When I was an undergraduate student, I read Descartes’ Discourse on the Method in French, so I thought the original quote was “je pense, done je suis.” Although the Discourse was published in French, it was common for scholars to write in Latin, so the quote often appears in Latin as “cogito, ergo sum.” In English we say, “I think, therefore I am.” Of course no matter what language, there is a logical error in the phrase as a philosophical argument. Thought is not in and of itself proof of existence. Thoughts are fleeting and changeable - like the butterfly.

Butterflies have long been used by teachers of faith as symbols of resurrection. They begin their lives as caterpillars that eat and quickly grow, shedding their skin during a series of molts. Then they form a chrysalis around themselves. At this stage of life they appear to be dead, but they are undergoing a transformation and when the chrysalis is opened, a butterfly emerges. A similar process occurs in the life cycle of moths, whose protective casing for transformation is called a cocoon. This appearance of death followed by transformation gives a way to talk about the process of resurrection in which a new and beautiful existence lies on the other side of death. For many years in our church in Rapid City, we had activity bags specifically designed for children attending funerals, that had a stuffed creature that could appear as a caterpillar and then by opening a slit in the creation, wings would emerge and the creature became a butterfly as it was turned inside out.

Ours is not the first generation to use butterflies as a way to think about resurrection. At about the same time as the story of Zhuang Zhou emerged in China, in Greece Aristotle wrote a treatise called “The History of Animals.” In that work he expressed his belief that a chrysalis is a tomb of the caterpillar and the butterfly emerging is the soul of the caterpillar in visible form. In Greek mythology, Psyche, the goddess of the soul, is often depicted with a butterfly.

Butterflies are not only wonderful creatures and observing them with a grandchild is a worthy investment of time, but they are also symbols. Throughout history artists have included butterflies in paintings as a reminder of the transience of life and the ephemerality of things that we consider to be important.

Increasingly, I have noticed the use of butterflies in the work of artists and writers who are addressing climate change. Butterflies are especially vulnerable to changes in climate. Populations of monarch butterflies are in decline all across North America because of higher than normal spring temperatures. Around the world, many butterfly species are migrating northward to find cooler climates. The long-tailed blue did not used to be native to England, but they now make regular appearances there and are less frequently seen in more southern European locations. Scientists tell us that butterflies have already adjusted migration patterns that are tens of thousands of years old. These changes have become one of the warning signs of the climate crisis that is upon the world.

It seems to me that butterflies are an excellent symbol for those working for change in human behavior to help stave off further human-caused climate change. As we work for positive change in our own behavior a butterfly can remind us of our own fleeting nature. We do not live forever. Our lives are soon over and we die. As much as we sense ourselves as the center of the universe, the universe has existed without us and will continue to exist beyond our time of life on earth. The butterfly is a symbol of the briefness of our time. In addition, butterflies serve as a warning. Our choices affect others and have so modified the climate of our planet that human existence is no longer assured. We may have done so much environmental damage that the planet cannot recover sufficiently to sustain human existence. With that frightening thought, however, butterflies are also reminders of hope. That which we currently see is not the entire story. The crisis we face does not fully define us. In the language of faith, resurrection is real. We hope not because of what we can see with our eyes, but because of the power of our imaginations.

Of course I didn’t get into an extended philosophical conversation with my granddaughter. I didn’t speak to her of Zhuang Zhou or Aristotle. I didn’t even discuss climate change and environmental crisis with her. I simply paused and sat beside her in the garden for a few minutes and counted butterflies as they flew from flower to flower.

It was a day rich with hope. And these days, we are deeply in need of hope.