First United Methodist Church, Birmingham, Michigan
Scripture: Luke 10:38-42
There once lived a couple, a man and his wife, in a small house in the city. One day the man noticed that a tree, a sapling really, was starting to grow through the living room floor. He thought about mentioning it to his wife, but he didn’t for fear of feeling foolish. For who had ever heard of a tree growing through the living room floor. His wife noticed the tree also but she didn’t say anything either. With each passing day the tree grew larger. It grew taller and its trunk thicker. Pretty soon it was no longer a sapling, but a sturdy young tree. The man and his wife watched the tree grow but they never mentioned it, for who had ever heard of a tree growing through the living room floor.
Time passed. The tree grew more quickly. Every fall it would shed its leaves on the living room rug. Insects would fly about and burrow in its bark. Birds began building nests in its branches. And the living room rug was really quite a mess, what with dead leaves, twigs and bits of bark lying all around. The man and his wife had to spend a good deal of their time cleaning up around the tree. But they never mentioned it to each other, for no one had ever heard of a tree growing through the living room floor.
Time marched on. The man and his wife spent more and more of their time cleaning the rug, ducking lower and lower under the branches, and walking in greater and greater detours around the trunk. On one side, the trunk almost touched the wall, forcing them to suck in their stomachs in order to get from one side of the room to the other. Both were thoroughly unhappy with the situation. But neither saw fit to mention it, for who had ever heard of a tree growing through the living room floor.
As time went by, the trunk grew thicker and thicker. Every day the man and his wife had to make a bigger and bigger detour in order to go from one side of the room to the other. As the branches grew and spread every which way, they also had to bend their heads in walking about the room. But neither mentioned the tree to each other, for who had ever heard of a tree growing through the living room floor.
One day, however, the man said to his wife: “It seems that there’s a tree growing through the living room floor.” His wife said that she, too, had noticed it and wasn’t very happy about it, because she had to spend so much of her time cleaning. And the man said that he was tired of sucking in his stomach to squeeze from one side of the room to the other. And his wife said that she didn’t like making greater and greater detours around the trunk. And the man said that he was tired of ducking and bending beneath the branches. So the next day they had the tree removed. The man and his wife were much happier. After that, whenever a tree started growing through the living room floor, they removed it before it got to be too much of a problem.
* * * * * *
I do not know who this couple is. Neither do I know where this couple lives. I do know the man who tells their story. He lives in Connecticut. His name is Steven Pearce. He is a rabbi. I find myself wondering if the good rabbi Pearce has been looking in local living rooms lately. For I suspect that there are a good many trees to be found in the living rooms of Birmingham as well.
Sometimes people let me see their trees. Sometimes they even ask my help in cutting them down. But before a tree can be surgically removed, there must be some prior acknowledgement that the tree exists. And the point of the good rabbi’s story is that it is a lack of acknowledgement, rather than the growth of the tree, that lies at the root of the problem.
This brings us to our first truth about trees growing in living rooms. The tree is not the problem. In fact, notice the relative ease with which the tree is removed, once the man and his wife acknowledge its presence and admit that it bothers them. What is the tree, you ask? Let me be a bit like Jesus and answer one question by asking another. What is it that you are not talking about in your living room, that is beginning to cause difficulties in some significant relationship in your life?
A very lovely lady died a few months ago because of a tree that was growing in her face. Only it looked like a mole. People had noticed it for years. While far from offensive, it was certainly no beauty mark. A few friends, recognizing that it is sometimes kinder to be candid, asked: “Why don’t you have something done about that?” I’m not sure that she ever answered them honestly. Just recently, someone told me what the real issue was. The issue was that she didn’t like doctors.... at all. So she didn’t go to them.... at all. I do not know what her husband and children felt about doctors, or about her mole. I suppose that, over time, the subject became another one of those “trees” that is easier to ignore than remove.
For decades the mole was as dormant as any discussion about it. Until one day it wasn’t.... dormant, that is. It went from nothing to something. It went from dormancy to malignancy. And a couple of months ago, they did something about it. They buried her. But for years, the mole was not the problem. The problem was her refusal to see it, face it, or talk about it.
