For When You Are Talking to Trees--July 22, 2025

For When You Are Talking to Trees--July 22, 2025

"...provided that you continue securely established and steadfast in the faith, without shifting from the hope promised by the gospel that you heard, which has been proclaimed to every creature under heaven." (Colossians 1:23)

When I try to tell my dog that she can have a treat if she just stays put, she is not a good listener. She can often tell when something special is going to be put in her dish, and if I tell her to "sit," she will eventually sit down on her hind legs for a moment, but the instant I get any closer to the dish, she springs back up, gets in my way, and actually makes it harder for me to put the treat in her bowl.  Similarly, if she comes nosing up around my legs when I am sitting down in my chair in the evening, I will offer to scratch behind her ears or pet her back, but sometimes she is just so squirrelly that she moves out of the reach of my arm. And once again, the good thing is offered, but she misses out, because she has moved out of the spot where she could receive it.

The trees in my back yard, however, are different.  This seems obvious to say, of course, but let's unpack the difference.  My dog can move out of the "right place," whether by their excitement, or the jumpiness, or their sheer impatience.  A tree, however, stays put.  That is part of its essential tree-ness: trees stay rooted.  And big tall trees, like the substantial arbor vitae and the pines in my back yard, those are trees that have clearly already found a good spot to grow in, with soil that provides them stability and nutrition, and a spot with an open enough sky to get sun and rain, too. Trees like that are already precisely where they should be, and they are already literally tethered to the spot that feeds them, supports them, and allows them to grow.

So while you are unlikely to need to have this conversation with the oaks and maples in your yard, if you did ever find yourself talking to the trees, really all you would ever need to say in terms of advice is simply, "Stay rooted in the good soil where you are, and just let yourself thrive from the good gifts you receive here."  A tree doesn't have to be told to go somewhere else; once it's rooted and established in good soil, all it needs to do is to stay put where it is and allow the rain, soil, and sun to let it flourish.

Now, I mention this because these words from Colossians, which many of us heard this past Sunday in worship, might sound like they are giving orders to an antsy dog, but they are really talking to trees.  The apostle has been talking about how God has reconciled us through Jesus' death and resurrection and made us into new, holy creations, and now the sentence continues in today's verse, which begins, "provided that you continue securely established and steadfast in the faith...."  And at first blush, it could sound like the writer is talking to my very jumpy dog, along the lines of, "You can have these special treats as long as you sit in the right place.  Stay--stay--STAY!" And of course, if my dog is any indicator, sometimes the wagging tail sits still, and sometimes it bounces all around and gets in the way.  It could sound like Paul is saying, "God would be happy to give you some very nice salvation here, but you are just so squirmy and unwilling to stay still that I don't know if you'll get it after all." In other words, we might hear this verse like it's a catch, a bit of fine print, or a condition, so that God only gives good gifts to the ones who have proved they deserve a treat by sitting in the right place.

But really, the image here is a lot more like talking to trees:  the apostle talks about staying "grounded" (that's a better translation than "established," I think) and settled, like a tree planted in good soil with deep roots.  In other words, the letter to the Colossians isn't telling us that there is a prize waiting if we can find the right spot to sit still in--rather, it's saying, "You are already rooted in the firm foundation of the Gospel and the bedrock of Jesus Christ himself.  Just stay rooted where you are and let Christ give you the things you need right there to thrive!"  We don't have to be nervous little dogs wondering if we'll earn a treat for finding the right tile square on the kitchen floor to sit down in. Rather, we are evergreen trees planted by God, rooted in Christ, and nourished by the Spirit.  Our growth as disciples isn't so much our achievement for being sufficiently devout or dedicated--it is a gift of grace.  

That reframes the whole Christian life, if you think about it.  For all of our talk about the challenge of discipleship and the ways that Jesus leads us beyond our comfort zones (which is all well and good), the New Testament doesn't tell us that the life of discipleship is our accomplishment, but rather a gift God grows in us.  Paul doesn't say, "You all had better show sufficient improvement at obedience, or else God will start withholding grace!" He doesn't say, "God's forgiveness is only available if you don't get in the way when God is trying to give it to you!"  And God definitely doesn't wait to love us until after we have stopped yipping with excitement.  Rather, God has already planted us in a good place--we are rooted in Christ, after all.  It doesn't fall to us to go searching for the right spot to stand in; we are invited, rather, to bloom where we are planted, so to speak.  We are called to let God's good gifts have their rightful effect in us, so that we take in more and more of Christ-likeness much like white carnations will turn colors if you give them dyed water.  

The goal of the Christian life is indeed that we become more and more fully like Christ--so that we love, speak, serve, act, care, and pray in ways that look like Jesus.  But that isn't laid on us as a Do-It-Yourself project.  It is brought forth from us like watching a maple spring up from a whirlybird to a seedling to a sapling to a full-grown tree.  Being disciples of Jesus will change us--of that, there is no doubt. But God isn't holding back our spiritual nourishment like dog treats contingent on our being able to follow a command or sit still for long enough.  At least in one sense, we are less like puppies and more like poplars.

Today, then, pay attention to where you are already rooted in Christ, and let the living God feed, nourish, challenge, stretch, and develop your maturity through those connections.  Those people whom God has placed in your life whose insights feed your soul, whose questions stretch your faith, whose example challenges you to go beyond your comfort zones, and whose love gives you support--let those people continue to pour into you.  The opportunities you have to serve other people, to speak up for others like Jesus does, to welcome people beyond your usual social circles and share your table with them (also like Jesus does), and to learn from other disciples--don't pass those by or ignore them.  In other words, with whatever resources God has placed in your life to develop your discipleship, let them be your sun, rain, and soil.

Today, rather than nervously worrying if we have done enough, maybe today is a day to put roots down deep where they will be fed, and to trust that God knows how to call forth a tree from a seed.

Lord God, nurture us where you have rooted us, and bring us to maturity and the fullness of Christ's character in us.