The Root and Shoot of Jesse and the Story that Makes Sense of Our Lives

In Isaiah 11 where we are this Sunday, Isaiah has this vision where he sees a field of huge trees that have been felled to the ground. He also sees a small shoot growing out of a stump. It is a picture of God's judgment and yet the hope God always provides his people. The field of felled trees is a picture of his judgment on Assyria and the nations (some of which Judah were hoping would save them). They were wondering if there was any hope for them. God gives them a promise in the picture of the little shoot that is growing out of one of the stumps.

What is he telling them and us? He is saying there is hope in the one who is both the root and the shoot of Jesse. In brief, God promised Israel and all of us that he was going to save the world through a child (see Genesis 3:15) and then later that this child would come through Jesse who had a son named David. God said that eventually a king would come through David's line who would save the whole world. So Jesus made Jesse, making him the root of Jesse, and Jesus descended from Jesse through David making him the shoot of Jesse.

That boy-king came into the world through Mary and Joseph when the angel said to Joseph not to be afraid to take his woman and marry her because the child born in her was conceived by the Holy Spirit and that the birth was the fulfillment of Isaiah's prophecy that "a virgin would conceive and his name was to be called Emmanuel which meant God with us."

So you say what does it mean for our lives? All of us come to church partly with the desire to find a story that is bigger than ourselves that will make sense of our lives. Isaiah and the Bible says there is a story. It is the story of creation, fall, redemption and restoration through a little shoot that grows and looks in the eyes of the world to be very insignificant. 

In chapter 53, Isaiah says Jesus was like "a young plant, a root out of dry ground. He had no form or majesty that we should look at him, and no beauty that we should desire him." Yet from that unprepossessing shoot (or plant, Isaiah mixes his metaphors) will come the salvation of the entire world, our universe and us if we will only root our lives in him. He is the root and shoot of our lives, the alpha and the omega, the beginning and end. Do you see, this is the story, the narrative that can make sense of our lives and world. Does it sound too good to be true?

Here is how it worked in the life of C.S. Lewis. He had a conversation late at night with his good friend J.R.R. Tolkien. Lewis was still an agnostic and Tolkien was a devout Catholic. They were talking late into the night when they decided to take a walk on Addison's Way behind Magdalene College in Oxford. I went there years ago to re-live it in my mind.

Lewis and Tolkien were joined by another colleague, a Christian named Hugo Dyson. They discussed the resurrection and Tolkien made the point to Lewis that he had no problem acknowledging the power of these resurrection narratives as myth – indeed, much of his scholarly work depended on that acknowledgment. 

Tolkien replied that the Christian resurrection was a “true myth.” By this he did not mean that Christianity is a myth, but that it is real history that fulfills the longings that we have in the fairy tales (or myths, or our superheroes) we experience as children or adults. 

He meant that the resurrection is cosmic in its scope, that it explains the basic questions of life, and it does so using a fantastical twist in the story – a human being coming back to life. Now, Tolkien said to Lewis that you must see that this myth has the added weight of having actually happened. Within days of this conversation Lewis became a Christian, an experience he likened to "slipping into a pair of new shoes that somehow feel as if they’ve been comfortably worn for years.”

The question to take away is do you have a large enough story that answers the big questions about life, death, suffering, guilt, forgiveness and God?  Lewis found that when he allowed his life to slip into this story and to be shaped by it, it was like slipping into a pair of new shoes that felt as if they've been worn for years. It's the old, old story that is always true and new! 

Lancelot Andrewes and the meaning of "Emmanuel"

In my study of Isaiah this week, I stumbled across an individual whom I knew nothing about. His name is Lancelot Andrewes. He lived in the 1600's and was a pastor and one of the most brilliant men of his age. In one post he was described as the "lead mule" in the task of translating the King James Version of the Bible. While the King James isn't used to the same degree as it was in days past, it is actually one of the most beautiful translations of the Bible and is on par with some of Shakespeare's writings. He also preached before kings and queens. He was a particularly devout man and his devotional writings are considered to be classics.

I found this interesting historical note. In 1603 in London the bubonic plague was raging. In his parish of 4000 members, by year's end 2,878 had perished. I read one of his sermons given at Nativity on Isaiah 7 and the meaning of Emmanuel.  To begin, he said that the order in the name "Emmanuel" is significant. He said "El" means "God", "Emmanu" means "with us". In other words he is the "with us God." Then Andrewes says (and I have paraphrased it because the old English can be hard to follow):

God chooses to name himself in Jesus. He is the “with us God.” He puts “us” first in his name just as he did in his life. Though "El", i.e. God is the principal part of the word Emmanuel, there is a meaning in it.  And what can it be but this? That in the very name we might read that we are dearer to Him than Himself. We are a part of it. We are the forepart of it, and He is the latter. He behind, and we are before. What was greater, his humility or his love? It is hard to say. Both are unspeakable. 

Think on that! The "with us God" chooses to put "us" before Himself. The "with-us" God came to be born in a feeding trough to humble parents in a backwater town. The "with-us" God came in Jesus and took up the towel and stooped down to wash his disciples feet. The "with us God" counts us dearer than Himself. He is behind and we are before. And we can ask with Andrewes, what was greater, his humility or is love? It is indeed unspeakable. John Wesley when he died said the best word of all is Emmanuel! Can we say the same?

The Ugliness of Christmas

In Taiwan, Christmas is something of a non-event. Most people will be working all day. I miss the festivities of Christmas--the lighted streets, the Christmas carols in the shops, wrapped presents under a tree, and the general merriment. I grew up on the farm, and Christmas was a time when the work slowed down, when the snow and cold forced everyone indoors. If I had my way, the Christmas tree would go up a week before Thanksgiving and come down the week before Easter. My wife likes Christmas, but isn't quite so enthusiastic about my desire for the tree being up so long. So someday when I'm not looking, the tree comes down in mid-February. If I could, it would be "always Christmas"--to quote one of the characters in Lewis' Narnia series. 

But amidst the portrayals of warm, attractive fireplaces in the winter, beautifully wrapped presents, and Jesus being born (according to the portrayal in many greeting cards) in what appears like a comfy stable, back lit with studio lights, there is a dark side. In reality, Christmas was quite ugly. That's because I Timothy 1:15 says, "Here is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance. Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners--of whom I am the worst." One of the most popular songs is "White Christmas", but the song belies the darkness of the meaning of Christmas. 

We should meditate deeply on a dark, cold night in a small nondescript village in Palestine where a lovely young woman gave birth to a a baby in the most unsanitary, wretched conditions imaginable, standing in the filth and manure of a stable. The little cloths wrapped around his body would have had the stench of animals, of fires burning to keep people warm. It was a filthy place of pain, blood, cold, manure, straw and odors. Why? Because the Bible said he came down to the stench of our own sins to bear them away on a cross 33 years later.  

It also reminded me of the death of Ronny Smith who had been one of the pastors at the Austin City Stone Church where my daughter Katie and her husband attend. He had gone to Benghazi out of his love for Christ and the Libyans. One of his students Yomna Zentan, an 18-year old student attending the Libyan-owned school, told reporters that he was "more like a best friend or a family member", adding; "After everything that happened in Libya, we were losing hope and he was the only one who was supporting us, motivating us, telling us that as long as we studied--everything could be okay. He was the silver lining. He dedicated so much of his time for all his students." When he was gunned down while jogging by militants, he was a sobering reminder of the ugliness of Christmas. Happily, Jesus came to take away the sin of the world. Someday, it will all be gone. May we all think on these things and invite our friends to the services because Christmas is truly ugly and beautiful at the same time.