(Root) Strength in Numbers - Genesis 25:19-34; Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23

I have three large oak trees in my backyard. They are very hard to mow around, they drop pollen like a yellow sheet in the spring, and they lean, ominously, toward my house. Don’t get me wrong, they are majestic in size and shape, and with the right amount of summer rain, can turn stunning colors in the fall. I am glad that I have them, but I am insecure about being their steward. Taking care of my property is important to me, and I feel woefully ignorant about tree health.

We had a weather rollercoaster this winter that wreaked havoc on many plants, including our beloved hydrangeas here at Christ Church, and my oak trees have dropped more limbs this year than ever before, which made me anxious. No amount of kicking their very sturdy trunks could assure me one way or the other. So this week, I partook in one of my favorite Arkansan activities: I called my local U of A Agricultural Extension. The AgEx is an absolute gift to our communities, and I implore you to read up on their services and get involved where you can.

The delightful woman who answered the phone walked me through the tree diagnosis process as though it was my grandmother who’s sick, not just the plants in my yard. I had to use a pole saw to snag a healthy looking, 8-10 inch sample from each tree, put them in each in a gallon size Ziplock, clearly labeled, and take them to the Pulaski County office on Roosevelt, where I was promised that they would be well-looked after as they were sent to the plant lab for assessment. I won’t have the results for a few more days, but I’ll let you all know what I find out.

The AgEx did have some good news for me. It turns out that having three oak trees in my back yard is important. Alone, a tree has limited capacity to absorb nutrients from the soil and grow roots deep and strong enough to withstand the assaults of the natural world. But in a trio, trees’ roots become intermingled meaning that each tree has three times the capacity for nutrient absorption, and three times the root strength. This was a huge comfort to me, as I simply do not have time for a tree to fall on my house right now. It also struck me that my trees have something to teach me about the Kingdom of God, if I can put aside my anxiety and listen.

This morning our lectionary treated us to the Parable of the Sower. Beloved for many reasons, not least of which that Jesus takes the time to explain it to us. I often wish he had chosen the cursed fig tree, or one of the parables with weeping and gnashing of teeth to explain, but we’ll take what we can get. And frankly, I appreciate the leg up here, because I think even Jesus would admit, there are many ways to interpret this story.

The example Jesus gives has to do with the wellbeing of our souls. We are to nurture them such that they will be fertile ground where the Gospel message can take root. It won’t do for our spiritual lives to be shallow of understanding like the rocky ground, susceptible to corruption like the open path, or consumed by the thorns of worldly pleasures. It’s a powerful and necessary message even if we stop there, but my oak trees have me thinking a little further below the surface.

I’m thinking about the seeds themselves. Something that the rocks, the open path, and the thorns all have in common is that they do not allow the seeds to build that communal root structure that many plants depend on. On the other hand, one of the essential qualities of the fertile soil, is that it makes room for growth in relationship. It allows not just one seed to bloom, but a whole garden. As he often does, I think Jesus is subtly reminding us that our souls can only flourish in community.

One of the loveliest elements of the Christian faith is our vision of and indomitable hope for a heavenly community where all are united with God and one another. Creating glimpses of such a kingdom is part of our baptismal call. However, until all God’s children have been gathered up on that last day, the kind of community required to nurture our souls in God’s love is actually not all sunshine and roses. Instead, it is often marked by conflict and strife.

If you woke up this morning feeling lonely, or if everything your partner did today drove you bananas, or if you had to literally wrestle a family member into the car to get to church, you might not be so keen on a message about holy community. Have no fear, today’s scriptures have something for you, too. In fact, we have the queen of family strife herself, Rebekah, who is told by God that she has two nations in her womb and they will spend their lives divided. As mysterious as it seems to us, conflict is a fundamental part of life in God’s promise.

But here is what my oak trees have helped me understand. Conflict can make communities stronger. Tree roots may compete for water and nutrients, and sometimes branches will die, but even so, their chances of survival and of thriving increase tenfold when they’re together. It is the same with families, and it is the same in communities of faith.

There will always be struggle, hurt feelings, and difficult sacrifices. You will share a pew with someone who votes differently than you and it will irk you. Your priest - this one, at least - will inevitably preach a sermon that you hate. Someone else will get asked to do something that you know you are better suited for. A part of the building that holds cherished memories for you will get torn down after a capital campaign.

And yet. You will be deeply known. You will forgive and be forgiven. When you are humbled,  you will be held together here. You will discover God in each and every corner of this place from the oldest cornerstone to the newest broken ground. When we contribute together to the fertile soil of a worshipping community where the Gospel message can take root, we will thrive because of our trials, not in spite of them. They are necessary, and they are holy.

I’m encouraged by this congregation. In the midst of chaos everywhere from national politics to our own parking lot, we are nurturing a thriving community. Like all communities, we have our struggles from time to time, but our roots are deep and strong. I don’t know what will happen with my trees. I’ll keep you guys updated. I hope none of them have to come down, but I am encouraged that they have each other, and that I have provided good soil for them. Like the Gospel message here at Christ Church, community and a good foundation on which to flourish is all they really need. Amen.