The Root

Oh Bother…

A few weeks ago, I was doing something really impressive:

I was taking out the garbage.

For the rest of this story, I need you to remember that it was really impressive.

I was taking out the garbage.

And while I was taking out the garbage I had to smush down a bunch of cardboard in the bin.

So I took my hands like that, and…

Felt a tremendous pop in my left thumb.

I screamed loud enough in pain that the dog next door started barking at me…

For a few weeks, I took the approach to medicine endorsed by countless men across our land:

Absolutely nothing.

But it kept…bothering me.

You know what it is to have something bother you?

Where it’s not debilitating.

It’s not excruciating.

It’s just…a bother.

And usually when something’s bothering you like that, it’s telling you that something’s wrong and needs to be addressed.

So long story short, after a trip to the Orthopedist on Friday, I learned that I ruptured a tendon in my thumb.

Taking out the garbage.

How great is that!

But it bothered me to the point that I had to do something about it.

And believe it or not, that’s a part of what we’re going to look at today on this second Sunday of Advent.

Isaiah Describes the Messiah

Again, prophets are interesting people.

They use kind of like performance art and metaphor and poetry to get their point across to the people.

So here’s the image that Isaiah chooses to describe the coming Messiah to the people of Isreal:

The shoot from the stump of Jesse.

Isaiah 11:1 “A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse, and a branch shall grow out of his roots.”

Now, this is interesting.

David, son of Jesse, was a king that everyone looked up to.

He was, as it will be written later, a man after God’s own heart.

He was the king to end all Kings for Isreal.

And so Isaiah is saying that the roots of this Messiah, the kind of undergirding of this Messiah’s reign, is going to be a lot like King David’s.

But then he goes on to describe the root of the Messiah’s kingdom in a bit more detail:

What’s at the root of this kind of Messiah?

Righteousness

This Messiah is all about keeping things right.

It’s about things being fair, and equal, and just.

Faithfulness

This messiah will stick with us.

This messiah, and by extension his kingdom, is one where people are loyal to each other.

But then Isaiah goes into further detail on the main root of the Kingdom of the Messiah:

Peace

Peace defined:

Google:

Freedom from disturbance; tranquility

A state or period in which there is no war or a war has ended.

But, perhaps it will surprise us to learn, Isaiah had a bit of a deeper understanding of peace than Google does:

Shalom:

Well being, completeness, wholeness.

To be at peace is to have all your needs met.

It’s hard to be at peace when you are hungry.

To be at peace is to have some sense of completeness in you.

It’s hard to be at peace when you’re feeling guilty about something, when there’s something out there nagging at your soul.

To be at peace is to be wholly well.

Body, mind, soul, spirit.

That’s what shalom looks like.

And that’s what Isaiah says the coming reign of the Messiah is going to be like: total shalom.

The wolf will live with the lamb.

The leopard will lie down with the kid.

The calf and the lion will feed together.

And…a little child shall lead them.

Of course, Isaiah is pointing to Jesus and his coming reign.

But…a question arises:

If Peace is at the root of Jesus, what does peace look like for us?

A lack of peace should bother us.

A boat attack in the news.

Listening to the news on my commute this week, there has been a story in the news about our military attacking a boat of accused drug runners.

And it appears that after the initial attack, a second attack was launched while survivors were clinging to the wreckage.

Predictably, the partisan spin machines are all at work picking this story apart and staking their claims, and trying to convince everyone else of their views.

So I’m not going to speak about that attack from a partisan place.

I’m going to lay this out a bit in light of the root of Jesse:

If it turns out that our military looked down and saw survivors in the water, and decided to attack them anyway: that lack of peace should bother us.

If it turns out that there were actually no drugs on the boat, and that these were just fishermen: that lack of peace should bother us.

And if it turns out that they were actually drug runners, and they were bringing those drugs right to our shores and we attacked and killed them: that lack of peace should bother us.

In other words, no matter what partisan spin comes from this, the fact that we are as a nation invested in taking the lives of other people away, should probably bother us if we’re in the peaceful kingdom of the Messiah.

Like a thumb injured from totally legitimate and awesome means…our violent nature should bother us to the point of taking action.

But speaking of those politicians…

The violence of our politics.

Violence can be more than just bombs and guns and fists and guns.

Too often, way too often, we are violent toward each other in what we say.

Our words themselves carry violence.

And so the politics of our age, man it should really bother us, right?

The way some of our politicians speak about our fellow Americans, whether they agree with us or not, should really bother us.

