Advent 2A
December 8, 2019
Isaiah 11:1-10
Matthew 3:1-12
INTRODUCTION
This second
Sunday in Advent we always encounter John the Baptist, Jesus’ eccentric cousin.
He implores us to repent of our sinful ways, even as he points toward someone
who is even more powerful than he is, who will baptize not with water, but with
fire. Like last week, it’s not an especially warm and fuzzy seasonal message,
but it is still one that we need to hear!
But today I’m
interested more in Isaiah. This text we’re about to hear about the peaceable
kingdom is a famous one, often depicted in art, and with good reason. Isaiah’s
poetry about a lamb and a wolf lying down together, and other predators and
their prey dwelling together without conflict is indeed a lovely one. Before we
get to that, though, I want to give you a little context for it, so you can get
even more out of it.
First of all,
it will start with an image of a stump, and here’s why. At this point in
history, the northern kingdom of Israel has likely already been destroyed, and
immediately preceding this passage, Isaiah has told about how God will, by
means of the Assyrian army, completely decimate Judah, the southern kingdom, as
well. The image he uses for this is a forest which will be chopped down. Here
is the last verse of chapter 10: “God will hack down the thickets of the forest
with an ax, and Lebanon [in this case, a metaphor for the tree-like haughtiness
of Zion’s leaders] with its majestic trees will fall.” Then directly after
that, we’ll hear about what is to come of that stump that remains. Isaiah will
call it “the stump of Jesse.” Anyone know who Jesse is? He is the father of the
famous King David, the line from whom Israel was expecting a messiah, a savior,
to come. But not much can grow from a stump, right? It is a hopeless image that
says, “Here is something that was, but is no more. It is impossible for you to
get your Davidic king, because only a stump remains of that line.” And yet,
Isaiah has a different message – one of a new David, a leader on whom
the Spirit of the Lord rests. Isaiah’s poem describes how a kingdom under that
ruler would be. The Psalm, too, will describe what that king will be like.
As you listen,
consider how this message – both Isaiah’s and John the Baptist’s message of
repentance – might apply to your life or to our world today. Isaiah is speaking
to an 8th century BC audience, and John to the 1st
century, but what about that message transcends time, and still finds relevance
for us today?
[READ]
Grace to you and peace from God our
Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
God’s people
Israel dearly wanted a king. They thought it would give them, as a nation, more
legitimacy to have a king like all the other nations had. God was against it at
first, trying several other ideas, but finally, God gave in. It started off
okay – after King Saul came King David, who, despite being sinful and flawed
also did a lot of good. But after that… it didn’t go so well. With few exceptions,
bad king after bad king was raised up, each leading the people further and
further astray. The people longed for another king like David, someone from
David’s own lineage, who would reunite God’s people. Yet all they saw was more
and more destruction, and the messianic, Davidic king they longed for (that is,
a king who would be anointed with the Spirit) was looking less and less likely.
Enter Isaiah.
This part of Isaiah was written in the 8th century BCE. At this
point, the northern kingdom of Israel had likely already been destroyed by the
Assyrian army, and it looked like Judah, the southern kingdom would be next. And
here comes this prophet to make some sense out of what was happening. “God is
using the Assyrians,” he explained, “to decimate this unfaithful people, until
there is only a mere remnant remaining.” (You know, real cheery stuff.) He
tells them this by means of a metaphor, comparing the proud of Jerusalem (all
those bad kings) to a forest of trees that will be chopped down. “He will hack
down the thickets of the forest with an ax, and Lebanon with its majestic trees
will fall.” Merry Christmas, everyone! When you see the stump that is left
after you cut down your tree this year, I hope you will recall this vivid and
distinctively Advent image from the prophet Isaiah!
I say that
facetiously, but I actually really do hope that – because what comes next, the
beautiful text we heard a moment ago, is one of the most hopeful in the Bible…
but it is only hopeful if we first bring to mind that stump. To these people
longing for a Davidic king to come and save them, Isaiah offers this image of a
stump, a quintessential visual for death and hopelessness. And I do – when I
cut down a Christmas tree, I do look at that stump with a sort of longing and sadness
(in fact, Michael sometimes asks me to say a prayer for the tree before we
start sawing!). Because although I have of course never experienced what the
Israelites are experiencing – the bloody loss of a people and along with it a
centuries-long hope for salvation – still, sometimes life can feel like that. It
feels like that each time a marriage ends, or when we give away the clothes our
children have outgrown, knowing we’ll never see them at that age again, or when
we move out of a house with so many memories, or give up a driver’s license
(and with it, our freedom), or retire, or have to give up a hobby. Any time
something we have loved and valued, or a dream we’d hoped for, comes to an end,
and we don’t yet know or understand what lies ahead… it can feel like that
stump. Hope lost. No recognizable way forward.