Lots of trees that grow through living room floors relate to matters of the body. There is the check-up we do not have....the diet we do not follow....the symptom we do not treat....and the signal we do not heed. Some of the trees relate to the alcohol that we consume or the pills that we swallow. But, again, the problem is not the tree. The problem is in the denial of its existence.
Almost anything can be denied. And almost anything will be denied, provided that it relates to an issue of sufficient magnitude, so as to have its revelation threaten the security and serenity of the household. Some people do not talk about money and how it is made or spent. Other people do not talk about jobs and how they are lost or found. Still other people do not talk about the self-destructive personality patterns exhibited by one of their children. Many people avoid expressing doubts about their faith. Still others steer clear of voicing dissatisfaction with their circle of friends, or acknowledging a growing sense of drift and boredom with life itself. And sometimes the most difficult tree to acknowledge, is about love that is not being made in the bedroom, or the fear that love is perhaps being made in someone else’s bedroom. But the point is still the same. The tree is not the problem.
Which leads to a second truth about trees. Most trees thrive on neglect. One of the most amazing things about relationships is how seldom things go away as a result of being ignored. This is a hard truth for me to acknowledge. For I am the kind of person who would like to believe that just the opposite is true. I would, by nature, rather skirt things than face them. I would like to believe that you really can let sleeping dogs lie, and either they will never wake up or, if they do, they will arise with marvelous dispositions and faulty memories. I would like to believe that time really does heal all things, even though I know that there are very few things healed by time, and that most things are healed by people. Trees thrive on neglect.
This introduces a third truth about trees in the living room. We delude ourselves if we think that denying their existence means that they will have no power to affect our lives. Recall that the tree in the good rabbi’s story extracted enormous concessions from two people who could never acknowledge its presence. They had to clean up after it, detour around it, and duck under its branches.
Think of the family members who can never acknowledge that one of their number has a drinking problem, but who never invite anybody over because of the possibility of unpredictable behavior on the part of the person who is drinking. Or think of the family which is afraid to take a vacation because of a teenager in the household who will not go, yet cannot be trusted to stay at home. Still, in these and similar issues, the problem is not the tree. The problem is the way the tree is hidden, particularly if people deceive themselves into thinking that its existence takes no toll.
Let me hasten to add that I am not a terribly public person. Like most people in my generation, I was schooled in the art of concealment. Dirty linen was never to show. And recognizing that, I am not saying that it is imperative that everything be laid out for all to see. So if you are among the more reticent types who do not bleed easily on cue, that’s all right. But do not delude yourself into thinking that unacknowledged trees take no toll. They do. They take an enormous toll. And the reason consists in the fact that it takes great personal energy to maintain a system of denial for very long. And nobody has that much energy. Nobody. If you don’t believe me, just ask yourself how easy it is to pretend in front of people. And if it is so easy, why do you gradually stop going places where you feel you have to pretend. And what happens when the place you have to pretend the most, is the one place you can’t get away from....the place where you live.
With that idea nailed down, are you ready for a fourth truth about trees? If only one person in the house sees the tree, it is no less real. Sightings of trees in the living room do not require cross-verification. Sometimes those who refuse to acknowledge the trees are teenagers. “Things are fine,” they say. They have told us a hundred times that things are fine. Why do we keep trying to make problems where there are none? Why don’t we stay off their backs? But what do we do when we sense that things are not fine? I once heard an absolutely wonderful speech by a teen sexuality counselor. Somewhere within it she recited the three classic parental laments:
How do you help when help is resented?
How do you guide when guidance is rejected?
How do you communicate when attention is perceived as attack?
Sometimes the one who refuses to acknowledge the tree is the spouse. One common scenario, in this time of emerging consciousness on the part of women, is a desire on the part of some wives to redefine the nature of marriage itself. When I once made reference to this in a sermon, a woman paused to speak to me at the door. She said: “My husband’s response to all of this is to shake his head and proclaim, “You certainly are not the same woman I married.” “To which I customarily answer (she said) I certainly hope not.”
I suppose that a lot of women (and no small number of men) are not the same person. Which means that the same marriage will not work. But people tend to become uncomfortable with that. And the people who feel the greatest discomfort are usually male. A man has a hard time seeing trees growing through the living room floor. “I have no problem,” he says. “I am fine. We have no problem. The marriage is fine. You have a problem. You are not fine. Go find someone who will help you with your problem.”
