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Home by Luke Parker
Home a place where you are accepted, a place where you belong. A place where the outside pain and frustration should be held at bay in the safety of those who love and care for you.
As we have explored the preliminary prophetic poems of Isaiah, a theme began to show itself. The kingdom of God has no room for those who place themselves as more valuable than those who are broken and hurting.
After this long series of poems pronouncing God’s judgment on the enemies of Judah, Isaiah aims for something different. Isaiah takes aim at death itself.
Isaiah tells us of the destruction of the burial shroud that has been engulfing the people of Israel.
This burial cloth has been turned from a cloak of death to a tablecloth for a great feast.
Today’s reading comes from Isiah 25:6-9
In Jerusalem,[a] the Lord of Heaven’s Armies
9 In that day the people will proclaim,
The funeral has become a feast! Isaiah’s stunning eschatological hope proclaims that when death has been swallowed up forever, God will wipe away the tears from all faces.
John the Revelator incorporates Isaiah’s poem in the culmination of his grand vision:
And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes. Death shall be no more; neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away. (Revelation 21:4)
In this poem, Isaiah anticipates a day when death will be destroyed by God and the heirs of salvation will rejoice and say, “This is what we’ve been waiting for!” And that’s what Advent is all about—anticipating and waiting.
But as those who believe that the anticipated Christ has arrived in the person of Jesus of Nazareth, we are invited to live in the joyful tension of the “now and not yet.” While we await the final redemption of all things in Christ, we celebrate the fact that the feast has already begun.
As Christians, we are invited into this great feast whenever we participate in communion. When Jesus first sat down with the disciples in the upper room, he began the eternal participation of the feast that celebrates the end of death!
This Christmas, we are home. We are invited to take the hand of the one who conquered death and come home and sit at the table of the one who loves and accepts us.
Isaiah 41:13
For I hold you by your right hand—
The Lion lays down with the Lamb.
Music: Salt of the Sound, Oh Holy Night Dear Gravity: Layer Upon Layer
Quite possibly my favourite passage in the book of Isaiah; I come back to it in my mind time and time again.
As we continue our journey through the foretelling of the coming of King Jesus, Isaiah gives us a glimpse into what a peaceable kingdom would look like. Before we read today's passage, I do see what Isaiah is talking about when he talks about a lion lying down with a lamb.
Isaiah imagines a human world as if it were an animal Kingdom. This is referred to as Zoomorphism.
You can see zoomorphism represented in movies and stories such as Winnie the Pooh, where each animal has a human personality. The timid one is Piglet, the downtrodden one is a donkey, the excitable Tigger is a Tiger, and a wise old owl is watching over the Hundred Acre Wood.
We also see this used in the Scripture. One clear example is when the Holy Spirit descended like a dove.
In this scripture we are about to read, we aren’t seeing an ultimate peaceable heaven where a lion is no longer a carnivore and will eat grass alongside a lamb. If we literalize this poem, we are missing the point.
Isaiah sees the predatory nature of humanity. As we have already seen, Isaiah is deeply concerned with how the rich and powerful treat the vulnerable and the weak.
Today’s reading comes from Isaiah 11:6-9
The wolf will live with the lamb, the leopard will lie down with the goat, the calf and the lion and the yearling[a] together; and a little child will lead them. 7 The cow will feed with the bear, their young will lie down together, and the lion will eat straw like the ox. 8 The infant will play near the cobra’s den, and the young child will put its hand into the viper’s nest. 9 They will neither harm nor destroy on all my holy mountain, for the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea.
But do lions really ever lie down with lambs? Yes, they do! We see it in the ministry of Jesus. Zacchaeus, the chief tax collector in Jericho, was a wolf who worked for the Roman beast and got rich by cheating the poor. But when Jesus came to his house, the wolf in his heart was slain. When Zacchaeus pledged to give away half of his fortune and make four-fold restitution, the wolf was lying down with the lamb.
