Advent Two Isaiah 11.1-10, Romans 15.4-13 and Matthew 3.1-12
Each year, hundreds of trees are nominated for the Woodland Trust’s Tree of the Year contest: a contest which celebrates special trees and the stories behind them.
Out of a list including an ancient yew, a tree surviving on the north circular, and a sycamore growing on top of Colchester Castle, Liverpool’s Allerton Oak won was crowned England’s winner.
Many of these trees reflect nature’s tenacity for life - such as the fallen tree in Richmond Park. Having been blown over in a great storm, this particular oak now lies on the horizontal; its last remaining roots enabling it to flourish with it branches reaching upwards from one side of the trunk.
Even more striking, especially given today’s reading from Isaiah, is research being done on living tree stumps.
July’s Economist described such survivors as the ‘arboreal undead’ continuing with a ‘zombie-like existence’ for decades without either a trunk or foliage.
The article reports scientific research carried on one such stump in New Zealand: in the depts of a forest, a stump keeps live by holding onto the roots of neighbouring trees. This grafted root system allows water and resources to be exchanged.
Trees survive as part of this super-organism.
In Isaiah, we hear that new growth will spring up from the stump of the tree of Jesse. The house and tribe of Jesse may appear to be dead; but it will rise again. It is part of a wider ecosystem.
God is at work.
Hope is springing up.
There will be new growth, a new branch, a new shoot.
Such an image is at the heart of this Advent season.
We are to be encouraged and to persevere because God has promised to make all things new.
That which appears irreparably damage will be restored.
The harm caused by our selfishness and lack of love will be renewed.
The language of Advent isn’t soothing or pious or stoical.
It goes to the very depths of the trials and injustices of our world. And there, in the place, when all seems lifeless, there is new hope.
All that is damaged is brought to light, judged and made new.
We find comfort in this: in restoration, justice and peace.
Today, we remember in particular the witness of the prophets: those who, like Isaiah, described the consequences of human life lived apart from the commandments to love.
Isaiah along with Micah, Amos and Jeremiah continually cry out for justice and mercy; they remind God’s people of the demands of the most vulnerable; they hold the powerful to account and call out exploitation.
Just as individual trees survive within a super-organism where water and resources are exchanged, so are we grafted into an ecosystem of interdependence.
This is a vision of God’s Kingdom: a new shoot reveals the tenacity of God’s gift of life and hope; a new branch expresses the way power protects and raises up. As the prophet writes, ‘with righteousness he shall judge the poor, and decide with equity for the meek of the earth’.
What Isaiah is described is not simply a renewed earthly kingdom. However wise and mighty, no ruler can accomplish the fullness of this vision.
Instead, Isaiah is presenting us with something cosmic: a vision of reconciliation that cannot be brought about by human effort and goodwill alone. it is a vision of a world transformed and renewed through the power and gift of God.
God is determined to fulfil this pledge of new life and restoration, justice and peace. God is determined to reconcile all things to Godself - choosing to come among as Word made flesh.
We need to prepare our hearts and minds for that celebration. In the words of today’s collect, ‘O Lord, raise up, we pray, your power and come among us’.
Part of that preparation is through the witness of John the Baptist: he appears in the wilderness, part of the ancient lineage of prophets.
Like Isaiah and those who have gone before him, he urges people to repent: hat is to turn back to God’s ways of love; to choose life.
This act of turning or returning is not simply a matter for the individual: it is about building a life together which reflects God’s justice and mercy; it is about establishing those bond of mutual support; it echoes the prophetic cry for righteousness and equity.
Just like our forest ecosystem, there is a level of interdependence; but fundamentally we our nourished - or succoured - by the power of God.
John’s words are hopeful: inviting us to be so rooted and grafted in God’s love that we might restored; and having been revived by the gift of grace, that we too might make possible God’s justice, bringing to others life and hope.
John’s words are also challenging: he speaks of an axe lying at the root of the trees. Our human spheres of life and activity will fall under God’s judgement; human spheres of leadership, the religious, political, social and economic, will also be tested against God’s measure of righteousness.
Following the words and examples of John and the prophets before him, we are to take a stand against corruption, lies, abuse and decadence. Instead, we are to be fruitful in seeking to bind up and heal; restore hope and bring mercy.
Over the coming weeks, we will be reminded that this message of hope and deliverance will not be found in grand palaces or centres of political power. The one who comes as flesh of our flesh, as Word dwelling amongst us, this king will be born into obscurity and humility.
In him, the hopes of the prophets are fulfilled. We live in the light of such hope - allowing it to shape our life together: shaping our homes, churches and all that makes up our common life. Dare we say, may our social, economic and political life also echo Christ’s reign.
Paul writes to the Romans of the way in which we are grafted onto this tree of God’s kingdom: and two we are to reveal the fruit of that in our lives.
If the sap of God’s kingdom is coursing through our networks, then we are indeed to welcome others, just as we have been made welcome by God through Christ.
At the heart of this, is the table fellowship that we share. As we break bread together, our common life reveals something of the equity and mercy, hope and love of God’s kingdom.
As we eat together, we face our problems and share our burdens; we find comfort and wisdom; solidarity and joy.
As we eat together, we learn how to love and serve each other with humility and care. Here rich and poor, young and old are made welcome. Here markers of our social status and class are overcome. Here, whatever our native tongue or martial status, we are one. Irrespective of gender or health, sexuality or occupation we are invited to eat together.
Here in broken bread, our behaviour and character are shaped not by the values and priorities of this world; but by the friendship of God’s Kingdom.
In broken bread there is hope and challenge. For here, the advent of our Lord is fulfilled. Jesus Christ, is here bringing justice and righteousness. As his Church, as his body, may our lives and relationships be so transformed that our world - with all its struggles and upheavals might glimpse , God’s peaceable Kingdom our life together.
© Julie Gittoes 2019
