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Creekside Church
Sermon of December
6, 1998
"Peace by
Piece "
Isaiah
11:1-10
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Rev. David
Bibbee
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Over
the past 15 years the author whose work I have read most of
is Frederick Buechner. Six years ago I fulfilled a dream of
participating in a weekend retreat led by Buechner. At the
closing service on Sunday, he began his sermon by telling
of a trip he made with his family to Sea World in Orlando.
It was a glorious sunny day. The amphitheater was filled with
men, women and children, young and old. Young men and women
trainers with the lean, chiseled features of Greek gods led
the sea mammals through amazing tricks.
Seals,
dolphins and killer whales performed aerial acrobatics,
cart-wheeling and leaping through hoops high above the water.
The mammals and trainers had a special bond which was evident
in their precisely choreographed performance. The chatter
and splashing of the creatures was greeted with great laughter
and applause from the crowds. The interplay between the
animals and the audience created an unexpected response
in Buechner. Tears were welling up in his eyes. He had seen
something...a glimpse of a beautiful vision. He did not
look to his wife or daughters, lest they notice his reaction.
He just kept it to himself.
A year
later he was speaking at a preacher's conference in Washington
D. C. and he mentioned the incident. Afterwards he was approached
by an Anglican priest from Great Britain. He also had been
to Sea World in Orlando. He watched the same show, but didn't
know how to talk about it because for some inexplicable
reason, he also cried. It was as if a veil had been lifted
and like Buechner, he saw a vision of biblical proportion.
The
fear and apprehension displayed between the human and animal
world and within humanity itself, had for those few moments
been suspended. For a precious little while, these two men
had been given a glimpse of God's peaceable kingdom. It
was only a moment, but it was enough to begin to feel what
it was like for harmony to be restored with everyone and
everything belonging together in a state that could be described
with one word...peace.
During
Advent we hear from Isaiah who prophesied during the dark
days when Judah was under the harsh rule of Assyria. Their
situation, to say the least, was bleak, but Isaiah struck
a needed tone of hope, proclaiming that one day God would
restore and redeem His people and His peaceful purpose for
the world would come to fruition. The imagery Isaiah employed
is as rich as any you will find in scripture. A time of
peace would come, not through military force or political
savvy, but by a descendant from the lineage of David; a
shoot from the stump of Jesse. He will not establish peace
with an iron fist, for there is no peace with fear at the
heart of it. The righteous branch will exercise a spiritual
rule. Wisdom and understanding, counsel and might, the knowledge
and fear of the Lord, justice and righteousness will characterize
the rule of this ideal king.
Isaiah
then paints a picture of a broken order restored; a scene
that could only be painted in poetry. There will be strange
bedfellows in this new order. Wolves shall lie with lambs,
calves with lions. The cow and bear shall eat from the same
trough. Vegetarian lions will eat straw like an ox. Little
children playing over a poisonous snake pit. No creature
will fear another. They shall not hurt or destroy; the knowledge
of the Lord shall cover the earth as the waters cover the
sea.
Such
a beautiful vision that still might stir someone to the
point of a tear or two the way Buechner and the priest at
Sea World experienced, precisely because it is so unlike
anything we have ever seen. Such a beautiful vision...one
that is as far from reality as you can possibly get. In
one of Gary Larson's Far Side cartoons, Noah and several
pairs of animals are on the ark, gathered in a circle gazing
at the floor in shock. Legs and hooves are sticking up;
one leopard is casting a guilty gaze to the other, and Noah
laments, "Well...so much for the unicorns. But, from now
on, all carnivores will be confined to C Deck."
Larsen
tells it like it is. Isaiah is dreaming. His vision isn't
just unusual, it's unnatural. It is one way of saying that
peace does not occur naturally either. A survey of history
shows that periods of peace have been short, few and far
between. Conflict is the norm. Peace is the exception. When
did you last see a headline that peace had broaken out?
Peace is so scarce that we are cynical about ever having
it, at least in a way like the Bible envisions. If someone
says they are at peace, we think they have checked out and
given in. Someone has pointed out that we equate peace with
passivity. "To hold one's peace means, 'Be quiet!' To keep
the peace means, 'Obey!' To make peace is to surrender.
To rest in peace is to die."
We
have seen and even been part of efforts to achieve peace
on scales both small and large, but our efforts haven't
done much, it seems, for we are arguably living in the most
violent period of history.
I was
in high school during the height of the Viet Nam war. I
recall a conversation I had with an older lady named Berniece.
I said that peace would happen if we would just pull out
of Viet Nam. Berniece said, "There won't be peace in the
world till people have peace in their hearts." At the time
I thought that was a copout. In the years since then, I've
changed my mind.
