Sunday, November 29, 2015

The days are surely coming

Scripture Lessons: Psalm 25: 1-10 and Jeremiah 33: 14-16, OT page 738 The turkey is the centerpiece of the meal on Thanksgiving Day, and the Thanksgiving turkey my mother cooked last Thursday deserved all the attention that it got. Early in the day the bird went into the oven, and as we cooked side dishes in the kitchen we were accompanied by the delicious aroma of a turkey baking. When the pop-up turkey timer popped we had a finished bird with crisp skin and juicy flesh, which has not been the case every year – especially that time Uncle Al volunteered to cook and forgot to take out the bag of giblets before putting it in the oven. But this year the turkey was a revelation – deserving of all the attention that she it when placed in the center of the serving line – deserving of all the time spent preparing and cooking her, and maybe, just maybe, deserving of a nomination to replace the bald eagle as our national bird. That’s actually what Benjamin Franklin thought. Writing from France in January of 1784, Franklin wrote to his daughter and gave his opinion regarding the choice for the eagle at the center of our nation’s great seal, which today graces everything from our currency to the president’s lectern. The eagle, he said, “is a Bird of bad moral Character. He does not get his Living honestly. You may have seen him perched on some dead Tree near the River, where, too lazy to fish for himself, he watches the Labour of the Fishing Hawk; and when that diligent Bird has at length taken a Fish, and is bearing it to his Nest for the Support of his Mate and young Ones, the Bald Eagle pursues him and takes it from him.” On the other hand is the turkey, “who” according to Franklin, “is in Comparison a much more respectable Bird, and withal a true original Native of America… He is besides, though a little vain & silly, a Bird of Courage, and would not hesitate to attack a Grenadier of the British Guards who should presume to invade his Farm Yard with a red Coat on.” Franklin’s opinion on this matter has been discussed at length for the last two centuries, but the idea is mostly a punch-line these days. That’s probably because it’s hard to imagine a turkey, with his tail fanned out, his red snood hanging low over his beak, and those wattles under his neck flapping in the wind pictured on the lectern while a serious faced president attempts to address the nation. As far as symbols go – the bald eagle was the more dignified choice. The wingspan of a bald eagle stretches up to 8 feet making her a very large bird, topping the food chain, and flying up to an altitude of 10,000 feet. They mate for life, live up to 30 years, and can fly as fast as 65 miles per hour. When people talk about bald eagles they use words like breathtaking, majestic, and noble – words not often used when describing turkeys – who are often described as noisy, annoying, and delicious. No one wants their nation represented by an animal described as delicious, which proves a significant point – symbols matter. All countries are represented by symbols. Russia is the bear. Israel is the menorah surrounded by olive branches. And Jesus, the hope that he embodies, is often symbolized as a “righteous branch to spring up for David.” Now – a righteous branch that springs up from a tree stump is a significant symbol. It’s different in significant ways from so many of the symbols that represent Jesus and his birthday this Christmas season. Think of the Christmas Tree. I love the Christmas tree as much as I love the thanksgiving turkey. In fact – yesterday was one of my favorite days of the year, the day when we go as a family out to the Satterwhite farm to pick out our Christmas tree. After some negotiation, a little compromise, and barely a debate, we settled on one tree. Not always an easy task, and now this beautiful tree, cut fresh from its roots, stands prominently in our living room. We’ve decorated it, lights and all, but as much as I love it, it can’t last forever. In a month or so, when I haul it out of the living room I’ll leave a trail of dried out pine needles. The only thing to do with this symbol of Christmas is to toss it over the fence, leave it on the curb, or give it to Toney Sowell who runs Oakes and Nichols Funeral home – because he likes to use old Christmas trees to fill gullies that the rain has washed out around his farm. When you think about that – the lifespan of a Christmas tree – then really a Christmas tree represents the way our culture marks Christmas just fine. You prepare for weeks, maybe months, but for all the hard work those presents get opened in about 30 seconds and then its over. It’s all leading up to this grand celebration that comes, then goes – and what do we have left on the afternoon of December 25th but a trashcan full of wrapping paper? We celebrate Christmas by anticipating – but once it’s