12/11 Lectionary Notes: A backwards prophecy

Lectionary Texts for December 11, the Second Sunday of Advent, Year B

Rob and I just started working through a book of meditations called The Advent of Justice by Brian Walsh, Richard Middleton, Mark Vander Vennen and Sylvia Keesmat (you can obtain it here, if you're interested). The meditation for the first Sunday of Advent by Walsh included some reflection on Isaiah's historic context:

Isaiah's ministry began during the prosperous reign of King Uzziah in Jerusalem. In fact, during Uzziah's reign Judah's power and prosperity was second only to the era of David and Solomon. Although the political map was in a constant process of change...the mood in Jerusalem remained one of satisfied safety. After all, Jerusalem is the city of David! With the Davidic king on his throne and God in the Temple, what evil could possibly befall us? What do we have to wait for? All that we could possibly want is already here. Since we have a secure covenant with the God of Israel, we have already arrived, and the proof of that arrival is in our prosperity. Who needs an Advent when the promises are already fulfilled?

Enter Isaiah with an astonishingly different reading of his times. Judah has arrived? Well, if being critically ill is your idea of arrival then yes, Judah has indeed arrived. In this opening prophecy, Isaiah cuts through the self-satisfaction of prosperity and the pretentiousness of Judah's putting trust in the covenant. He describes Judah as a body of bruises, sores and bleeding wounds. At a time when Judah understands herself to be secure in her borders, Isaiah paints a picture of aliens devouring the land and of a besieged city.

Why? Why does Isaiah see destruction and collapse where others see a secure and prosperous city? Because Isaiah knows that personal and cultureal life that no longer "waits" for Gods reign, because it thinks that that reign has already been realized, is in fact on the path of death. When covenantal life has been structured to serve the interests of the rich at the expense of the poor, then this is in fact a covenant with death.

I find it very helpful to understand the context in which Isaiah lived as one way of situating the season of Advent within the Church year.

There are so many contrasts and reversals happening in these texts and in this season. The humble are exalted, the rich sent away empty, the mighty cast down from their thrones, the sorrowful restored to laughter, the captive liberated, the unjust judged and the devastated restored. These themes are especially reflected in the Isaiah text, the Psalm and the Magnificat for the second Sunday of Advent.

This theme echoes the mention in the lectionary notes for the first Sunday of Advent of David Dark's emphasis on the coming of Christ as good new for all people, except those whose power it interrupts. For those in Jerusalem who were content in their prosperity, there was no need for a prophet or a Messiah. However, for those who seem not to be the benefactors of national success--the oppressed, the captive, the brokenhearted, the mourners, the powerless--the prophet brings Good News of deliverance, in which the oppressors will receive "their recompense." Isaiah upsets the assumptions of the comfortable in his own time and ought to still upset us now.

The parallels between Isaiah's time/place and our own are strong. Led by a pseudo-religious political spirit, we are too easily convinced that our national prosperity is the result of virtue and begin to pursue the pinnacle of our own achievement instead of being chastened by the words of our prophets: repent for your sins against God and against one another. A new age is on the horizon and we are called to active, expectant waiting.

Who are the prophets among us today? Who is pointing the way to Christ with words and life? Paul's admonition is still applicable: "Do not [suppress] the Spirit. Do not despise the words of the prophets, but test everything; hold fast to what is good." Are we testing the spirits of our age with hearts genuinely rejoicing, prayerful, grateful and sanctified for God's sake? Or have pride and self-interest formed an impenetrable crust of self-preservation around our hearts that renders forgiveness archaic and change impossible?

The waiting that Advent reminds us to engage in takes place in constant relationship and transformation. In humility, we approach the throne of God again and again, asking for the courage to stand directly in the path of the runaway train of injustice believing that the one who calls us is faithful and is making all things right. We ask for openness to the Spirit and long for the promised flourishing of righteousness that will match the overflow of our hearts with love for I AM.