December 1, 2019: "Maybe"
December 1, 2019 Rev. Rhonda Blevins, DMIN
Maybe
Isaiah 2:1-5
The word that Isaiah son of Amoz saw concerning Judah and Jerusalem. In days to come the mountain of the Lord’s house shall be established as the highest of the mountains, and shall be raised above the hills; all the nations shall stream to it. Many peoples shall come and say, “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.” For out of Zion shall go forth instruction, and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem. He shall judge between the nations, and shall arbitrate for many peoples; they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more. O house of Jacob, come, let us walk in the light of the Lord!
If you’re here this morning it means you survived Thanksgiving. Congratulations!
One of the common memes about Thanksgiving is the idea of families arguing about religion or politics over Thanksgiving dinner. A few years ago, “Saturday Night Live” did a hilarious sketch along this theme. In the skit, a family is sitting around a beautiful and bountiful table, when “Aunt Kathy” brings up some divisive political issue, setting everyone on edge. Then she turns to her white niece’s black boyfriend and says, “I’ve got a question for you. Why do your friends keep antagonizing the police?” This doesn’t land well with the niece, as you might imagine. World War III is about to break out when a little kid gets up from the table, walks over to a boom box, and turns on Adele’s “Hello.” Suddenly, the family stops bickering and starts singing longingly to each other in over-dramatic fashion: “Hello from the other side. I must’ve called a thousand times.” The singing is interrupted when the doorbell rings, and they go back to arguing.[1]
The reason the skit is so funny is because it is reality meets lunacy. The singing to each other in overdramatic sepia tones offers comedic relief from the tension of an all-too-familiar scene of family members divided over opinions and beliefs—it could be politics, religion, or things only family members would say like, “I see you’ve put on a few pounds there.” (Everybody’s got one in their family!)
It’s good to count our blessings on Thanksgiving. But sometimes our relatives outnumber them. J
Our Advent scripture reading today from the book of Isaiah is set in the 8th Century BCE when conflict is brewing in the Middle East (is conflict ever NOT brewing in the Middle East?) in the run up to the Syro-Ephraimitic War. Isaiah is advising King Ahaz of Judah not to get drawn into an unwise alliance against the powerful Assyrian Empire. The King finds himself between a rock and a hard place as threats mount from every direction and war seems inevitable—war they can’t win.
In other words (to use academic terms), Isaiah’s world was a “hot mess.” This may be difficult for us to imagine since we live in an age marked by peace and tranquility. Not!
As I was thinking about some of the ways our world today is no less a “hot mess” than Isaiah’s world, I was inspired to write a little poem about some of the things I’ve read about in the news:
Global warming, climate change,
Pedophilia, stock exchange,
Trump impeachment, Ukraine,
Russia hacked our vote.
Mass shootings in our schools,
Politicians breaking rules,
One percenters think we’re fools,
Migrants in a boat.
North Korea, war crimes,
Fake news in the New York Times?
Holy rollers “End Times,”
China in a spat.
Earthquakes, hurricanes,
Presidential campaigns,
Diabetes, migraines,
Growing income gap.
Black Lives Matter, Me Too,
Anti-vaxxers, bird flu,
Racists, bigots, anti-Jew,
D.C. likes to spend.
Muslim ban and border wall,
Mass extinction, urban sprawl,
Syria’s a free-for-all,
When will this all end?
Thanks to Billy Joel for the inspiration from his song, “We didn’t start the fire, it was always burning since the world’s been turning.”
And if it’s not bad enough that the world is “burning” on a large scale, each of us is dealing with our own challenges: medical, relational, financial, vocational. I love the quote, “Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.”[2] What’s your “hard battle” these days?
Back to Isaiah. King Ahaz saw no good options. Join the alliance with Israel and Damascus and be slaughtered by the Assyrians? Or refuse to join the alliance and face the miltary wrath of Israel and Damascus? It was a lose-lose situation for King Ahaz, who turned to the prophet Isaiah for advice.
Into that hopeless situation, Isaiah speaks a word of hope. Isaiah offers the King a vision of a different kind of world—one in which conflict on a global scale is no more. It’s a vision of unity—of world peace—of one people under one God. The imagery is of a “mountain of the Lord’s house.” All the nations stream up this mountain. We can imagine people from every nation, every race—a kaleidoscope of colors with a parade of flags from every corner of the earth ascending the mount. “They shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more.”
What a glorious vision! Who wants to live in that kind of world?
If we want to live in that kind of world, we have to work for that kind of world.
You may know a spiritual inspired from the words of this text from Isaiah. If so, sing along:
I’m gonna lay down my sword and shield
Down by the riverside, down by the riverside, down by the riverside
I’m gonna lay down my sword and shield
Down by the riverside
And I ain’t gonna study war no more.
If we are going to make any headway towards creating the kind of world that Isaiah envisioned, we each have to do our part. The world will only know as much peace as the individuals in the world create. How do we create peace? This little song, simple as it may be, lays out a two-part formula for each person’s role in creating a peaceful world:
1. We must lay down our swords. We must commit ourselves to nonviolence on a micro and on a macro level. Not only that, but this vision in Isaiah sees all people beating swords into plowshares. Weapons of war are transformed into tools the community can use to feed the people. We must lay down our swords.
2. We must lay down our shields. I never considered this part of the song until this week. One writer pointed out that “laying down the shield is even more radical than laying down the sword, because to lay down one’s shield is to lay down one’s fear.”[3] We so rarely lay down our shields. We spend so much energy in defending ourselves “against the threat of attack, whether it be of terrorists, lawsuits, or even personal embarrassment. If you start paying attention, you’ll probably notice how often you use the shield in everyday interactions. Every time you feel the impulse to defend your opinion, or your experience, or your worth you are holding forth the shield.”
Our part in creating the world envisioned by Isaiah so long ago seems like it should be simple: lay down our swords and lay down our shields. If it is so simple, why hasn’t Isaiah’s vision become reality after nearly three millennia?
Here’s why: few people lay down their swords; even fewer lay down their shields.
My question this morning is this: “Could it not begin with us?” Could it not begin with each of us laying down our figurative swords and shields at home, in our personal relationships. We must create peace on a micro level before we can ever begin to create peace on a global scale. “Could it not begin with us?”
This is the question posed by singer/songwriter Nichole Nordeman in a Christmas song she recently released entitled “Maybe.” The song touched me deeply with these lyrics:
You and I are complicated, an old and tender bruise,
Troubled waters separated, islands in the room.
You and I try to ignore this house of mirrors here,
Every glance and tone distorted year after year.
So I will swallow hard to say this—it might be a little rough—
If the world wants peace for Christmas, could it not begin with us?
How we love our indignation; how we nurse our pride.
Maybe we were both mistaken, or both justified.
Well this might be unexpected—a little clumsy and unplanned—
If not at a baby’s manger where else could I hold your hand?
Maybe you’re still angry. Maybe I’m offended.
Maybe in the arms of Jesus we’ll be mended.
Maybe love is bigger, maybe love is stronger,
Maybe just for Christmas, maybe longer.
My dear friends, “Could it not begin with us?” Maybe?
[1] If you want a good laugh, check out the SNL skit here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e2zyjbH9zzA
[2] Source unknown.
[3] Patricia Pearce, “Gonna Lay Down My Sword and Shield,” https://www.patriciapearce.com/gonna-lay-down-my-sword-and-shield/