Sermon 12/9/07
Prince of Peace: Comfort and Challenge - Isaiah 11:1-10, Matthew 3:1-12
(view lectionary notes for this text)
This Advent, we’re focusing on the theme: Come, Prince of Peace. We need peace, don’t we? Peace is a word that we hear a lot during this season, especially in the church. We know that we are anticipating the birth of the one called the Prince of Peace. When the angels herald Christ's birth, they sing of peace for the whole world. Our Christmas cards contain messages of peace. Our carols talk about bringing peace on earth.
But, in truth, sometimes it seems these dreams of peace are just that: dreams that are too idealistic, too unrealistic to be worthy our serious consideration. Do you even believe peace is possible? I don’t think most of us do. Peace makes a lovely image to think about, but isn’t very grounded in the reality of the world, right? Since 9/11, our world has changed significantly, and the relative peace we once experienced in the United States – or at least the relative sense of security, seems like another lifetime, doesn't it? Fear, anxiety, stress, worry over the unknown, worry over our safety, worry over the future has replaced the calm. We're worried as travelers, worried as vacationers. We're worried on public transportation and in crowded public spaces. We're worried at special events where many people gather together. Then, we look around our world, and we see war and death and fighting. We struggle as men and women are sent across the world, separated from loved ones, to serve in the military. We struggle as we see images of destruction, and hear reports of chaos and instability.
And our worries aren't just about what's going on over there. Here, at home, in our country, we face a kind of unrest and division that I've not known before, not in my own lifetime at least. And in our own families, within the walls of our own homes, and within the confines of our own minds, we are not at peace with ourselves, with our neighbors, or with God. We are full of fear and anxiety. We are depressed, we are worried. We are making ourselves literally and figuratively sick with stress. Peace? Is it possible?
Today our scripture lessons bring us two answers to that question, the question of peace. Isaiah has the peace I think of when I think of the coming Prince of Peace. This passage from Isaiah is one of my very favorites. It’s the passage called ‘the peaceable kingdom’. It’s a vision of a world peace that warms me. Isaiah begins by talking about a messiah, a savior who is coming. This savior will be a leader in the family tree of Jesse, father of David. God’s spirit will rest on this messiah, and this messiah will have wisdom, understanding, counsel, might, and knowledge. After Isaiah describes this coming messiah, he talks about what the world will be like when the messiah comes: The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard with the kid, the calf with the lion, and a little child shall lead them. The cow and bear graze together, babies can safely play by snake holes, and there will be no hurt or destruction on God’s world. The perfect picture of peace.
In Matthew, on the other hand, we find no such Advent images of peace and tranquility. Instead, in John the Baptist, we get vipers, axes and fire. Last week we were at the end of Matthew’s gospel. This week we are near the beginning, just before John baptizes Jesus and Jesus begins his public ministry. John is preaching the same gospel that Jesus will preach: “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near,” although Jesus will preach it with a very different tone. People were coming out into the desert to hear John, and they were being baptized by him, a symbolic act showing that they were confessing their sins and changing their lives. But when the Pharisees and Sadducees came to John, he had no welcome words for them, perhaps suspecting that they were there to check up on him and test him as they would so often with Jesus. “You brood of vipers,” John exclaims, “who warned you to flee from the wrath to come?” Still, John calls them to repent too, saying that they wouldn’t be safe just because they are Jews by birth – they have to bear their own fruit from good living, and can’t rely on their ancestors. John goes on to describe what it is like with the messiah just about to arrive. “Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees,” John says, “every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. [The messiah’s] winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor and . . . the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.” John doesn’t seem to have room in his vision of the messiah for the wolf and lamb to play together. He doesn’t talk about peace, but about justice – finally everybody getting what they deserve. John leaves us not comforted by picturesque scenes, but challenged: what kind of fruit are our lives bearing?
We have two Advent messages here. Isaiah says when the Messiah comes peace comes. The lasting images in this passage are of the wolf and lamb, the child and the snake, all living peacefully together. And John says when the Messiah comes justice comes. It’s hard to shake that image of the ax lying at the root of the tree. Who is right? John or Isaiah?
