Stumps, Deserts, and Stones
This hope was spoken by Isaiah some 700 years prior to the appearance of John the Baptist. “A shoot will grow up from the stump of Jesse; a branch will bear fruit from his roots.” When Israel was conquered by the Assyrians around 720 before the birth of Christ, they had undergone forced deportation and resettlement as a tool of political domination to maintain control over conquered people groups. The hope was that God would anoint a new king of the lineage of David who would arise and restore God’s people. But for 400 years, God had been silent. No prophets. No relief from oppressive empires. The people had stopped hoping, had stopped living as though they had hope. They went to the synagogues and the Temple, they maintained the sacrificial system, the Pharisees and Sadducees ran things from polar opposite ends of the political spectrum and squabbled all the way, the priests shuffled around the holy places and said the words they were supposed to say and did the things they were supposed to do. But as far as any real action? Any real hope that “that’s just the way the world works” was going to be challenged by religion? No; they had lived long enough to know the slim chances of a shoot coming up out of a stump that was going to amount to anything against “the powers that be”, which were definitely better than the likelihood of that stump’s roots putting on fruit.
But when they heard that there was a man who was wearing camel’s hair with a leather belt, living out in the desert wilderness, the echoes of hope reverberated. In the Jewish culture of the day, there was an expectation that before the Messiah came, the prophet Elijah would appear and prepare the way. Elijah is described in Scripture as “a hairy man, with a leather belt around his waist.” John’s choice in clothing was not about wearing something odd or itchy for piety…in fact camel’s hair produces luxury fabric that is soft and warm, like cashmere. John’s clothing is a visible symbol that he has been sent to proclaim the nearness of the deepest hope of the Jewish people, the Messiah is coming.
And he preaches right out of the old prophets, and makes it relevant. He quotes Isaiah’s prophecy about the Israelites building a road back to Jerusalem from exile and preaches the hope of home, of peace, of redemption and restoration. He baptizes in the Jordan River, where their ancestors had crossed into the promised land over 1,000 years before, preaching that they had to prepare for something even greater – God would defeat all evil and establish his kingdom on earth. One preacher said (Cecil Sherman), “I can hear the word on the street in Jerusalem: ‘You’ve got to go hear this fellow. He tells the truth no matter what.’” Even the Sadducees and Pharisees went, these groups were that day’s far left and far right, the liberals and conservatives…and neither end of the political spectrum liked what John had to say.
Called them “Children of snakes!” They didn’t like each other, or agree on much of anything, but they sure did agree that they didn’t like him. They were children of Abraham, heirs of the promise. How dare John attack their special status with God. They were sure that God was on the side of Israel, no matter what. Dr. Douglas Hare warns that the Christian equivalent is “We have Christ as our Savior.” John’s response? “God is the creator – it’s no trouble for God to form new children of Abraham from these stones! Produce fruit that shows you have changed your hearts and lives.”
Because the axe is ready to cut down what is growing here. The trees that don’t produce good fruit will be chopped down and thrown into the fire. The evidence of repentance is living a fruitful, ethical life. When you realize, when you truly believe that the kingdom has drawn near, that God is at work in our world, you show that awareness by doing work that accompanies the kingdom, that aligns with it, that clears the path for it.
So, what does that look like? It doesn’t look like kingdoms we’ve built. That’s the hard truth. It’s a radical claim that in God’s kingdom, money and power mean nothing, and there is no social hierarchy because every person who draws breath has equal status and equal value. God’s kingdom is community. So instead of stepping on other people and climbing over their backs, it looks like people holding one another up and reaching back to make sure everyone is moving together on the road.
Where do we need to repent – to admit that we have not acted in alignment with the values of community, personally and corporately, and change or work for change? Remember, I said neither political party liked John the Baptist. Politically, the call to community is a call to governance by humility, by honesty, by self-sacrifice and it was a radical departure from the system that was in place between the Romans and the Temple elite. They could slap the title “Jewish” on it and sell it to the people, blame Rome and keep the people’s frustration with the rich oppressive empire stoked but not enough to set fire – just enough to keep them sure that they shouldn’t revolt and that the religious authorities were really looking out for them even though their lives were miserable and they were essentially servants of the empire, treat people cruelly and say it was acceptable to God and necessary for the good of the whole empire, and since it was labeled “Jewish” and they couldn’t read the scrolls, they believed what they were told. Community, justice for all, peace was dissonant, like smoke that you’d put down a snake’s hole to bring him out, so threatening to the elite powers who vied constantly for more control but knew that at least everyone else was beneath them, that they were united against it. Community, that every person is of equal worth, is a radical claim! And it’s only possible when people of God come to know the truth of another radical claim, the claim of stumps and deserts and rocks. The claim that God holds the power of life and death no longer holds its sting. We experience a radical transformation when fear and fear-mongering don’t motivate, and even threat of death is empty because disease and death don’t have the last word. God’s kingdom looks like things without life, thriving. It looks like stumps with strong, new growth. It looks like deserts blooming. It looks like rocks receiving the breath of life and becoming children of God. It looks like what the world wants to crucify being resurrected.
