An Unlikely Hope

This Sunday, the Third Sunday of Advent, we will be lighting the candle of Peace on the Advent wreath at Newtown United Methodist Church. In a passage from Isaiah that's often read during Advent, the prophet casts an idyllic image of future peace for the People of God when he writes:

The wolf live with the lamb,

And the leopard will lie down with the goat,

The calf and the lion and the yearling together,

And a little child will lead them.
-Isaiah 11:6 (NIV)

Linton Memorial Park - Newtown, PA

One winter evening in 1980, my father happened upon a scene which, when I first read his description of it, etched in my mind something of the meaning of this famous line from Isaiah: "And a little child will lead them." Here's what Dad wrote:

"I pulled to a stop at a red light at the intersection of 6th and Northampton Streets in Easton, Pennsylvania. This was a section of the city besieged by urban decay, a place where the tragedy of urban living was at its worst. As I waited for the light to change, a poorly clad girl of about 8 or 9 years of age led a man by the hand whom I judged to be her father – a man who was drunk and could hardly keep his balance. The girl carefully led him off the curb and slowly across the crosswalk in front of my car, pulling him, steadying him, urging him on, until they reached the other side, and presumably from there made their way home in similar fashion. As I watched this scene unfold, a deep emotion flooded my soul as I realized how God sends his love and care to us, even when we are at our disgustingly worst – in the most fragile and unlikely ways, even in a little girl such as this one.

We live in a world that is very dark, ugly and dangerous, just as it was that cold night at 6th and Northampton Streets. Sometimes this dark ugliness is within us, sometimes it is around us, but in either case God always sends signs of hope, fragile signs, signs which we can perceive only with the eyes of faith. Strange as it seems, Christian hope is often found in unlikely places. In fact, Christian hope has a way of burning brightest on the most darkened stage. Christmas, coming when it does, reminds us of this. Christmas is not observed in the beautiful springtime. It is celebrated at the dark winter solstice. The date of December 25th does not have historical importance. Instead, it has theological importance.

The ultimate hope for us resides in a baby laid in a manger in a backwater town called Bethlehem. Such an unlikely hope! And yet God’s word and our Christian experience tell us that Almighty God himself came to visit us in that humble child. He came to show us that he loves us still, in spite of the darkness within us, and he wants us to love him. God’s love comes gently as a child. It doesn't coerce or overwhelm. It doesn't dazzle or manipulate. God’s love comes quietly, as quietly as the cry of a newborn. It is God’s subtle yet forceful reminder that God’s kingdom is on the horizon, and if we quiet our restless lives and allow it, God will fill us with his love. God will fill us with himself. This allowing God to fill us is faith, and faith is the way we know that, unlikely hope though he may be, this baby Jesus is indeed our Savior."

From: "An Unlikely Hope"
Scripture: Isaiah 11:1-9; Matthew 11:2-11

The Peaceable Kingdom

When I moved recently to Newtown, Pennsylvania, I was pleasantly surprised to learn of this little borough's rich history. Among other things, Newtown was the home of Edward Hicks, a Quaker preacher and sign-painter who became a well-known American primitive artist. To be more accurate, I should say Hicks is well-known to some. Not so much to my dad. In a sermon I found in his barrel, Dad wrote, "Last month on vacation I observed some paintings by an early American artist -- Hunter or Harris, I don't remember his name -- whose favorite theme was what he called 'The Peaceable Kingdom,' taken from the great peace text in Isaiah 11:6-8 about the lion and the lamb lying down together. He painted many variations of this theme" -- more than sixty by some counts.  Here's an example from a museum I visited last year, the Fine Arts Museum of San Francisco:

The Peaceable Kingdom - Edward Hicks

While my dad forgot Mr. Hicks' name, the people of Newtown never did. In fact, they erected a statue in his honor at a local playground, giving three dimensions to Hicks' famously flat depiction of the lion lying down with the lamb:

  

My father was drawn to Hicks' Peaceable Kingdom for a reason that isn't evident in the Newtown statue his paintings inspired. Hicks painted many varied images of this prophetic scene that many Christians associate with the end of time, "but always somewhere on the picture was a minute scene of William Penn signing a treaty with the Indians. Why? Because the artist was absolutely convinced that Penn's Treaty with the Indians marked the beginning of God's reign of peace on earth. ... [P]eople have been making incorrect identifications of [historic] events with Biblical predictions for centuries. ... This kind of [end times] speculation is still going on today, and it is just as spurious. It may seem harmless enough in itself, and it may be an interesting pastime, but the danger in it is the do-nothing attitude it creates as we sit and wait for God to do his thing. This approach [to the notion of peace on earth] has consciously or unconsciously rubbed off on many of us. It claims to be Biblical, but it is not."

"From beginning to end, the Bible sees the people of God as working strenuously to bring reconciliation and peace to the relationships between persons and God, between individual persons, and between groups of persons. In fact, there is a sense in which reconciliation of man to God and man to man is the whole mission and message of the Church. There is no reason for any of us to stand by looking at the terror and destruction in our world with a pious, smug attitude that this is the way it must be. The Bible never counsels this."

"In the Bible, peace, like the Kingdom of God in which it flourishes, is both a present reality and a future hope. When Jesus spoke about the Kingdom, he described it as if it were the early minutes of a beautiful sunrise. The first rays, perhaps even a hint of the sun itself, is clearly visible, but the viewer knows that soon the whole brilliant fiery ball itself will be above the horizon. And so peace is something for the here and now as well as for there and then. We have it here and now within our hearts through knowing God, and we also see it around us in significant islands and pockets, wherever love is being shown person to person."

"With all the hate and degradation there is in the world today, it is truly amazing how much good will and mercy we can see all around us if we are really looking for the Kingdom of God. Look at the lives that are being changed; look at all the many movements there are today promoting freedom and development and human[ dignity.] These are the first rays of the sunrise; the first fruits of the Kingdom. We know not when or how [peace] will finally come in all its glory, but we do know that for now, at least, God chooses to make it happen through us. Whether God continues to use us in this great work will depend on how faithful we will be. We can never rest or withdraw. The People of God, spurred by the first rays of the sun, are committed to action and involved in peacemaking because we believe peace is possible. Yes, even more, we know peace is coming. We know this because we follow the Prince of Peace."  

From "Is Peace Possible?"
Texts: Micah 4:1-4, Isaiah 11:6-8
Preached at Grace UMC, Millersville, PA