over what do we have besides a dried out tree to be dragged to the curb. To truly embody the kind of hope that we should celebrate during Christmas – maybe we need something different. Maybe we need the words of Jeremiah. “The days are surely coming, says the Lord, when I will fulfill the promise I made to the house of Israel and the house of Judah. In those days and at that time I will cause a righteous Branch to spring up for David…” Now to understand this righteous branch that springs up for David we first have to know that David represents Israel, and in the context of this symbol – David or Israel, is a tree stump that’s left behind after Jerusalem was destroyed – cut down like a tree by the Babylonian army who invaded in the year 587 BCE. The invasion was so massive, so complete, that the Temple was destroyed, the king deposed, and so many of the survivors shipped off to live in exile. Israel was a tree – a great tree rooted in a place, among a people, nurtured by God – only to be floored by the ax of Babylon. That’s the story in the book of Jeremiah. It’s not so different from the house once full of life now emptied of its contents, sold to the highest bidder, because divorce split the family in two. It’s like that desk now empty – all the contents placed in a cardboard box because the economy slowed and brought cutbacks and layoffs and early retirements. In the same way Babylon invaded Jerusalem, the siege is said to have lasted for 30 months, and when the armies finally left – what remained? Only a stump. As the fires burned themselves out. As the smoke lifted and the dust settled, there was only this stump left behind, and even the faithful lamented for the once great nation now destroyed – now toppled like a tree. All that was left was a stump. Her branches consumed by fire and her trunk split and shipped off to build the houses of another people in some far off land. Only a stump was left. What could this stump symbolize? What did it embody besides a cruel reminder of what once was? The prophet Jeremiah looked upon this stump and saw more than a reminder of what used to be. As the smoke lifted and the dust settled this great prophet saw a shoot spring forth. Now there’s a symbol of hope. It’s not so unlike the Phoenix who rose from the ashes of Atlanta. While Sherman wanted her destroyed, reduced to dust to be swept away by the wind – the city rose again to become the traffic nightmare that it is today. Joking aside – if you want a symbol of hope – a symbol to represent our Jesus – go not to the tree that’s been cut down, go to the stump that was left only to rise again. Because that’s what we are – that’s what life gives us from time to time. Everything that was supposed to happen never did, and everything that wasn’t supposed to happen kept on happening until everything we worked for is gone and the life we’ve been building looks like an old worthless stump in the ground. When that’s the case – when that’s what life looks like to you – keep looking at that stump and just wait – for our God is in the business of bringing hope back to the hopeless. Think about Joseph. One day he was his father’s chosen son, but the next day he was sold into slavery by his own brothers, framed and imprisoned in a dark Egyptian cell – but from this cell the shadow lifted and Joseph rose in such power and esteem that when those brothers went to Egypt in search of food Joseph was there to extend a hand of salvation, exclaiming, “though you intended to do harm to me, God intended it for good.” Then there is Moses. Born as nothing more than the desperate hope of a slave woman. From her he drifted down the river, swept by the current into the hands of a princess and from there he rose to lead his people into freedom. You see – hope – it is this fragile thing. Like a young man in a prison cell, a baby in a basket, a new shoot on an ancient stump – and yet it will grow. That’s Jesus then. A new branch growing out from an old stump. A new baby growing inside an unmarried virgin. A hope that grows from nothing at all – but rises to rule the world. This is Christmas. Not the dried out tree drug to the curb. Not the trash can filled with crumpled paper. The righteous branch that springs up for David. And he shall execute justice and righteousness in the land. In those days Judah will be saved and Jerusalem will live in safety. And this is the name by which it will be called: “The Lord is our righteousness.” So, as Christmas approaches, go buy a tree (the Satterwhites have plenty and Laura might even sell you a bag of cookies) but when it’s all over, once winter is passed and spring comes again, go out to the yard, find that Bradford per you cut down last fall and left for dead. That’s hope. That’s Christmas. New shoots rising from an old stump. That’s our Lord – persistent life even in the midst of what appears to be death. Thanks be to God. Amen.

No comments: