From the Root a Branch.

We hear in the reading from Hebrew Scriptures, Isaiah 11 this week that from the roots of a bulky stump, a branch emerges. The extravagant hope of Israel will come from a shoot, a branch. The branch will have wisdom and understanding, counsel and might, knowledge and the fear of the Lord, justice and equity, righteousness and faithfulness. That’s some branch! Or more accurately, that’s some hope!

As confused and dark as our world often seems, we are living in a time of great imagination. Our economic system is in transition and we pray that the greedy will not prevail. Political power is up for grabs and may those who stand be compassionate and reflect God’s love. Scientists have grown beyond the boundaries they previously knew. A global community has adjusted Religion. The internet has created equal footing for art and literature. Our culture is reimagining; we are dreaming together.

But with this hopeful activity comes a measure of fear. As if the rug has been pulled out—or maybe a more poignant picture—it feels as if the roots have been pulled up. As I write this, I am reminded again like last week of parts of Townsville post cyclone when there are trees lying on the side of the road, the debris and damage from the storm is so visible. I’m also imagining the damage that is still being repaired after a storm a number of days ago here in parts of Sydney. The tree roots seem to mock us, saying, “The world is uncertain, unsturdy, unreliable.” Karl Barth says it is less like we are rooted or standing firm and more like we are being upheld by the winds of Spirit.

I wonder if the hope of Isaiah is less about being rooted in David and more about being upheld by the Spirit. Because this prophet dreamed big, really big. So big that dependence on the stump was out of the question. But dependence on the Spirit, it’s all over this passage.

It is very difficult to sustain an undivided view of reality. There is within each of us a desire for unity, wholeness, and inclusion; yet the moment we are hurt, affronted, or challenged we want to cut off and remove the offending person or group and the unity ends. We pay lip service to nonduality, inclusivity, and holistic living, as long as you agree with us. Cross us, or even disagree with us, at your peril! A number of world political leaders act like this and often their decisions seem irrational but probably come from the fact that they believe they have been crossed.

I am told that if one grew up in apartheid South Africa, there was an ironic slogan printed on all their coins at that time, “Unity is strength.” Just how bizarre that statement was became evident as history unfolded. Perhaps we attempt to counter the very darkest of our shadow material by projecting it into the world as our mottos and visions? So, in this week’s readings Isaiah dreams of a nondual world where lions and lambs lie down in unity, and children don’t get bitten by snakes. Paul encourages the Romans to create harmonious welcoming communities. And John the baptiser speaks of a level freeway to God.

Sadly, the words are hardly cold when he spews venom at the vipers from Jerusalem who oppose him. The key to nonduality is the centrality of love. Call it life, or call it God, when you realise that there is only One reality that includes all of us and them and those others too, then it all comes together and makes infinite sense. It is a freeway indeed. Sadly, the on-ramps to the “I-One freeway” may be hard to find. Nonduality is difficult and harmony is hard. That shouldn’t keep us from seeking it though.

I am going to finish today with the words from a hymn which provide much to reflect on:

God, Send Your Prophets Here (Tune Leoni)

God, send your prophets here,

For all around we see

The sinful, broken values of humanity.

Accepting death and fear,

Our nations go to war

And so, deny that peace is worth our struggling for.

Send stewards of the earth,

For it’s becoming plain:

This world we haven’t cared for cries aloud in pain.

Forgetting nature’s worth,

Consuming for today,

We never realize what it is we throw away.

Send ones who love the poor,

For leaders arm the lands;

They buy their tanks and take the food from children’s hands.

With greed, we long for more

While others cry for bread;

Remind us that we can’t be full till all are fed.

Who are your prophets here?

We wonder, Lord, and search—

And then we realize you are calling us, your church.

Your kingdom, God, is near;

You show what life can be!

So, by your Spirit may we answer, “Lord, send me!”

Text: Copyright © 2011 by Carolyn Winfrey Gillette. All rights reserved.