But that’s not true. A marriage is a very delicately balanced system. There is no such thing as one person having a problem. If it is a problem for you, it is a problem for us. And if I delude myself into thinking that I bear no responsibility for it and that you should go fix it, I have no right to be surprised when someday you just go.
Truth number five may seem strangely paradoxical. But hear me out. The truth is this. Talking about the tree may, in some cases, actually do more harm than good. But how can that be? Haven’t we been talking about communication all along? Isn’t “better communication” the twentieth century panacea for everything that ails us from the boardroom to the bedroom? How, pray tell, can talking about the tree do more harm than good? Well, communication is just a tool. And tools can be misused. Besides, it is a myth to think that people in struggling marriages and families don’t talk. They talk a lot. Some of them talk endlessly. They talk until three o’clock in the morning before falling into bed exhausted. Then they get up and resume talking at breakfast. They say everything, over and over again. But they don’t solve anything. That is because they hold “press conferences.” They present their position. They state their case. They tell their side. They describe where they are “coming from.” But I have yet to find anybody who ever solved a problem in a press conference.
All of this leads to a final and concluding truth about trees. Truth number six is this. A willingness to talk about the tree must also imply a commitment to do something about it. In the last analysis, there is only one basic ground for divorce. And it is not adultery, addiction, or even abuse. It is, instead, a consistent unwillingness (on the part of one or both parties) to address and begin working on the problems that threaten the relationship. Such problems, of course, may include adultery, addiction, and abuse.
And the idea of "working on" a problem implies several things. First of all, it implies mutuality. It is extremely hard to work on something by yourself. I suppose it can be done for a while. But private work on a relationship issue becomes, over time, a very poor substitute.
"Working on" a problem also implies negotiation. It means that in the midst of stating my case, I will be willing to surrender something of my case, the better that I can accommodate something of yours.
And in addition to mutuality and negotiation, "working on" a problem also implies a willingness to forgive and be forgiven. Walter Wangerin puts it so beautifully "Communication often magnifies a sin. Forgiveness, alone, puts that sin to bed."
Is any of this biblical? Gosh, I hope so. Especially since there is a terrible scarcity of good biblical material on how to be married and raise a family. In the New Testament, all that we find are a few lines from Paul, who neither married nor raised a family. What's more, he didn't think it was a good idea. And concerning marriage, Jesus said that once you get that way you ought to stay that way. But the Bible makes you do a whole lot of reading between the lines in order to figure out how.
But as concerns trees growing through living room floors, there is ample evidence that Jesus thought you ought to spot them, face them, and cut them down. I challenge you to read the stories that describe Jesus in the midst of conversations with other people. Pay particular attention to those encounters wherein Jesus is talking to one or two individuals rather than a crowd. Read them carefully. Then tell me what you read. Do you read any hint of avoidance, denial, or pretending? Can you picture Jesus not bringing something up because of its difficulty? Can you picture Jesus skirting "touchy" subjects, the better to ensure that all conversations will be harmonious? Or do you read, in Jesus, a style that is both compassionately honest and lovingly confrontational? Listen!
….. Peter, you are probably the best friend I have in the world. But sometimes you are so incredibly dense, to the point that you say things that border on the satanic. When those things happen, I find myself wishing that you'd stand a long way behind me, even to the point of getting out of my life.
….. My young friend, I find myself drawn to you. I like you a lot. It is clear to me that you have a great deal of money. But it is also clear to me that your love for your money is greater than your love for anything else.... including me.
….. For heaven's sake, Martha, I only get through Bethany every once in a blue moon. So will you please sit down and stop fussing with the pots.
….. Zacchaeus, this is by far and away the best meal I have ever eaten in Jericho. But it doesn't obscure the fact that you are a crook.
….. Come off it, lady; we both know that you have already had five husbands.
I've got ten more lines, just like those, in my notes at home. But the key thing to remember is that this somewhat confrontational style drew more people to Jesus, than it drove away. In fact, the lady with multiple husbands went back to her hometown that night, marveling that anybody could know so much about her and still care so much for her.
I simply do not know what Jesus would say about the day-to-day workings of marriage and family life. What I do know is that it was very much in the nature of Jesus to call a tree a tree.