Well, we talked about our images of peace. But what are our images of justice? I think often our first thoughts are of the justice system. Judges and lawyers and trials and criminals and people getting justice – going to jail, paying the consequences for their crimes. When we think about people getting what they deserve in terms of justice, we’re usually thinking in terms of punishment – that’s what’s deserved. Not by us, perhaps, but by the bad guys. Getting what’s coming to them. But getting what’s deserved has another sense to it, of course. You can get what you deserve in the sense of getting something that has previously been denied to you. If you’ve been getting paid low wages, and you finally earn enough to make a living wage, you’re finally getting what you deserve – you’re getting justice. John pictured a messiah who would bring about long-awaited justice, and he expected that people of faith who worked against justice would find themselves in a bit of trouble with Jesus. We know that the messiah that came in the person Jesus wasn’t even quite what John expected – next week we’ll see John asking Jesus to confirm for sure that he’s the messiah. But we also know that Jesus certainly had a sense of justice that would resonate with John. Jesus talked about the humble being exalted and the last being first in God’s kingdom, and he spoke always as an advocate for the poor and to challenge the rich. The messiah does bring justice.
John wanted justice. Isaiah wanted peace. Perhaps surprise of Advent is that Jesus brings both. The surprise of Advent is that Jesus is a messiah, a savior, like neither John nor Isaiah quite grasps fully. He brings both comfort and challenge – it’s often said that Jesus come to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable! Jesus, the messiah who wasn’t what anyone expected, who was more than anyone expected, brings peace and justice. Our God is dynamic – the God we worship is not an either/or God, but a both/and God. Peace and justice are what the Christ-child brings.
In the United Methodist Church, this idea of Peace with Justice is very important to us. We even have a special Sunday in May that where we’ll celebrate ministries that focus on peace with justice. This history of this Sunday reads in part as follows: "The United Methodist Church believes God's love for the world is an active and engaged love, a love seeking justice and liberty. We cannot just be observers. So we care enough about people's lives to risk interpreting God's love, to take a stand, to call each of us into a response, no matter how controversial or complex. The Church helps us think and act out a faith perspective, not just responding to all the other "mind-makers-up" that exist in our society." (1) On a similar note, Rev. Edward Markquart writes, "Anytime the Spirit of the Prince of Peace lives inside of you, it results in justice. You cannot have peace without justice . . . When the Prince of Peace is inside of you, you work for justice for the poor, the oppressed, and the millions or billions on earth who are hungry and starving and don't have clean water or gainful employment. If there is no justice, there is no peace. Justice always involves work; you work for justice. Justice doesn't naturally happen on its own. Justice does not just fall in your lap, like an apple falling from a tree. You work at planting the tree, watering the tree, pruning the tree, so that apples will fall in your lap. And so it is with God's justice." (2)
What are we to do? Where do we come in? If we want peace, we work for justice. If we want justice, we work for peace. As we wait for the Prince of Peace this Advent season, we can help to usher the Christ-child in by working for peace ourselves in the meantime. And while the concept of world peace might sound like the impossible dream to us, Isaiah and John have shown us just where to start. We work for peace by working for justice. We work for peace by seeking out the best for the poor, the needy, the meek, the ones who have been overlooked and unloved. In this season, we cannot pretend we do not know of the needs of others. Everywhere we look, we can find people in need, causes to support, charities to donate to, organizations who are trying desperately to meet the needs of adults and children and families who just can't make it through the cold winter season without a community pulling together. We'd do well to greet these reminders of those who have less with generosity. But the Prince of Peace demands of us even more than that - peace with justice takes more than charity. Peace demands that we create a world where those who are outside our circles can feel welcomed inside. Justice demands that we find out why there are so many people living so close by who go hungry, when we have so much. Peace demands that we cross the boundaries of race and class that typically keep God's children separated from one another. Justice demands we don't just shrug our shoulders, and forget to work for change.
Today, we light a candle for peace. The root of Jesse, the Christ, is standing as a signal to us. Come, Prince of Peace. Amen.
(1) United Methodist Book of Resolutions, 1996.
(2) Edward Markquart, http://www.sermonsfromseattle.com/series_a_visions_for_peace.htm