There are actually two kinds of redwoods.  giant sequoia (sequoiadendron gigantea) and coast redwood (sequoia semprevirens). In terms of total volume of wood, the giant sequoia is actually the world's largest tree. The giant sequoia is also one of the fastest growing and oldest trees - some are around 3,000 years old.  And the trunks of some of them are as much as twenty-five feet across. But for sheer height, the old-growth coast redwoods of California are the world’s tallest trees.  These are the ones I grew up with, and love so much from my childhood, and miss to this day..  And when I say "huge," the word doesn’t even begin to describe them. Superlatives abound when a person tries to describe old-growth redwoods: immense, ancient, stately, mysterious, powerful. They can live to be well over 2,500 years old, (that we know of, so far!)  and grow to over 300 feet. The tallest one is 368 feet tall; that’s like 35 stories!

There’s one old one, near Yosemite, that they tunneled through, and you can drive a car through the trunk.... and it’s still alive, and still growing. One of the reasons that they grow to be so big and so old is that, (1) they’re almost completely resistant to all known tree diseases, and (2) their bark is resistant to both pests and fire.

You never see just a single redwood. They don’t grow alone, but only in forests that are like huge, naturally growing cathedrals. And they typically grow in round groves. As kids, I remember we used to call them "Fairy circles," don’t ask me why. Anyhow, they grow in round groves because the coast redwoods reproduce not from seed, but by little redwoods that spring up from the roots of the older trees.

The shoots grow in a circle around the big trees, and are sheltered and supported by them until they are big enough to grow on their own. In time, the old trees fall, and a circle of smaller trees (which may, by that time, be themselves hundreds of years old) carries on in that grove. It’s a very beautiful thing. Sometimes, it feels like being in a cathedral. 

So what I explained to Wesley Seminary was that, when I was young, I was rooted in faith, and was supported and sheltered like the young redwoods, by "spiritual ancestors," so that my mind and my spirit could grow up around them and share their rootedness in God. My mother, especially, made sure that I was "raised in the nurture and admonition of the Lord." From a very early age, she made sure that I was always in the presence of people whose lives would inform my understanding of who God is, and what a relationship with Jesus Christ is like. I have faith today because people like that lived their faith before my eyes.

And the reason that I thought this was relevant to my pursuing a call to ministry and going to seminary was that, using that analogy of the redwood trees, I felt that I had been constantly and lovingly guided and prepared to carry the word of God, and the love of God that is in me, to places where there is a tremendous need for God’s touch -- to be Christ’s hands and feet and lips in this world, as they had for me. In looking back on the winding path that brought me to that point, I believed, and still believe, that I had been constantly nurtured and guided and prepared. And that, like the little redwood trees that were nurtured in the groves I played in as a child, I should spread beyond my roots, and nurture others in their growth, and to reach for the sky – like those tallest of trees – in a way that I never had before.

.....And, for some reason, the seminary actually bought it, and let me in.

Thank God that no one on the admissions committee had ever lived in Northern California. Because in looking back on that analogy now, I see one fatal flaw in it. You know those fairy circles? There’s something missing in them. You know what it is? It’s that great big empty space in the middle. The big tree’s GONE.

You see, redwood trees have really, really shallow roots. A tree hundreds of feet tall may have roots that only go down about ten feet. So the reason that that big tree is gone is generally that it fell down. Redwoods, like I said, don’t generally die from disease or fire. They’re extremely vulnerable to lumberjacks, but not much else. What does them in, though, is usually erosion, or windstorms. So with those shallow root systems, they can only grow in places where there’s plenty of water all the time. AND.... they can only grow together.

So, when I made that analogy in my application to seminary, I was actually kind of mistaken about the applicability of that scripture to redwood trees. But, I was NOT mistaken about its applicability to life. You see... Life can’t exist without water. Water’s the most common substance on earth – and the most necessary. It’s essential to life. Now, there are some places where there’s not much water at all. And much of the Biblical landscape is like that. Desert. That’s the kind of place Jeremiah’s talking about. In the dry climate of the Middle East, the availability of water was priceless. It still is. So in an environment that dry, roots are really important for plants, especially roots that can grow deep enough to hit water. Because without water, you whither and die, whether you’re an animal, or a plant.