Saul of Tarsus was a lion violently devouring the flock of God, but when he encountered Jesus on the Damascus road, he not only stopped attacking the flock, he became a faithful shepherd. In Christ, Isaiah’s dream comes true, and the lion does lie down with the Lamb. Suppose the world is still dangerous because human predators behave beastly toward the vulnerable. In that case, it is because the earth is not yet full of the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea…so we continue to pray.
Take some time to imagine the scenario of the lion lying down with the lamb. Where in our world do we see an imbalance of power taking advantage of the weak?
Are you, at this moment, at the aching end of an imbalance of power? Pray for wisdom on how to move toward a proper resolution and find a way out of that situation.
Now lets us take a moment to search our hearts and see if there are times in our relationships with our family, friends or business partners when we may be on the hurtful end of a relationship. Perhaps, at times, we can be the lion.
Advent Day 4. The Root Of Jesse. Isaiah 11:1-5, 10
Music By:
Simon Wester, Encounter
Tree of Jesse
You may have seen the Orthodox Icon of the Tree of Jesse in passing.
This beautiful icon depicts the ancestors of Jesus Christ, shown in a branching tree which rises from Jesse of Bethlehem, the father of King David. It is the original use of the family tree as a schematic representation of a genealogy.
The Tree of Jesse originates in a passage in the biblical Book of Isaiah, which metaphorically describes the descent of the Messiah and is accepted by Christians as referring to Jesus. The various figures depicted in the lineage of Jesus are drawn from those names listed in the Gospel of Matthew and the Gospel of Luke.
Some versions of the icon depict the tree growing up out of a sleeping man—Jesse, the father of King David and the predecessor of the Davidic line. The hero, known as the "Tree of Jesse," is derived from our Advent scripture reading for today.
Isaiah begins the root of Jesse's poem with a description of a branch bearing fruit coming up from an old dead stump.
An image of a stump that used to be a great tree, filled with the promise of Justice and righteousness, now is an old, rotten remnant of what was once beautiful. What was once filled with the promises of prosperity, Justice, and hope is now a shadow of what was promised.
Somehow and someway, there will be the life that comes from the once great kingdom that has since fallen. Only Three Generations removed from King David did the genealogy begin its descent into darkness, and now, 300 years later, the once great tree, filled with the fruit of righteousness and Justice, is but an old, dead stump.
Seasons, And Advent and Lent Podcast by Willow Park Church
The Land of Galilee had the misfortune of being in the corridor between the Northern and Southern empires of the ancient near east, so, as you could imagine, Galilee would be the ground which many boots of battle would march along, and the fertile farmers’ fields of Galilee would often turn into bloody battlefields for the competing armies.
Brian Zahnd, in the book The Anticipated Christ, from which this podcast is greatly inspired, writes that The valley of Megiddo (Armageddon) would eventually become a grim poetic way of speaking of war itself. No doubt there was plenty of gloom and anguish in the land of Zebulun and Naphtali in the days of Isaiah. But the poet imagines a future when those living in the gloom of Galilee would see a great light and rejoice as people do when a long war is finally over.
Sometimes our lives can feel like a great battleground! Wars are fought, and we seem to be caught in the middle.
Places like Ukraine and Russia, Myanmar (mee-ann-mar), Afghanistan, Burkina Faso, the Congo, and Syria name a few are all gripped by war with innocent lives being lost.
During advent, we can anticipate a great day when the long war will finally be over, and the peace of God's kingdom will reign.
Today's reading comes from Isaiah 9:1-7
Clearly, Isaiah is anticipating a Messiah, a King from the line of David that will be characterized by justice and great peace.
Isaiah is confident that this will come to pass, and he heaps of praises for the future king.
Everlasting Father,
And though he doesn’t expressly say so, we can probably assume that Isaiah had pinned his hopes on Hezekiah, the son of King Ahaz, as the messianic child “born unto us.” Hezekiah did turn out to be a rare, good king of Judah, but he wasn’t the Messiah. It would be another 700 years before the people of Israel would meet their true King.
