From our first reading this morning, the passage from Jeremiah
chapter 17:
“I will bless the person
who
puts his trust in me.
He is like a tree growing near a
stream
and sending out roots to the
water.
It is not afraid when hot weather comes,
because
its leaves stay green;
it has no worries when there is no
rain;
it keeps on bearing fruit.”
And
in the Psalm we read together, we are told that those who delight in
the law of the Lord “are like trees planted by streams of water,
which yield their fruit in due season.
Their leaves do not
wither.
In all that they do, they prosper.”
Some
time ago I saw a documentary about the Kalahari desert in Africa,
which is one of the driest places on earth.
But water still
flows under, and very occasionally on top of, the dried river beds,
and you could see, from drone footage, exactly where the rivers run,
because they are lined with green trees,
and it was those trees
that enabled giraffes to live there,
as they could feed on the
leaves.
Israel is pretty dry, too, I understand –
the
Negev, do they call the desert there?
Anyway, the whole thing of
irrigation, and planting trees by the river, has a great many echoes
in the Bible,
so I imagine it must have been very much a thing,
especially back in the days before modern irrigation techniques
were able to make the desert, quite literally, blossom like a
rose.
One of my favourite passages is in Ezekiel,
where
that prophet has a vision of a stream of water beginning in the
Temple in Jerusalem and flowing down to the Dead Sea,
becoming
wider and deeper as it flows, full of fish, fertile, bringing
fertility to the whole area, including the Dead Sea.
And we are
told that “On each bank of the stream all kinds of trees will grow
to provide food.
Their leaves will never wither, and they will
never stop bearing fruit.
They will have fresh fruit every
month, because they are watered by the stream that flows from the
Temple.
The trees will provide food, and their leaves will be
used for healing people.”
Zechariah also mentions this
river, but says half of it will flow to the Mediterranean and half to
the Red Sea.
He doesn’t put trees alongside it explicitly,
though.
This river appears, according to the book of
Revelation, to be in the heavenly Jerusalem rather than the earthly
one we know.
The writer has a vision of the new Jerusalem, and
in part,
“The angel also showed me the river of the water of
life, sparkling like crystal, and coming from the throne of God and
of the Lamb and flowing down the middle of the city's street.
On
each side of the river was the tree of life, which bears fruit twelve
times a year, once each month;
and its leaves are for the
healing of the nations.”
But the point of the passages
in both Jeremiah and the Psalm is that it is we who are –
or
who can be –
like the tree planted by the water.
It is we
who can bear fruit all year round, who can stay green and fresh even
in times of drought.
And at this point we all start to wriggle
and feel uncomfortable and think, “Oh God, I’m not like that at
all!”
And, of course, we aren’t like that.
At
least, most of us aren’t.
Some of us are, and you will know
who those people are in your life.
But they won’t know it
–
partly because if they did know it, they might start
thinking what great people they are, and then, of course, they
wouldn’t be.
Because the whole point is, those of us who do
bear fruit, or green leaves, or whatever, are the ones through whom
God’s Spirit flows.
Jesus said that if we abide in him,
we will bear much fruit, and apart from him, we can do nothing.
We
know, too, what the fruit is that we are going to bear –
those
lovely, life-enhancing qualities that St Paul lists in his letter to
the Galatians:
love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness,
faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.
And I am sure there
are others –
Paul’s lists are apt to be descriptive, not
prescriptive!
But to get back to our passage, Jeremiah
also points out that people who do not trust in God are like desert
shrubs –
small, stunted, good for nothing much at all.
A
far cry from the lush trees growing by the river.
And we may
well know people like that, too;
people who do make a fair fist
at being human,
but oh, how much more they could be if only
they trusted Jesus!
And, you know, it’s not just us as
individuals, but us as a church.
As a church, we can be lush
trees growing by the river;
at that, we can guide people to the
source of living water, Jesus himself.
We can cry out against
injustice where we perceive it;
we can stand by our American
friends who are really worried by this new regime; by our
Ukrainian,
Russian,
Palestinian,
Israeli,
Sudanese,
Somali
or
Syrian friends whose lives have been devastated by war;
we can
cry out against the conditions that mean people need to use the food
banks –
and, indeed, donate to them;
and so on –
you
can watch the news as much as I can!
Or, alas, we can be small
and stunted and good for nothing much –
but I’m sure this
church isn’t like that!
And Jesus himself had some
pretty harsh things to say to people –
and, presumably,
churches –
who only trusted themselves, as we heard in our
Gospel reading.
We are more used to the version of this teaching
given in Matthew, I think, probably because Matthew’s version is so
much easier.
We can think of ourselves as poor in spirit, as
hungry and thirsty after righteousness –
but we are manifestly
rich and well fed,
just like those whom Jesus condemns here.
I
imagine Jesus does not condemn us just for being rich and well fed
and content –
after all, that is largely an accident of
birth.
Had we been born in another country, at another time,
things might have gone very differently for us.
But it’s the
“I’m all right, Jack” mentality that so often goes with being
rich and well fed that is to be shunned at all costs.
We may be
all right –
but there are plenty of people who aren’t.
We
may be going home to a big Sunday lunch,
or we might be
planning to go out for brunch,
as there are so many good
restaurants in this area that serve it on a Sunday.
We’re on
our way to the country for a week!
But what of those whose
cupboards are bare, who depend on the food banks for today’s
meals?
What of those who are homeless and begging in the
streets?
These appear to be the ones who, in this passage, Jesus
is praising and blessing.
I’m not saying, of course,
that we should be giving to every beggar on the streets –
there
are better ways of
helping to relieve homelessness and hunger.
I
know some of you have donated to the Brixton Food Bank recently
–
Robert took a car-load from here over to the hub at Brixton
Hill just the other day.
Please go on doing this as and when you
can afford to –
it is more necessary than ever, alas.
But
it isn’t so much what you do, as your attitude.
Remember
Jesus’ story of the rich man ostentatiously giving huge amounts to
the Temple, and then the poor old beggar woman giving a tiny coin?
It
was, said Jesus, the woman who had given the most;
the rich man
wasn’t going to miss what he’d given, but that coin might have
meant the woman going without her supper that day.
But how
do we become that sort of person?
I know I’m not!
The
sort of person who resembles a tree planted by the water,
bearing
fruit and leaves all year round –
well, that’s not me!
I’m
far too selfish and lazy and greedy and so on….
But then, we
all have our faults.
And if I were to try to conquer mine in my
own strength, I’d just be setting myself up for failure.
The
thing is –
and this isn’t easy, either –
it’s about
letting God grow us.
We are to produce fruit, and fruit isn’t
manufactured, it’s grown.
Leaves aren’t stuck on the tree
with Blu-tak, they are grown, too.
Some years ago now, a
friend gave me a small flower-pot containing an aloe vera shoot.
These days, it’s huge – at least three large plants, and I ought
to repot it. But I’ve done nothing to make this happen – given
it a few drops of water from time to time; plucked a leaf when I’ve
needed some aloe vera for something, and that’s it. It has
grown.
Plants grow.
Flowers grow.
Fruit
grows.
Leaves grow.
We can’t make them grow, and we can’t
make ourselves produce the good qualities that are required of God’s
people.
But we can allow God the Holy Spirit to flow through us,
to fill us,
to indwell us,
to enable us to become
the people God designed us to be.
And if we do that –
and,
let’s face it, we’re not going to be able to do that every
moment,
but the more we try to allow God to work in and through
us, the more successful we will be –
if we do allow God the
Holy Spirit to flow through us, we will gradually become a tree
planted by the water side.
Amen.