Trees at Rooted

“The Tree as Rooted”

May 3, 2026 Cobleskill United Methodist Church, Pastor Anna Blinn Cole

Revelation 22:1-2

Fifth Sunday of Eastertide

Revelation 22:1-2

The River of Life

22 Then the angel^[a] showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb ² through the middle of the street of the city. On either side of the river is the tree of life^[b] with its twelve kinds of fruit, producing its fruit each month, and the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations.

Do you have a phobia?  You know, something you’re afraid of you’d do just about anything to avoid?  A fear that may even be irrational, but is still very real for you?  It’s kind of an odd way to begin a sermon, but I need to come clean right now and tell you that my phobia is the very thing on which I’m preaching today.  Tree roots.  I know, it’s weird.  You’ve probably never heard of that.  I have a phobia of tree roots, really only when they are exposed from the bottom up, like when a tree has been turned over.  It’s absurd and not rational.  But equally terrifying.  I blame it on seeing the movie Tremors at too young of an age.  Anyway, my sanity was put to the test while hiking long distances on the Appalachian Trail where sometimes trees are downed along the trail.  And rather than snapping in their trunk, the tree falls over (wind storm, old age, etc), and a big clump of roots gets pulled along with the tree as it falls.  The main clump of roots cannot be separated from the trunk.  This is an incredible phenomenon and also personally terrifying for me as the trail sometimes went immediately adjacent or even through the cavity created by the roots bringing me feet of the roots themselves. 

I think it was probably because I had/have this phobia that I was even more aware of how often these roots were still attached to their tree base even when the tree had come down.  You can appreciate something (from a distance, separated by time and space) even though it terrifies you up close.  

So now that I’ve confessed my phobia, I feel like we can get through this sermon together, especially because the roots themselves are, in most cases, below the ground.  I think I’ve mentioned this before but one of the more interesting parts of our stained glass window art in the sanctuary here is right behind me on either side.  The underground.  The space that the plant inhabits that is not seen usually.  And you can see the curving brown pieces here, probably meant to signify something related to the roots of the plant above it.  I am so amazed by the windows of this church, but this just brings it to new levels.  The fact that the stained glass artist saw the under workings, the roots and the soil, of a plant worthy for stained glass in a sanctuary is a testament to their understanding of their faith.  

Sometimes what you can’t see is just as important as what you can see.   Back in 2019 when the Catalpa Tree was struck by lightning, I invited Fred Breglia out from Landis Arboretum to give us an assessment of its health.  He said to me, look around at this yard, the yard around the tree. All of the green you see, the entire yard, that is the extent of this tree’s root system.   A system of roots that is almost 8 times bigger than the canopy of the tree itself is not uncommon with a tree that age and size. About the lightning strike, Mr. Breglia said: this tree will be okay, in large part because of its support system underground.

Our scripture passage today doesn’t specifically mention roots, but it does illude to their presence.  We read from the Book of Revelation, the last book in our biblical canon.  The Book of Revelation is a vision that a man named John of Patmos had and then sent to seven first century churches.  It’s a depiction, full of symbols, of God’s power of evil across all of history.  The book is metaphorical and symbolic.  Contrary to some interpretations, United Methodists do not view Revelation as a book of impending doom and rapture.  We understand these writings to be a vision of hope and justice where God establishes a new heaven and a new earth, a place and a time where humans live alongside God and the ultimate sense of justice and renewal are accessible to all.  It’s for this reason, the Tree of Life reappears in Revelation.  A vision of what could be after what has been in the Garden of Eden.  In Revelation, the tree is symbol of God’s provision of eternal life and God’s desire to give nourishment and healing to all of creation.  The Tree of Life in Revelation reverses the curse of Eden and represents a new heaven and a new earth.  A vision, again, of what could be.  

