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Do you know what the largest living organism on earth might be? It is a grove of aspen trees in Utah. From above ground they appear as 47,000+ Aspen trees. Yet underneath the forest surface they are all interconnected as one single organism.

I only know this because I lived in Colorado when this was discovered. Immediately foresters and others hunted the hills and mountains to see if they could find a larger strand of aspen in Colorado. Alas, they could not. I remember looking out our living room window at our 5 aspen trees, wondering: Are they one or are they four?

There may be something we can learn from the aspen. Aspens are tall with slender whitish, peeling, bark much like birch trees in the Northeast. Like a Q-tip they are bushy on the top with slender trunks. They turn a beautiful gold in the fall, lose their leaves after the gold turns to brown, and begin it all over again come Spring.

We have our own seasonal habits. Not as much in Arizona where it seems there are but two seasons: Summer and January. However, we do have clothing for cooler weather as well as hot. We have decorations for Fall, Winter, Spring, and shade screens for summer. We use AC in the car for several months, and heat for about three days.

What we can learn from aspen trees is that we are interconnected. We may not see that connectedness, but it is there. Like a neighbor whose lawn service too often blows leaves and debris into our yards, what we do in our towns and in our country has effect on neighboring areas and countries. In the Pacific Ocean there is a debris field of plastic and other assorted trash that, last I knew, was the size of Texas. A former parishioner of mine flew regularly to Japan on business. Some years ago, pilots would make an announcement to look out the window now to see this debris from the air. If you looked too late you missed it. Now, he said, you have a couple hours to look out and see it.

While most of this debris may be from only a handful of countries, the point is that what we do can have an effect beyond ourselves and beyond our own time. How connected do you see yourself with the rest of our country and of our world? How connected do you see yourself with future generations whom you do not and cannot know? How connected do you see yourself with those long before you who have bequeathed some wonderful things to you and some not so wonderful?

In the Lutheran faith we baptize infants. Our baptismal theology says they are as much a part of the church, the Christian community as the oldest members. Baptism is that initiation rite into the church, the Christian community. In baptism the congregation has a role. There is, in baptism, an interconnectedness to us all in the church. There is also an interconnectedness to Jesus Christ and the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. There is an interconnectedness to the God who claims us as God’s own in baptism.
This is the interconnectedness that never fails. Like the roots of an aspen grove this is not always visible. We see it best gathered around the table of Jesus; young and old, rich and poor, all races, all gender identities, all levels of intelligence and mental and physical performance. There we see the interconnectedness to each other and to the Christ who is present with us. I can’t think of any place that welcomes such a diverse group and does so with regularity.

Sometimes we need to look at our roots. Our roots as Christians. They tie us to community and to One far above yet with that community. For most of us this all started somewhere in our past. Next time you witness a baptism and say, “We welcome you into the body of Christ and the mission we share: join us in giving thanks and praise to God and bearing God’s creative and redeeming words to all the world”, remember you too were once so welcomed. As Jesus Christ lowered himself to the form of a servant, you and I often need to look beneath many surfaces in the world and in life to see this same Jesus who continues to serve often in and through low places.

We share an interconnectedness in Word and water with this one being baptized regardless of their age. Remember, too, our interconnectedness not with 47,000+ but with over a two and a half billion people in the world today and the billions all the centuries before you and all the centuries after you. It just might lead us to be more careful with plastic and trash. It just might make us better neighbors for our world and for the future world.

We seem to have little trouble in admitting we are sinners. We do it together most weeks in worship. There may even be a bit of comfort in doing so together as we can look around and know we are not alone in our status as a sinner.

What if instead we had to confess our sins; that is the acts and inactions we committed in the past week. Those deeds and things left undone of which we are aware; how would we feel about putting those out there? Would we feel an act of solidarity with our fellow sinners who are doing the same? Or would we keep score to see who among us was the worst sinner. (No worries, we will not be starting this practice any time soon.)

While being able to readily admit our sinfulness, we are not big on admitting the sins. Not even to ourselves. Just as a for instance, saying “I am a sinner” may flow easily from our lips but saying, “I am a racist” seems unable to come out, much less flow out with the same ease as confessing sinfulness.

And, oh yes, we are sinners. And, oh yes, we are racists. And, one final “oh yes”: “Oh yes, this very definitely includes me. Even though I have publicly admitted this before, this still struggles to be said in any out loud way through speech or writing. I/we cannot be part of our system of living as middle class white Americans without participating in a system that in many was depends upon racism.

This sounds absolutely horrifying and terrible, doesn’t it? Yes, it does because yes, it is. My point here, however, is almost less racism and more sin. As we glibly acknowledge our sinfulness, we far too often fail to understand how horrifying and terrible is sin and sinfulness. We seem to understand “I am a sinner” as synonymous with “I am not perfect.” Sinfulness is a far more serious and deeper issue than imperfection. Adding 2 + 2 and getting 5 is a mistake. Treating others unjustly and living in our protected narcissistic bubbles is horrendous. Ask any who have suffered from our sins.

We confess our sinfulness because we need constant reminder of who we are beneath our well-groomed surface. We have a need to confess our sins if we have any hope to overcome them or grow. Sometimes these do need to be said out loud to someone.

We have great hope in the God of Jesus Christ for forgiveness of our sinfulness. If God can forgive this very basic condition of ours, we need to trust that God can forgive those individual sins, those deep sins that cause hurt to others. Do we trust God enough, do we trust God’s grace enough to be able to admit not only our sinfulness, but our very sins? Putting them out there can be as much for ourselves as it can be for God or even some other. We cannot hope to overcome that which we refuse to acknowledge.

Admitting not only who we are but what we have done, what we do, is the first step to recovery; that is, the first step to dealing with and overcoming our sin. Sin is profoundly injurious to the sinned against, and at times the sinner. Grave and great that sin is, even greater is God’s grace and forgiveness.