Brian also says… It’s only in the light of Christ that we can look back upon Isaiah’s poem and fully appreciate its prophetic significance.
For example, when Isaiah says, “the government shall be upon his shoulders,” we would first regard this as a poetic way of saying that the messianic king will possess full authority. But in the light of Christ, we see the cross—indeed, the cross is the government of God!
People may hope that Christ would come to rule apart from the Cross, but Christ and his rule of peace are brought from the cross.
The shape of Christ’s government is eternally cruciform. Messiah is not just another king ruling with a sword—that would keep the world in the gloom and anguish of Iron Age Galilee. It was when Jesus began to preach the good news of the peaceable kingdom that the messianic light began to shine in Galilee.
Let us take a few moments to pray for those who live in war-torn countries that they might know Jesus, who rules with love and peace and knows the pain of hatred and war. Pray that they might know that the King that we anticipate this Christmas walks with them through pain and suffering and will be a comfort in those times of deep distress and fear.
Lord Jesus, we confess that you truly are the Prince of Peace and that the government upon your shoulders is the cross you bore. Give us the grace to walk in the light of the cross that we might live as subjects of the King, who is a Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, and Prince of Peace. Amen.
Music:
Dear Gravity, Is there a way?
Seasons, And Advent and Lent Podcast by Willow Park Church
Peace
In every epic drama, there are antagonists who threaten goodness and menace justice
In the Bible, we find the likes of Pharaoh, Goliath, Nebuchadnezzar, King Herod, and Pontius Pilate among the villains who are in league with the very embodiment of evil itself—the devil. It’s with these enemies that the heroes of the Bible—Moses, David, Daniel, John the Baptist, and most of all, Jesus—must struggle and prevail.
The story contained in the scriptures wastes no time in introducing us to the main antagonist, that will stop at nothing to bring division between God and humans.
What the enemy comes to do is bring war when there is peace, pain when there is health and division when there is stability.
As we gather during Advent, we anticipate the peace that God intended in the Garden.
Over the next few days, we will be reading from the prophet Isaiah.
Seven centuries before Christ, Isaiah of Jerusalem began a poem with these words: In days to come. He doesn’t know when and even less how, but inspired by the Spirit, Isaiah imagines the kingdom of Israel becoming the true kingdom of God and gaining preeminence over the nations.
The kingdom of God—will become famous the world over for its wisdom. A king will come to Jerusalem who possesses the very wisdom of Yahweh, and he will teach the way of God to the nations. And what will he teach? He will teach the way of peace.
Those who hear the message of the Kingdom of God will know to abandon the folly of war.
For the first three centuries, Christians knew that the kingdom of God and the kingdom of death and destruction of war were incompatible.
With war abandoned in response to the teaching of the wise king, weapons of war are converted into instruments of agriculture.
Since Cain slew Able in the fields, the place of peace and growth was turned into a place of war. Instead of plowshares, man has made swords of destruction.
Now, the prince of peace comes to correct and restore. Turning swords back into plowshares.
When the first Christians read Isaiah’s swords to plowshares poem, they recognized the wise king as Jesus and realized that God’s kingdom of peace had been inaugurated. The Apostle Paul said that Christ Jesus “became for us wisdom from God.” (1 Corinthians 1:30)
For the Early Christians, War no longer belonged in the everyday. There was no longer the need to participate in the destruction that the Kingdoms of this world brought because they were baptized into the new kingdom of peace. We Christians, by living lives, surrendered to the anticipated King, have left our ways of conflict behind.
As Jesus tells us in Johns's Gospel.
Peace, I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.
As Isaiah told us, In the days to come, we will one day know a peace that passes understanding.
Music:
Salt of The Sound: Angel Gabriels Message
Seasons, And Advent and Lent Podcast by Willow Park Church
We are living in a secular age. The sacred is pushed to the periphery. To keep The Sacred at the center of our lives can, at times, seem like an insurmountable task.