The passage from Revelation that we heard today is a merely a small excerpt but it gives you a sense of both the magnitude of the Tree of Life and one of its core qualities: 

Revelation 22:1-2 Then the angel^[a] showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb ² through the middle of the street of the city. On either side of the river is the tree of life^[b] with its twelve kinds of fruit, producing its fruit each month, and the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations.

There are many beautiful things that stand out in this passage, but what caught my ear was that The Tree of Life spanned either side of the river of the water of life.  Either side of the river! How did it do this?  We know some tree species in the world have a network of trunks, rather than just one.  Species like the Redwoods, which we talked about last week.  Aspens, the Banyan Tree, River Birch and Crape Myrtle. These are all examples of such trees.  Trees that appear to be disconnected above the ground with multiple trunks but are actually rooted together underneath where they form only one distinct organism.  The Tree of Life spans both sides of the river in Revelation because of its roots.  It also is held to the bank in the midst of the rushing force of water by… its roots.  It holds the bank together so that the water can move through.  

A tree without roots would be a tree killed by lightning and a tree washed away by the river.  A tree without roots would not survive drought and in times of floods, it would leave its landscape vulnerable to erosion in times of floods. 

I believe the roots have something to teach us, as a community of faith.  Our own church is kind of like a single tree with many trunks, connected underground in a system of roots that hold us together.  You see, I don’t believe Revelation paints a picture of a faraway heaven and earth that is out of reach or only accessible after we die.  I believe that God is working now, right now, to bring heaven to earth and I believe we are God’s helpers.  

How do we do it?  How does this faith community made up of us all work, sometimes below the surface even, to bring God’s kingdom to earth?  How are we rooted?  

First, we as a community of faith must protect against erosion.  Like the sweeping currents of muddy flood waters, there are currents in our culture right now that are not life-giving.  These are currents of deception, power and greed.  Attitudes of exploitation and manipulation.  Violence for the sake of domination.  Grandeur for the sake of showmanship.    Sometimes these currents masquerade as the “water of life” but we know them to be too muddy to be God’s work.  And our job as a community of faith rooted in Jesus’ good news is to hold fast against these currents.  To not be moved.  To provide structure and security to the river bank around us so that the corroding forces don’t sweep away the earth around us.  We do this by loving boldly, so boldly that we get a reputation.  That’s the church that loves everyone.  Yep.  Our roots hold the neighborhood together when we are known for being a protector of the vulnerable.  When we act justly and love boldly not when it’s easy, but when it’s hard.  And we do it not just because it feels good, but because it’s our call from Jesus.  

How else?  How else do we learn from the trees when we want to bring God’s kingdom to earth?  We, like the Aspen groves or Banyan tree, take what is good and sprout it up above the surface in new places and new ways.  Think about all the ways you have been embraced and even changed and opened up by this community of faith.  How can this rich culture of belonging be sprouted up in new ways outside of these walls?  How is God calling us to send shoots out from this Mother Tree?  The good news and authentic community of faith cannot be contained by four walls.   It wants to spread.  How can we help?

And lastly, what lesson does the tree’s root system teach us to bring the kingdom of God?  Resiliency in hard times.  Just like the Catalpa Tree’s massive root system, our community faith is wide and deep with people that care.  When one individual goes through a hard time, the rest of the community is there to support them through it.  When the community itself goes through a hard time, the foundations of our identity carry us forward.  We are grounded in God’s goodness.  We are a people who are resilient.  Are roots run deep and they are getting deeper and wider by the day every time you show up for another and spend time letting God nurture your spirit.  And together, we can do hard things.  

We’ve got to keep holding together and by God’s grace we will.  I’ll try not to be scared when life gets uprooted, if you’ll promise to do the same.  Because the vision of Revelation is not, as some say, scary.  It’s hopeful.  It paints a picture of what could be, a Tree of Life that nourishes and restores.  A community like ours, empowered by God’s grace to anchor our neighborhood to what is true and good, spreading our message outside these walls to those who need it most, and forming resilient bonds below the surface that fortify our strength and connection.  

Grace and Peace, 

Pastor Anna