So in today’s passage, through his blessings and curses, the prophet Jeremiah was calling God’s people back to their roots. Their lives had grown quite shallow. All they could see was only what they were about. The bigger picture was eluding them. You might say, they couldn’t see the forest for the trees.... Oh, they thought they were thinking in broader terms, but they weren’t going deep in that which set them apart from every other people – their covenant relationship with God. They trusted in everything but the One who had been proven faithful to them over and over. They were becoming like a desert shrub.

To be like "a tree growing beside a stream, with roots that reach down to the water," isn’t that a blessing? Isn’t that how we’d like to see ourselves? So, I’m asking all of us, How are your roots doing? Now, I’m not talking about our ancestors, though we do gain from their examples, especially as we seek the best in them and learn from their mistakes. But how are your roots doing? Are they growing deeper? Are they connecting? Are they reaching down to the water? Are the roots of us as a church (not just as individuals) growing toward the stream?

Jeremiah is talking about roots of faith, below the surface, that hold fast through storms and erosion. And what he is saying, also is that we DO live beside a stream. Water, in the Bible is often a metaphor for the work of the Holy Spirit in the lives of those who know God. Earlier in Jeremiah, in chapter 2, and later in this chapter, Jeremiah tells of God calling Godself a "fountain of living water." (Jer. 2:13, 17:13) And in the gospels, we read in John 4:13-14 "Jesus said to the woman at the well, ‘Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I give them will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life’" And in Revelation, God declares that "To the thirsty I will give water as a gift from the spring of the water of life."

So, just as water is necessary to sustain physical life, the work of God’s spirit is essential to sustain our spiritual lives. I think about the places I can go to to find spiritual refreshment – to drink deeply of the living water. One place, for me, is here – the church. Another, for me, is this, God’s word. These are my roots, the things that keep me connected to the water of life.

And, truly, sometimes, people have kept me rooted in faith. That analogy that I put in my application to seminary may have had a few botanical errors in it, but what I said about the people was dead on, the spiritual ancestors who supported and sheltered me like the young redwoods were rooted and sheltered by those ancient trees, so that, like them, I could grow in faith, so that my mind and my spirit could grow up around them and share their rootedness in God’s love. And, truly, that’s what I want to be like, too.

Remember what I said about redwoods having a very shallow root system? They’re shallow, but they’re intertwined. They’re tied in with each other; interlocked. So, when the storms come and the winds blow the redwoods still stand, because they support each other. As one tall tree with a shallow root system, a redwood tree is vulnerable to wind and erosion. But, together, they can withstand any storm that comes in their way. They stand tall above all other living things on earth, because of their strong relationship with one another.

As Christos goes forward into its 21^st year, it’s my prayer that we’ll be like those redwoods I love back in California. We need to look to God and grow in our faith. But, unless we also grow stronger in our relationship with one another, we’re bound to fall flat on our face. The more we grow vertically in our relationship with God, the more we need to grow horizontally in our relationships with other believers, because the wind blows harder up there. Unless we’re connected with other believers who can keep us accountable with their support and prayers, we’ll be a 21st century Humpty Dumpy and have a great fall.

So, when I reflect on this passage, two things come to mind. One, I give thanks for the people who have sheltered me in faith. I hope you’ve had people like that in your lives, who have helped keep you connected to God.

And two, as we grow in faith, we shelter others. We do.... in the love and care and nurture we share as a body. In the commitment we make to one another, as a body, to help keep one another rooted in faith. To share our rootedness in God with one another. To live our lives so that others may know what we know of a loving God, and who God is, and what a relationship with Jesus Christ is like. Someday, someone else may have faith because we have struggled to live our faith before their eyes. Someday, YOU may be someone else’s spiritual roots. Hear again these words from the prophet Jeremiah: "Blessed are those who trust in God, whose trust is God. They shall be like a tree planted by water, sending out its roots by the stream. It shall not fear when heat comes, and its leaves shall stay green; in the year of drought it is not anxious, and it does not cease to bear fruit."

It does not cease to bear fruit. That’s an awesome responsibility. But we can do it, because we ARE planted by a stream of living water, by an ever-flowing fountain of life and of love.