"Rooted in Love"

Ephesians 3:14-21

A Sermon preached by the Rev. Douglas M. Donley

August 13, 2006

University Baptist Church

Minneapolis, MN

Today, we have a visible example of the adage that we need to have our lives rooted in love. We have it in the example of Sara and Matt and Anna. We have it in the families that are gathered here. We have it in the larger context of the church family where we support one another, pray for one another, advocate for one another, lend a listening ear, schlep worldly goods for one another, even share a meal with one another. We do all of this because it is the right thing to do, sure, but we also do this because we are captured by a larger reality. We do all of this as a reflection of that mystical connection we have with something beyond ourselves. That force that brings us sanity in this crazy-making world. We call this force God.

The writer of Ephesians tells us that our lives ought to be centered upon this concept. Our homes ought to reflect this connection, our very lives and beings ought to show that we are beholden to, thankful to, guided by God. The writer prays for the church in Ephesus that they might be strengthened in their inner being by the power of the Spirit, that Christ might dwell in their hearts through faith and that they are rooted and grounded in love.

I like the concept of a root. You have seen roots before. Many of them are deep and some are shallow. I think of the tree roots that produce a single magnificent trunk. Below the surface, in order to make such a trunk happen, you need this network of feelers and strong shoots that seek out water. They need to be resilient against the ravages of insects which might infect the tree. They needs to be able to withstand anything and everything that comes at it. Roots often go unnoticed. But they are essential building blocks to the world. Anyone who has tried to cut down a lilac tree or has half-pulled up a dandelion knows that if you don’t get the entire root, then the plant will regenerate itself.

When we were in Colorado, we visited the Alpine Visitor’s Center in Rocky Mountain National Park. The Center is up over 12,000’ where snow and rocks are interrupted by low-level grasses and shrubs. Inside was one of these plants with a 12’ tap root to support a tiny plant above the surface.

When the writer of Ephesians says that we are to be rooted in love, we are to be reminded that love is a resilient force that can restore the worst cynic to sanity. It can and needs to be the balance and the source and root of our entire being. For without love, we cannot really live into our fullness of being.

One of the lessons I learned from my San Francisco days was that redwood trees have very shallow roots. They are only about 6 feet deep. How then are such tall ancient trees able to stand for so long? The answer is that the roots spread out for hundreds of yards. They are intertwined with other trees. There is a big part of us that might fall down if we too effectively cut ourselves off from those trees around us.

We need them in order to stand.

We need the support of others.

We need the encouragement and the sustenance that comes when another is near us.

When we feel a bit too weak, we can lean on our neighbors, our friends, our family, our church community. That’s part of being rooted in love.

This seams like a no-brainer, doesn’t it? I mean we don’t have to look read hard to see how we need to have our lives rooted in love. If all of our lives were rooted in love, then we might have a whole lot more hope and a whole lot less wars.

But it’s easy to forget that root when gloom and doom surround us.

It’s easier sometimes to believe that people are evil and out to get us.

It’s easy to demonize our enemies and seek to destroy them for we know good and well that they want to destroy us because they are inherently evil.

But that’s where the logic breaks down for me. I don’t believe that people are inherently evil. I believe that people are inherently good. All of us come from the same root, the same loving root that is God. The problem is that we are too quick to forget that root. We are too quick to say that others are not as worthy as we are.

We need only scratch the surface of many people enmeshed in battle in Lebanon or Israel or Iraq or Afghanistan or even the United States to find that mentality of the enemy as evil incarnate.

But Jesus taught us to march to a different drummer. He said, "you have heard it said love your friends and hate your enemies, but I say to you love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you. You have heard it said an eye for an eye and tooth for a tooth, but I say to you do not resist the evildoer with violence."

Love is the true root. The adherents of nonviolence follow Jesus’ lead in believing that all people are good. All people are created in God’s image. All people have value and worth. In essence, all people’s lives, being the reflection of God that they are, are rooted in love. The problem that we get into, is with people’s actions. What people do often falls far from that rootedness. So the work of nonviolence is not only to remind your opponent of their rootedness in love and stop their violent behavior, but it is also to remember that we are rooted in love, and we cannot succumb to the easy temptation to demonize our opponents. For this pulls us away from our roots. We become judgmental and cynical and not a whole lot of fun to be around.

Parents are great teachers. And children are great teachers, too. They tell us what we need to know and remind us what we need to teach others.