Isaiah doesn’t
leave us there, though: “A shoot shall come out of the stump of Jesse, and a
branch shall grow out of his roots.” With that promise, what the Israelites
hear is, “You will get that ruler you have longed for. That stump, all that
death and destruction, is not the end of your hope – it is the means by which
God is bringing about something new.” And, he goes on, “The spirit of the Lord
shall rest on [this ruler], the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit
of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord.” In
other words, this ruler will be exactly what they have always longed for, what
they have waited for. This ruler will not be swayed by appearances or rumors,
but will give justice to the poor and just deserts to the tyrannical. Natural predators
and their prey will dwell peacefully together, without fear of violence. In his
beautiful poem, Isaiah describes an image of peace between enemy nations that
would have really resonated with 8th century residents of Judah, who
likely felt like sheep living amongst wolves.
That’s what it
said to the 8th century BCE, but it resonates with us today, too,
doesn’t it? As 21st century Christians, we see the fulfillment of
this prophecy most profoundly in Jesus: a godly ruler whose ministry is marked
by the presence and activity of the Holy Spirit, whose teachings urge us toward
repentance, and forgiveness, and love of neighbor – toward all those things
that do, finally, bring about peace in our hearts and in our world. That’s the
big picture way to view it, but this image of hope speaks also to those
day-to-day struggles we mentioned before, that feel like hopeless stumps in our
lives, assuring us that all those things that threaten to destroy us
(metaphorically and literally) will no longer be a threat.
Perhaps even
more powerfully, this vision of hope and renewal can speak to us as a nation,
as it spoke to the nation of God’s people all those years ago. Because you see,
even though we believe that Jesus has fulfilled the hope that Isaiah describes,
he doesn’t do so in a way that makes the prophecy obsolete. We still long
for leadership that is wise, just, and dignified – just as Matthew’s world did,
and the apostles Paul’s. We still long for administration at every level
that can bring about peace and heal divisions and bring opposing parties
together for one common, shared, purpose.
But here’s the
thing: we look to our elected and appointed leaders for this, but this
responsibility does not only rest on their shoulders. The people of Israel
longed for a ruler on whom rested the Spirit of the Lord – the spirit of wisdom
and understanding, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and
the fear of the Lord. Does anyone recognize those words – not only from having
just heard them in Isaiah, but from anywhere else? They are the words we pray
over people when they are baptized, and then again in their confirmation. In
other words, when we are baptized, and again when we are confirmed, we
receive that very same Spirit that Isaiah promised a leader would have, the
very same Spirit Jesus had.
You see, friends, because of what
Christ has done for us, we have become the shoot coming out of the stump of
Jesse. We have the capacity to bring hope to a weary world full of death
and stumps. We are the means by which Jesus brings the peace and reconciliation
that will lead to the healing of the world. It’s a big responsibility, one
which can only be fulfilled by the power and the grace of God working through
us, by that Spirit resting upon us. It starts with the repentance John
preaches, with searching our own hearts for the ways they need to be purified
with the Holy Spirit and with fire. It continues with practicing forgiveness
for ourselves and others, and with finding ways to love our adversaries and
pray for them. And it is all possible because of that little child who leads
us, that grown man who hangs on a cross for us, the loving God who promises to
be with us.
We are going to
fall short, of course. That’s where the grace of God comes in, to catch us when
we fall: to confront us when we aren’t self-aware enough to repent, to
encourage us when we aren’t yet strong enough to forgive, to empower us when we
aren’t sure how to stand up for what is faithful, or to give us wisdom to
figure out what is faithful in the first place. By God’s grace, we are that
shoot, but God is the one who makes us to grow, bigger and stronger and more
faithful each day, that we might fulfill our call. May we put our trust in that
gracious gift.
Let us pray… O
Branch of Jesse, you have called us, by your Spirit, to the ministry of love
and healing of this world. Save us from the depth of our own pain, and give us
victory over the death and stumps that threaten to defeat us, so that we would
be agents of hope and healing to a broken world. In the name of the Father and
the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
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