Can
we achieve what we haven't experienced? Isn't the conflict
of the world a symptom of the conflict inside our own skins?
Not a day passes that we do not feel the turmoil that exists
within us. We want to replace our turmoil with tranquility
and we try to do it in so many ways...through exercise programs,
diet, prayer, spiritual disciplines and counseling, and
we benefit from all of these things, but peace continues
to elude us.
Well
then, if peace is not the norm -- if it is so difficult
to come by, and the world is obsessed with it's own destruction,
why bother with Isaiah, or for that matter any other biblical
texts which hold up the promise of peace? The answer lies
in what happens when we have felt grasped by something from
beyond...a peace that passed all understanding which was
enough to set you seeking it and working for it. The slightest
stirring of the peace that comes from God is all it takes.
It doesn't matter if nothing comes from your efforts. It
doesn't matter if your efforts at forgiving and reconciling
are not accepted. The outcome is always God's, and though
you can't always say how, you become better for having tried.
A Pollyanna,
feel-good approach to peace won't work, because it underestimates
how resistant the world is to peace as God wants to establish
it. You need only look to Jesus to understand how hard it
is. The price of the peace he gave was his life. It wasn't
an easy peace. At the Last Supper he said, "Peace I leave
with you." But don't forget that he also said, "I didn't
come to bring peace, but a sword." Do these seemingly contradictory
statements cancel each other out? No. They are two sides
of the same coin. It has been said that the tension is resolved
when you understand that for Jesus, peace wasn't the absence
of struggle, but the presence of love.
Stand
for and work for peace, and you'll have a fight on your
hands. You will need more than noble ideals, clear thinking,
and steel resolve backing you up. You will need the One
upon whom the Spirit of the Lord rests. You will need his
resolve to keep seeking a peaceable kingdom that often seems
as likely to happen as a lamb snuggling next to a wolf.
In
"The Godfather, Part Three" Don Corleone, the Godfather,
goes to the Vatican to work out a business deal as a way
of covering his tarnished reputation with a cloak of respectability.
He met Cardinal Lamberto who asked if he wanted to make
a confession. He refused, saying the confession would take
too long, but he needed the Cardinal's help, so in a nervous,
stammering manner, he confessed his marital infidelities.
Then he poured out his heinous sins, including the murder
of his own brother, and Don Corleone began to sob. Cardinal
Lamberto then spoke the words of absolution, "I know you
don't believe this, but you have been redeemed."
Advent
calls us to believe what is easy to believe. In Ephesians
Paul says, "He is our peace. He has broken down the wall
of hostility. He preached peace to those who were far off
and those who were near through the cross."
When
we consider the hatred and warfare that engulfs our world,
when we think of the conflict which rages within us, we
are tempted to dismiss Isaiah's vision.
The
possibility of a world at peace seems as unlikely as the
animal behavior portrayed in Isaiah. Living in peace, like
forgiving and being forgiven, isn't natural. It is not at
all how the system works, but it is the will of God we orient
ourselves toward.
I have
often wondered why it is that God gives us tasks too big
to tackle. Why not give us something we can handle so we
might gain a little confidence and then go on to something
more substantial? The reason is that God wants us to do
what can't be done without him. Since his son's first advent,
we have been enlisted in a project which requires perspective
and patience and persistence, until his second advent.
There
once was a man to whom God had given a task. God showed
him a huge rock and told him to push against it with all
his might. Day by day, year by year, he toiled from sunup
to sundown, his shoulder set squarely against the unrelenting
rock. Every night he collapsed in his home, exhausted, and
feeling more and more like his labor was spent in vain.
He started thinking, "Why am I doing this? Why should I
kill myself pushing a rock that hasn't moved a half a millimeter?"
The more he thought, the more discouraged he became, till
one day he voiced his complaint to God.
"Look,
Lord, I've labored long and hard, giving my all to do what
you asked, but the rock hasn't moved. What's wrong? Why
am I failing?" God replied, "You did exactly what I asked
of you. I asked you to push the rock. I never said I expected
you to move it. You think you failed, but look at yourself.
Your arms are strong and muscular, your back sinewed, and
your legs are massive and hard. Your calling was to be obedient,
to push, to exercise your faith and trust my wisdom. This
you have done. Moving the rock is my job."
We
long for a time when no one hurts or destroys, when the
earth shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord. We can
work for what we long for, energized by those moments when
we are kissed by the peace of God. Even though we only experience
it a piece at a time, and even though to work for it at
home and at church and in the world is a struggle, we can
continue to hope for it, pray for it, and work for it, knowing
that it will come, in God's good way, and in God's good
time.
(Thanks
to Barbara Brown Taylor whose essay "A Fierce and Realistic
Peace" inspired this sermon.)
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