Sermon: Countercultural Preparation

Isaiah 11:1-9

Countercultural Preparation

James Sledge                                                                                       December 10, 2017

How many Christmas shows have you seen so far? Many that I grew up with have already made their annual appearance. Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, How the Grinch Stole Christmas, and A Charlie Brown Christmas have all run at least once. It’s amazing their staying power. Rudolph first ran in 1964, and Charlie Brown the following year.

I’ve seen these programs so many times that I can easily recall scenes from them. In A Charlie Brown Christmas, Linus explains the true meaning of Christmas to Charlie Brown, reciting from the gospel of Luke. “And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be taxed.”

The story Linus tells is well known to many of us. Like the Christmas shows themselves, we encounter it every season. It is warm and familiar. For me it evokes memories of long ago Christmas pageants and my father reading it before bed on Christmas Eve.

The story is nostalgic for many of us, and so we may overlook how odd and subversive it is. In the midst of imperial Roman might, in the shadow of a Caesar called “Lord, Savior, Son of God,” a rival king is born, a different Savior and Son of God. Amidst the pageantry and royal finery of empire, the birth of a competing Lord is witnessed only by shepherds.

The contrast is absurd. Caesar, with all the might a of superpower at his disposal versus a baby, his parents, and a small entourage of dirty shepherds. What chance does this new king have? Why tell such a ridiculous story? Why would anyone choose to align themselves with Jesus rather than the emperor and all his vast wealth and power?

Our reading from Isaiah this morning has its own fanciful, absurd scenario. Wolf and lamb, leopard and kid, lion and calf, and children playing with poisonous snakes. It’s lovely and all. It makes for a great painting, but if anything, it is even more ridiculous than Jesus as an alternative to Caesar. It can’t really happen. It’s against the natural order of things.

But there is another scene in our reading that is much less absurd. It speaks of one from the house of David who will have God’s spirit, the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord. This one will truly discern the will of God and so bring justice for the poor and weak. Yes, the scene lapses into a bit of hyperbole at the end, but the core of it is not at all fanciful, not at all ridiculous. Indeed we claim these very things for those we baptize.

Our baptism liturgy instructs the pastor to lay hands on each person baptized and say, “O Lord, uphold Susan by your Holy Spirit. Give her the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord, the spirit of joy in your presence, both now and forever.” We say that God gives all those in Christ the very same gifts that the prophet promises for the ruler who will bring new life to Israel.

The prophet Isaiah speaks in a time when all is not well for the people of God. The glory days of David and Solomon are centuries past. Their kingdom had since split in two with Israel, the larger kingdom, to the north, its capital at Samaria. Jerusalem was capital of the southern nation of Judah, where Isaiah lived. 

The Assyrian Empire wiped out Israel during Isaiah’s time and threatened to do the same to Judah. Isaiah correctly predicted their failure, but that did not cure what ailed Judah. The ruling class was corrupt, interested mostly in enriching itself, often on the backs of the poor and vulnerable. (Sound familiar?) Like other prophets, Isaiah condemned the monarchy and longed for a leader who would fear God, who would lift up the poor and the meek.

King Hezekiah was a brief ray of hope, but it did not last. And his successor not only set the benchmark for horrible kings but reigned longer than any other in Judah or Israel’s history. The house of Jesse had truly been cut down and reduced to a stump.

A shoot shall come from the stump of Jesse. But it did not come in Isaiah’s lifetime. It did not come for centuries. But Isaiah had been such a good prophet, had been correct about so many things, that the people of God held onto his promise, awaiting an anointed one, a messiah, finally to take the stage.

Christians say that Jesus finally fulfills that promise. He is God’s alternative to Caesar, to the ways of Caesar-like power and might. Jesus certainly has the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord. He is especially attuned the poor and weak and the lost. He has no interest in enriching himself and is even willing to die for his people.

Yet the second scene in Isaiah’s prophecy tarries. A shoot may have come from the stump, but wolves still attack lambs and leopards baby goats. Predators still stalk their prey. The powerful still target the poor and weak and vulnerable. Hurting and destroying happen all the time. And we’re in another Advent, preparing for that day when wolf lives with lamb, when they will not hurt or destroy, and the earth will be full of the knowledge of the Lord.
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Back in October, a group of church members gathered to share lunch and talk about this year’s Advent. We looked at the Isaiah passages we’re preaching on and the Advent candle lighting liturgy taken from those passages. Out of our discussions arose the theme on the bulletin. So too emerged the idea of Advent as a countercultural sort of preparation, one where stillness, trusting in God, being Christ to others, and relinquishing control are all forms of getting ready.

A day when wolf lives with lamb and there is no hurting or destroying, when rulers and nations no longer embrace Caesar-like ways of force and might, is not in our power to bring. No political party, no ideology, no policy or proposal can do that. Only God can heal the brokenness of our world, which is why the world needs a Messiah, a Savior.

Acknowledging that we cannot fix the world may lead some into cynicism, but for people of faith, such acknowledgement can be freeing. If the end of the story is safely in the hands of a God who would die for our sakes, then we are freed to relinquish control, to practice stillness. If it does not all rest on us, then time in prayer and stillness may be the most important sort of preparation we can do, something that attunes and aligns us with God.

 And while we cannot create a world where predators no longer stalk their prey, we can be Christ to others. We can be light in the darkness. In our baptisms, we are given the Spirit, and so we can be kind and gentle in a world filled with pushing and shoving. We can be generous and loving in a world filled with greed and hatred. We can offer beauty to a world with far too much ugliness. We can model stillness, rest, Sabbath, and contentment for a world fill with frenzied, anxious, non-stop striving. We can offer unconditional welcome and acceptance to those who’ve internalized the world’s message of never quite measuring up.

As individuals in our day to day lives, as a community of faith reaching out to those in pain, we can be Christ to hurting people and a hurting world, even as we trust in God to finally bring the day when darkness and pain and suffering and greed and hatred are no more.

“We light this candle as a sign of the coming light of Christ. Advent means coming. We are preparing ourselves for the day when The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them.”

How are you preparing? How shall we prepare together?