Amanda reminds Rebecca at times that there are no such thing as bad guys, only people who do bad things. We need to remember and relearn the lessons we teach our children. It can be hard to love when hatred, fear and suspicion are the ways of the world. Our faith encourages us to look deeper—to the root, the Source from whom all blessings flow.

There is a Navajo tradition of placing the good seeds into a seed pot so that they will keep producing the good fruits in the years to come. Think about what you put into this pot? There is a possibility of putting bad seeds into such a pot, if we are not careful. But the harvest is so important that the Navajo need to separate the good seeds from the bad seeds. Think about what you put into your seed pots. This is what gets passed down from generation to generation. Sure there are bad things that get in there from time to time. There are toxins in the soil that can mar a good crop. But the key is to make sure that there are enough of the good seeds there to ensure a good crop.

We can push this metaphor into our lives. Think about the good seeds that we have received from those who have gone before. Martin Luther King, Jesus, Sojourner Truth, Dorothy Day, Gandhi, all of them believed that love was and is more powerful than hate. The measure of love we have is the measure of love we will get back. We need to make sure that our lives are rooted in love.

This means that we can’t root our life in competition.

We can’t root our life in money.

We can’t root our life in success.

We can’t root our lives in violence.

We can’t root our lives in suspicion. A bit of healthy suspicion is a good thing, but it can’t be the root. The root needs to be love.

Healing is the fruit of love.

Justice is the fruit of love.

Balance is the fruit of love.

A healthy family is the fruit of love.

Peace is the fruit of a life rooted in love.

The root needs to be healing.

The root needs be nurtured, remembered and celebrated. And we need to get nutrition from it as well. That’s what the church is about when we are at our best. We are the ground upon which the roots grow. We need to be rooted and grounded in love, says the writer of Ephesians. We can’t simply remember the root if we don’t also pay attention to the ground around it.

And we are the ground. All of us have an influence on those around us. All of us either tend the roots or we wear away at the ground.

Thin of the toxins that damage the soil out there. Think of the bitterness and strife. We can name them all over the place. We are good at naming all of the things wrong in the world.

And when we only focus on all of that, we end up seeing the world only in that manner.

But I think our task is to remember the root.

Remember the connecting tissue that we need to restore us to sanity.

Remember the lessons of love and acceptance and safety and joy that we got with our mother’s milk.

Remember the power that we feel when we are loved.

That power is the very power of God. It is the power of being connected to the root of all being. It is the hope for all of us.

I’m glad to have my family here as part of my connective roots.

Many of you know that our extended family owned a farm for about a hundred years outside of Cleveland, Ohio. It was purchased to provide respite for a great-great uncle stricken with tuberculosis. Over the years, family members built cabins, planted apple trees and in the summers the extended family would gather across the generations. There were four pine trees that were planted—one for my father and each of his siblings at their births. Those trees were visible, apple, walnut, pine, and pear were symbolic of the way our family had put its very roots in the soil. We cousins would canoe, play Frisbee, have imaginary games in the tall grass, catch poison ivy, enjoy the water from the spring house and revel in the stories of our elders.

As these things tend to happen, the land got sold off a few years ago. And a part of me felt uprooted. It wasn’t that I or anybody else wanted to work the land or even maintain it and its crumbling buildings. Over the years, the farm took a lot of energy—physical and emotional energy. It took a lot of energy to keep up the façade of family harmony at times. For years I held on to this fantasy of the family getting along and everything being right with the world. At least that’s the way it looked to a young child’s eye in that blissful time before consciousness of anything wrong with the world. A part of me longs for that time. I went to see it last summer. I rode my bike to the farm on my summer visit to Cleveland. The buildings are all gone. Most of the trees have been cut down, including the ones that denoted my father and his siblings. Where there was once a field in which we flew kites there is now a paved road, for sale signs and parceled up rocky ground.

I found the spring house still pumping out water that day and I reflected upon the roots of my family. While they are not physically in the farm, they are alive and well in the love I continue to share with my family. I paused and remembered the roots that were there and the roots that I choose to carry away from there. The roots of love are the roots that sustain me and will ultimately bring all of us toward a healthier future.

Think of your connective roots. Remember that we are all part of the great forest that is humanity. Remember that the life-giver of the root system is God. And God is always urging us toward love.

Sisters and brothers, when the storm clouds gather round and we feel we cannot go on, pause to reconnect to the nourishment of that root where love is the life-giver, far-reaching redeemer and hope-sustainer of us all.

May our lives be rooted in love and may we bear good fruit. May we provide shade and shelter for a world in need. Amen.