Advent with Isaiah

(Isaiah 2.1-5) 1 December, 2019
© Neil Millar

During the Sundays of Advent, all the Old Testament readings come from the prophet Isaiah, and in these texts, we are given some of the most evocative words and images in scripture. Words that have inspired communities across our planet. I’ve sat outside the United Nations building in New York, and visited a village in the back blocks of Mozambique, and in both places, I came across art pieces that’d clearly been inspired by today’s reading. In NY, the sculpture of a sword being bent and beaten into a plow; in Mozambique it was a bunch of guns that’d been welded into a saxophone. In the Swords into Ploughshares Museum in Canada, there’s a WW2 tank that was converted into a snow plough – literally. The Jamaican reggae musician Peter Tosh used to play with a Stratocaster guitar built around an M-16 rifle. Nitrogen mustards are chemotherapy agents derived from mustard gas, a chemical warfare agent. These are all examples of how an image from today’s reading has captivated artists and inspired efforts in reconciliation and peacemaking.

More broadly, the book of Isaiah has a unique position in the church. It’s the most quoted book in the New Testament, for example. There are at least 250 NT passages in which Isaiah is referred to. John Sawyer (1996.21) points out that ‘the range of contexts and subjects for which the earliest Christian writers found a relevant quotation from Isaiah is astonishing’; they include the nativity, John the Baptist, the miracles, the parables, the temple, the passion, the resurrection, prayer, preaching, mission, salvation, forgiveness, faith, and the last judgment. Isaiah’s name appears frequently in the NT (over twenty times), a fact which puts him in company with the likes of Moses, David and Elijah. On occasions, his feelings are even noted!! ‘Isaiah cried out’ … Paul writes in Romans 9.7; ‘Isaiah was so bold as to say…’ he adds a chapter later (10.20).

We referred to Isaiah as a prophet, but Jerome (c. 342-420), an influential figure in the early history of the Bible, suggest that he should ‘be called an evangelist rather than a prophet because he describes all the mysteries of Christ and the Church so clearly that you would think he is composing a history of what has already happened’!! Comments like this help to explain why Isaiah is prescribed for reading in Advent, and also, why this book is sometimes dubbed ‘the fifth gospel’. 

 Well, it’s on the readings from this ‘fifth gospel’ that our reflections will concentrate this Advent. It’s my hope that they will continue to form and guide us as we prepare ourselves for the celebration of Christ’s coming to the world, and I want to turn now to the glorious passage that Gwen just read – Isaiah 2.1-5.

Having read a larger slab of the book for context this week, the first thing that strikes me is that these verses come as a flash of bright light against a dark and ominous horizon. If the opening chapter of Isaiah had been included in the reading, and if Gwen had read on, we’d have heard that our text was preceded and followed by words of stinging rebuke. The people of that time had rebelled. According to Isaiah they’re dishonest; playing at religion; using God. It’s gone to the dogs, everyone’s on the make – self-serving, self-seeking. It’s as bad as it was in Sodom and Gomorrah, Isaiah says, and God’s had a gut full.  ‘Trample my courts no more; bringing offering is futile, incense is an abomination to me … your appointed festivals my soul hates’, Yahweh laments in chapter 1 (12-15), ‘they have become a burden to me, I am weary of bearing them’. This accusation continues in chapter 2: ‘The land is filled with idols, they bow down to the work of their hands, to what their own fingers have made’.

On and on they go, these descriptions of ‘self-destructive stupidity’ (Brueggemann 1998.19), of corruption, compromise, injustice, alienation and destruction. There are pages of it in the 66 chapters of this book, it’s a depressing read, and the consequences dire – judgment is coming, says Isaiah. We will reap what we sow. But then, as if from nowhere, there arise these flashes of possibility; invitations to repentance, together with the promise of a glorious future: ‘Come let us  go up to the mountain of the LORD, to the house of the God of Jacob; that he may teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths…’ (2.3). It’s as if the prophet looks for a moment beyond the degradation and impending desolation to Yahweh’s larger, long-term intention. We’ll, read a number of these passages in upcoming weeks and, much like Martin Luther King’s ‘I have a dream’ speech, I hope they serve to sustain our hope – to fire our imaginations and inspire our action – in circumstances, which, for all the years of separation, are not so different from Isaiah’s.

In the vision recounted today, the prophet anticipates a time when Jerusalem will loom large in the world, when the city will be marked again by faithfulness and justice, and, like a magnet, draw the nations of the world. They ‘will want to come…’, Brueggemann writes (1998.25) ‘because in Jerusalem Yahweh is fully present as the source of all life’. Filled with life and God’s abiding peace, nations will no longer need to defend against each other. ‘They shall beat their swords into ploughshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war no more’, the prophet proclaims.

In this vision, Jerusalem is the source of universal blessing – ‘the seat of the world’s best possibility’ (Brueggemann 1998.25). In this vision, Mount Zion and its restored city symbolize the advent of God’s reign – a new era of justice and peace. That era was inaugurated, we believe, with the coming of Christ, yet that era, we know, is far from fully consummated. Nations are still jostling for power, still sharpening ‘swords’; daily we read of deceit and corruption in politics, of greed in business and banking, of conflict in communities and families… A world of peace and cooperation?? Yeah, right! So, what of this vision? What does it amount to, in the end?

As if, anticipating this response even then, Isaiah offered a second invitation; verse 5: ‘O house of Jacob, come, let us walk in the light of the Lord!’ And this suggests there’s work here for us to do. For Isaiah, the ‘light of the Lord’ was shed by the Law and commandments – God’s instruction to care for the widow, the poor, the orphan and the land. For us, this light is further intensified, humanly embodied in the self-giving, all-loving life of Christ. But Isaiah’s invitation for his people and Christ’s to us is the same. We too are called to ‘ascend the mountain of the Lord’ (as it were), to listen for God’s instruction, and to enact it, to walk in the light by living as peacemakers, advocates, and community builders. We’re called to participate in the vision’s realization, the coming to pass of the promise – in creative and courageous ways, to turn swords into ploughshares.

There are ways we’re already seeking to do this. I think of Marion, Bill and others hammering away at the sharp edges of punitive drug policy, seeking to change laws that merely serve to curse those already oppressed by addiction. I think of Pat and Carla working together to find accommodation that allows for a more peaceable way of living. I think of Liz, courageously engaging a troubling time, by drawing a peace card for her new community – turning anguish into gift. And, others of you caring for friends, neighbours, children, spouses pierced by spears of depression, anxiety, dementia, illness…Patiently participating in the work of transformation, of turning swords into ploughshares …And there’s more we can be part of, as Isaiah’s dream takes hold of our imagination, grabs hold of our lives.

One final story of living in the light of this vision, a story that touches directly on Advent themes. It concerns this star. It was given to me by a friend who’d been travelling in the Middle East and I’ll summarize the explanation that came with it: ‘This star is made from fragments of glass bottles shattered during Israeli invasions of Bethlehem. The glass is collected from the rubble by some of the poorest of the poor in Bethlehem and created into pieces by community art workshops. The star is a sign of hope in a broken world. It speaks of the coming of God incarnate, picking up what seemed worthless and hopeless and transforming it into a beautiful creation. It is his birth, here in Bethlehem two thousand years ago, which gives us strength to continue to pick up these broken pieces and to transform them into messengers of hope, peace and justice.’ So, as we begin today our preparation for the advent of the Prince of Peace, let us commit ourselves anew to walking in the light, playing our part in realizing God’s dream.

Reference

Breuggemann, W (1998) Isaiah 1-19, Westminster John Know Press, Louisville, KY.

Advent with Isaiah