Walking into Advent

As we walk into Advent with Celebrate the Gift as our theme for this season, I want to walk through some verses from
Isaiah 11. This chapter invites us to watch for newness outside our constricted, frightened logic.

It begins: Out of the stump of Jesse..., Jesse being David’s father. David’s family and dynasty had run out in failure; no king, no future, no royal possibility, only a stump. But, says the poet, the stump will produce a shoot of new life that was not expected.

The poem requires us to take a deep breath because it is reality-defining. What we usually have is authority with knowledge, but no wisdom; with data, but no understanding. The poet takes a long pause. Since we are already into God’s impossibilities, the big impossibility is lined out:

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 bear shall graze, their young shall lie down together; and the lion shall eat straw like the ox (Isaiah 11:6-7).

The old enmities, the old appetites of the food chain, the old assumptions of the survival of the meanest, all of that is subverted. The wild will not stay vicious, because the coming one, marked by righteousness and justice, will overrule raw power in the interest of new possibility. Finally, the young child will toy with the asp and the adder; nobody will get hurt because the poison will be removed from the world. This shoot will override all business as usual. All manner of things will be well.

This poem concerns the Christmas baby who refuses Rome’s rule of force, opening the world to healing, freedom, forgiveness and joy. So try this in Advent: don’t just enjoy these words, celebrate the gift by doing them. This is the surprising power of Advent. It is not just marveling at the newness God will give. You can
be a carrier of wisdom and not just knowledge, be an agent of understanding, and not just data. Take on the love of the Lord, a sense that there is an "out-beyond us" who finally governs. Watch for the poor and make a difference with them. Watch for the meek and be a voice for the voiceless.

The nursing child will play over the hole of the asp (Isaiah 11:8).

The child and the poem evoke a leap beyond our control. And it ends this way:

They will not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain; for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea (Isaiah 11:9).

That end of the poem is our beginning, beginning beyond simple logic. Celebrate the Gift - the One who turns our worlds upside down, facing joy together.