To be a religious person in an irreligious world may be the last act of rebellion. But as we take moments out of our busy schedule to sit down in the sacred, may we see the hope, Joy, peace and love of Christ form around us throughout this Christmas season.
In the Christian calendar, Christmas is anticipated by four weeks of waiting.
This is what we call Advent.
During Advent, we await the arrival of the Messiah of whom the Hebrew prophets spoke.
During Advent, we allow the messianic poems of the Hebrew prophets to seep deeply into our souls.
With Isaiah and the great company of Hebrew prophets, we wait for the one who will bruise the serpent’s head.
We wait for Immanuel—God with us.
We wait for the King to come to Bethlehem, who will shepherd God’s people.
We wait for the child born unto us upon whose shoulders the government will rest; we wait for the Prince of Peace in whose kingdom the lion lays down with the lamb.
Advent is about waiting—a practice most of us in our secular age struggle with, but a holy practice we would be wise to cultivate.
This Advent, we wait on the one who accepted us. The one who gave up his life for us to bring Hope, Joy, Peace and Love.
Today's reading comes from Romans chapter 15:7-13.
7 Accept one another, then, just as Christ accepted you, in order to bring praise to God. 8 For I tell you that Christ has become a servant of the Jews[b] on behalf of God’s truth, so that the promises made to the patriarchs might be confirmed 9 and, moreover, that the Gentiles might glorify God for his mercy. As it is written:
“Therefore I will praise you among the Gentiles;
10 Again, it says,
“Rejoice, you Gentiles, with his people.”[d]
11 And again,
“Praise the Lord, all you Gentiles;
12 And again, Isaiah says,
“The Root of Jesse will spring up,
13 May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.
And so on Easter Sunday, our forty-six-day journey with Jesus through Lent has come to an end and we begin with the first day of the new creation! The day that Jesus rose from the grave!
Our long journey ended yesterday with Jesus laid to rest in a new tomb within the walled garden of Joseph of Arimathea near Golgotha.
History and archeology suggest to us that in the time of Jesus, Golgotha was an abandoned quarry used as a garbage dump.
So we could say it this way: Jesus, the stone rejected by the builders, was crucified in a quarry turned garbage dump, but he was buried as seed within a verdant garden.
When Jesus is first seen alive in that garden on Easter morning, Mary Magdalene mistakes him for the gardener. But, in fact, it’s no mistake at all. Jesus is the gardener who turns garbage dumps into gardens!
Jesus is not a conductor punching tickets for a train ride to heaven. Christian hope is not about getting from earth to heaven, it’s about getting heaven to earth.
Jesus is not a lawyer to get us out of a legal jam with an angry judge. God is not mad at sinners. Jesus told Mary to tell his disciples that his Father was their Father too!
Jesus is not a banker making loans from his surplus righteousness.
Jesus is a gardener! A gardener cultivating resurrection life in all who will come to him. The conductor, lawyer, and banker metaphors are mostly false, giving a distorted view of salvation. The gardener metaphor is beautiful as it faithfully depicts the process of salvation in our lives.
A gardener’s work is earthy and intimate. Gardeners have their hands in the humus. (We are humans from the hummus.) Conductors, lawyers and bankers are concerned with abstract and impersonal things like tickets, laws, and money. But gardeners handle living things with living hands. Jesus is not afraid to get his hands dirty in the humus of humanity.
That Jesus is a gardener with a good heart and a green thumb should change your perspective.
I promise you that your life is not so blighted that Jesus can’t nurture you into something beautiful. The empty tomb is the open door that leads us away from the ugly world of Gehennas and garbage dumps and back home to the God-intended garden. No one has captured the idea of Easter as the inauguration of a new world with Christ as the gardener better than G.K. Chesterton. I always anticipate Easter by reading this passage from The Everlasting Man. On the third day, the friends of Christ coming at daybreak to the place found the grave empty and the stone rolled away. In varying ways they realized the new wonder; the world had died in the night. What they were looking at was the first day of a new creation, with a new heaven and a new earth;
Zahnd, Brian. The Unvarnished Jesus: A Lenten Journey (pp. 189-191). Kindle Edition.