The way our politicians have taught some of us to speak about each other, whether they agree with us or not, should really bother us.

The way that our politics has become about who can win, rather than who has the best idea, that should really bother us.

I think something that Democrats and Republicans both can agree on: if shalom peace is well being, completeness, and wholeness, well then our politics is a million miles away from shalom, isn’t it?

And again, like a thumb that’s injured for TOTALLY LEGITIMATE reasons, that should bother us to the point of action.

The violence we do to each other in the church.

Who is it that’s welcome here, and who is it that’s not?

Because for a long while now, the church of Jesus, the one who said let the children come to me and do not hinder them, has been doing a really good job of setting boundaries around who is welcome, and who is not.

To stand at the door and suggest that someone isn’t welcome in the community of Christ is it’s own, disturbing kind of violence.

So when the church at large has told someone they don’t belong because of who they are, be they gay, straight, trans, or anything on that spectrum, to insist that they don’t belong here is violence, and it should bother us.

When after generations of knowing the truth of this statement, that 11:00 on Sunday is the most segregated hour in America, that is violence, and it should bother us.

When we, whether out loud, or just in the silence of our hearts, wonder “what’s that person doing here?” It is it’s own kind of violence, and it should bother us.

Especially in light of what Paul wrote to us in Romans:

Romans 15:7 “Welcome one another, therefore, just as Christ has welcomed you, for the glory of God.”

Give me a thumbs up if you know where this is going, because I can’t. Like an injured thumb for totally legitimate and awesome reasons, it should bother us to the point of action.

Perhaps, perhaps by now you’re wondering:

What kind of action should our lack of peace bother us into?

Well, perhaps we should let Isaiah tell us.

Let the Little Child Lead Us

What would it look like if our vision of peace in our world was modeled after the Christ child, and who he ultimately grew up to be?

Jesus showed patience to the religious leaders who attacked him.

Are the politicians of our world out to get you and your view points?

You’re in good company.

And the answer is not to attack back, to degrade, to speak ill, to over-hype, or to traffic in fear.

The answer, according to the way Jesus dealt with the Pharisees, is to patiently, and quietly, insist on the kingdom way of life.

It’s to continue to be around those folks: for how much the Pharisees and Jesus disagreed, he sure was around them a lot!

Almost as if the relationship was more important than the view point.

We could do that.

Because if you think our politics is messed up and violent, you should see the world Jesus came from.

And yet, he modeled peace.

Jesus made sure that his last words on the cross were forgiveness for those who had nailed him there.

I mean, seriously!

Hanging on a Roman execution stake, Jesus has quite the choice for his last words, doesn’t he?

Forget these guys!

Hey Dad! Send the lightning bolts!

Jesus could have literally said to those people: see you in hell.

And yet…

Father, forgive them.

They don’t know what they’re doing.

Rather than violence or vengeance, Jesus speaks forgiveness over the very people who have murdered him.

Because there’s peace at the root of Jesse.

Has someone wronged you?

Is there someone that you’ve been violent towards, whether in the way you speak or the thoughts you harbor?

Maybe it’s time to let the little child lead.

Maybe it’s time to speak true, authentic, and lasting forgiveness over that person.

Even if you’re right!

Even if they don’t deserve it!

Even, apparently, if they don’t know what they did.

Forgive them.

Because that’s what the root of Jesse looks like for us.

Jesus willingly took on the pain and suffering of that cross so that there could be peace between God and us.

There’s a reason our order of service goes the way it does.

We say our confession together, admitting to Christ how much we did not in fact know what we were doing…

We hear the truth of the Gospel spoken over us: In Jesus Christ, you are forgiven!

And then…we pass the peace.

Because Christ made sure that the most important place for peace in this world had it: between us and our God.

Where once there was enmity, now there is peace.

Where once there was sin, now there is grace.

Where once there was violence toward God, now there is only God’s shalom.

You are at peace with God.

And because of that, we share that peace with as many people as we possibly can.

We share it with the politicians of this age, whether we think they deserve it or not, because the root of Jesse is peace.

We share it with those who the Church at large has said don’t belong, and we welcome them here because the root of Jesse is peace.

We share it with our neighbors, the ones who may even be spewing violence toward us, because the root of Jesse is peace.

And, not insignificantly, we share that peace with ourselves, whether we are frustrated with ourselves for our lack of righteousness, our lack of faithfulness, or even our frustration for injuring our thumb by taking out the garbage…

Christ would not endorse our being violent toward ourselves for our shortcomings, especially not in the light of His grace.

Lets let that child lead the way.