23rd Sunday after Pentecost
Isaiah 65:17-25
For I am about to create new heavens and a new earth; the former things shall not be remembered or come to mind. But be glad and rejoice forever in what I am creating; for I am about to create Jerusalem as a joy, and its people as a delight. I will rejoice in Jerusalem, and delight in my people; no more shall the sound of weeping be heard in it, or the cry of distress. No more shall there be in it an infant that lives but a few days, or an old person who does not live out a lifetime; for one who dies at a hundred years will be considered a youth, and one who falls short of a hundred will be considered accursed. They shall build houses and inhabit them; they shall plant vineyards and eat their fruit. They shall not build and another inhabit; they shall not plant and another eat; for like the days of a tree shall the days of my people be, and my chosen shall long enjoy the work of their hands. They shall not labor in vain, or bear children for calamity; for they shall be offspring blessed by God— and their descendants as well. Before they call, I will answer, while they are yet speaking I will hear. The wolf and the lamb shall feed together, the lion shall eat straw like the ox; but the serpent—its food shall be dust! They shall not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain, says our God.
Winter Is Coming
You’ll have to forgive me if I wax poetic about snow for a little bit. This is only my second winter living in a place where it snows, and yes I’ve been told multiple times already that it’s not actually winter yet. Winter doesn’t officially start until December 21st. But, regardless, all of this is still really new for me. I’m sure the novelty will wear off at some point, but for now, I’m enjoying the experience. I realize, though, that I still have a lot to learn about it. One thing that I noticed this last week was how much variety there was with the different kinds of snow. I saw corn snow last year, you know the little balls of snow that kind of look like hail, but they’re softer? We had some of that this last week, but on Tuesday, while I was driving around, I noticed snowflakes landing on my windshield, actual snowflakes, you know, the kind you see in science textbooks, symmetrical, six-sided snowflake shapes that we use for Christmas decorations every year? I mean, they were really tiny, but I could still make out the shapes, and I was just utterly fascinated by them as I was sitting at a red light, leaning forward so that I could get closer to the windshield so I could look at them all. I don’t remember seeing snowflakes like that last winter.
Towards the end of the week, we were getting these kind of feathery snowflakes, they were these tiny clusters of little crystals, like someone had taken a bunch of white feathers and ran them through a food processor. I noticed that the slightest breeze would send them flying out of the trees, so that it looked like it was snowing, even though it wasn’t. These are the kind of snowflakes that are sitting on the surface of the snow right now in front of my house, so at night, when it’s dark and the street lights are on, it just looks like someone dumped a bunch of glitter everywhere, and it just sparkles and it’s the most beautiful, magical thing I’ve ever seen.
When I read our Isiah text today, about how God is going “to create new heavens and a new earth,” it reminded me of how everything is covered with snow right now. The landscape has been completely changed, and we can hardly remember what it used to look like. The snow is kind of miraculous like that. It puts a soft, glittery, white coating on everything. It lets us know that the season is changing, and it covers up the world that we’re used to seeing.
At the time that this text was written, the Israelite people were experiencing some turmoil. The kingdom was under threat of war; life was uncertain, and the people weren’t happy with their king. It seemed like everything could come crashing down at any moment. Earlier in the book of Isaiah, in chapter 10, he writes, “God will cut the branches with terrifying power; the tallest trees will be cut down, and the lofty will be brought low. God will hack down the thickets of the forest with an ax, and Lebanon with its majestic trees will fall.” This text is about their enemies in Assyria, the reason why they’re not at peace. Isaiah 11 continues with the tree metaphor, saying, “A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse, and a branch shall grow out of his roots. The spirit of God shall rest on him, the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and reverence for God.” Isaiah is prophesying here about the coming of a new king, a good king, a king who loves God and will rule with justice and wisdom. Isaiah is looking towards the future, prophesying about a time when his people will no longer be threatened.
And, this longing makes sense. When everything around you feels scary or dangerous, of course you’re going to hope for change. You’re going to look towards a future of peace and happiness. Isaiah goes so far as to describe this new world with hyperbolic imagery, saying, “The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them.” This imagery is repeated 54 chapters later in our reading today, “The wolf and the lamb shall feed together, the lion shall eat straw like the ox.”
This imagery isn’t supposed to reflect reality. It’s symbolic, a hyperbole, a turn of phrase that is so outlandish that everyone hearing it is supposed to know that it isn’t supposed to be understood as literally true. We use hyperboles when we’re trying to make a point; they’re supposed to be surprising. Isaiah is trying to explain how unbalanced and wrong their current situation is by describing its opposite, which is the wolves and leopards lying down with the sheep and calves, all of them happily munching on grass together. It represents the prophet’s desire for peace, God’s desire for peace.
The world of Isaiah is not so unlike our own. There are conflicts happening all over the world. People are being killed, refugees are fleeing for their lives, so many people dying before their time. There is so much uncertainty around us, so much pain and suffering. This isn’t how things are supposed to be. This isn’t the world that God wants for us.
There is a deep, deep longing in our hearts, a yearning for what is good, and for what is ultimately true. The future described in Isaiah 65 is a kind of truth about the world, how the world is supposed to be. And, deep down inside, in the very core of our beings, we all understand that. We all know it.
As Thanksgiving draws near, we all start to get a little nostalgic for times gone by. We think about old-fashioned values, and old-fashioned traditions. But, I think wrapped up in that is a kind of nostalgia not about the past, but about the future. About the future that we all long for. About the reality that is not yet, but almost. We’re waiting for that peace to become a reality, for the in-breaking of the realm of God to become full-fledged reality.
I think the snow, in all of it variety, in the way that it covers everything in a blanket of beautiful sparkling white, is the in-breaking of the realm of God into the world. It a hint of what’s to come, a pulling back of the curtain and peek into the future. It’s a symbol of how God is working to make the world new.
God is working to shape a new world in which children don’t die, and where justice and fairness are understood, expected, and lived-out. God is working to shape a new world in which the wolf and the lamb shall feed together, and the lion shall eat straw like the ox. But, as we wait for peace to descend upon the world, we have to remember that there are signs of peace among us now. It exists between family and friends. We see it every time someone reaches out to help a stranger in need. It happens when countries welcome refugees into their borders, helping them to make a new home. As the people of God, we have to do more than wait for change to happen. We have to create it. We have to foster it when we see it. We have to protect it, and lift it up. And, we have to notice and celebrate the beauty of the peace that already exists among us. Because, that’s how change spreads. That’s how we take part in the in-breaking of the realm of God into our world today. That’s how we become the change that we want to see. Amen.
~ Rev. Charles Wei