Today we will take a moment to reflect on our Lenten journey.
On Good Friday we think about one thing: the crucifixion of Jesus Christ. This is the epicenter of Christian faith. At the core of Christianity we don’t find perennial religion, meditation techniques, or a course in ethics, but a crucifixion.
This is the enduring scandal of the gospel.
The gospel is not motivational talks about happy marriages, being debt free, and achieving your destiny. That all belongs to the broader world of proverbial wisdom, and it’s fine as far as it goes, but it has little or nothing to do with the gospel.
The gospel is about the cross and the cross is a scandal.
When the Apostle Paul told the Corinthians that he had determined to know nothing among them except Jesus Christ and him crucified, he admitted that the cross was often viewed as a scandal and folly. So be it. Any attempt to make Christianity less offensive and more palatable by de-emphasizing the cross is a betrayal of Jesus Christ himself. So today above all days we look unflinchingly at Christ crucified. To enter deep into the mystery of the cross is to encounter the greatest revelation of who God is.
The Cross is the death by which Christ conquers Death.
It’s the abolition of war and violence. It’s the supreme demonstration of the love of God. It’s the re-founding of the world around an axis of love. It’s the enduring model of co-suffering love we are to follow. It’s the eternal moment in which the sin of the world is forgiven.
The cross is where Jesus reveals God as saviour.
The cross is what God in Christ endures as he forgives. The cross is where the sin of the world coalesced into a hideous singularity so that it might be forgiven en masse. The cross is where the world violently sinned its sins in the body of the Son of God, and where he absorbed it all, praying, “Father, forgive them.” The cross is both ugly and beautiful. It’s as ugly as human sin and as beautiful as divine love—but in the end love and beauty win.
Lord Jesus, as we look at you on the cross, with your arms outstretched in an accepting embrace, we pray, forgive us, Lord, for we know not what we do. Amen.
Today is Maundy (or mandate) Thursday, the day when Jesus at the Last Supper gave his disciples a new and supreme mandate to love one another.
At the Last Supper Jesus re-appropriated the ancient Passover meal commemorating Israel’s liberation from bondage in Egypt, giving us the sacramental meal of Communion by which we commemorate the Lord’s death and partake of his body and blood.
Of course the disciples didn’t know this was the last supper before Jesus’ suffering and death—they were still anticipating the arrival of the kingdom of God in the way of conventional conquest. Yet Jesus was explicit about this being the last meal of an old age, telling his disciples that he would not eat or drink again until the kingdom of God had come. And thus we see the significance of Jesus eating and drinking with his disciples following his resurrection! Sadly, the poignancy of this final meal was marred by a dispute among the disciples over who would be regarded as the greatest in the coming kingdom. Once again, for the last time before his death, Jesus stresses to his obtuse disciples that what is counted as greatness in the empires of the world is not what is counted as greatness in the kingdom of God.
Caesar and all his successors measure greatness by power—power to kill, power to obtain, power to control. But in the kingdom of Christ, greatness is measured by love, humility, and service. Jesus modelled this kingdom version of greatness when he washed his disciples’ feet during the Last Supper. Despite the disciples’ inability to fully grasp what he was saying and doing, Jesus spoke warmly about how they had stayed with him through his trials. As a result they are to eat and drink at his table in his kingdom. (Notice that in Jesus’ kingdom the central place of sacrament has shifted from temple to table.)
Finally Jesus says they will sit on twelve thrones and judge the reconfigured Israel that is the church. I often think of this passage of Scripture when I’m in a church that has statues or icons of the twelve Apostles ringing the interior dome, looking down upon the congregation. In the primacy we give to apostolic writings and practices, the Apostles do indeed judge the church.
Zahnd, Brian. The Unvarnished Jesus: A Lenten Journey (pp. 181-183).
Salt Of The Sound - Be Thou My Vision.
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