December 9, 2001
Sermon preached by Rev. Donald Ng at the First Chinese Baptist Church of San Francisco.
In the early 19th century, lived the American primitive painter, Edward Hicks. He first painted signs and some of his fellow Quakers gave him a hard time because of his choice of profession. Now he could have painted portraits and made a good living. But instead, he decided to paint religious subjects. His specialty was his depictions of Isaiah 11:6-9. He painted over 60 versions of “The Peaceable Kingdom.”
Now this was no doubt more acceptable to his fellow Quakers than painting signs. What made Hicks’ painting even more acceptable by the Quakers was that almost invariably he would paint somewhere to the left of the painting a scene showing William Penn signing his peace treaty with the Indians.
The paintings of “The Peaceable Kingdom,” show animals as the wolf, lamb, leopard, lion, kid, calf, cow, and the bear—all sharing the same pasture, grazing and resting together. Hicks’ version, like that of Isaiah, is a world of peace, love and tranquillity. This scene is not what we see on TV on the Discovery Channel and National Geographic. Here, the leopard is hanging out with the kid!
When Joy and I lived in Pennsylvania, the same place where Edward Hicks and William Penn lived, we would drive the back roads on Sunday mornings to church. Invariably we would drive by the Malvern Pet Cemetery. On both sides of the entrance gate, there were statues of a dog and a cat. Here at this tranquil pet cemetery, rests cats, dogs, pigs, hamsters, alligators, rabbits, parrots, turtles, and who knows what—in this same acre of earth!
Which of these two visions, “The Peaceable Kingdom” or the Pet Cemetery comes closest to the most plausible conditions under which an alligator and a chicken, or a wolf and a lamb might coexist peacefully?
That’s right. A wolf and a lamb will lie together in peace—if they are both dead—in the Pet Cemetery!
Our World at War
Last Sunday when we returned home from church, we were shocked by what we saw on TV. In 12 hours, 26 people were killed by the devastation of three Palestinian suicide bombings. The next day, Israel declares a “war on terror” and began to fire missiles at targets only 100 feet from Palestinian Authority President Arafat’s headquarters in the West Bank.
By last Wednesday, Israeli warplanes and helicopters bombarded at least eight targets in five cities and towns. Another suicide bomber struck central Jerusalem killing himself and injuring three Israelis.
Wednesday is normally the day that I gather my thoughts to prepare Sunday’s sermon. So I was home with a little more time to read the morning SF Chronicle. I don’t know about you but I found the front page last Wednesday troubling. The headlines were on the War on Terrorism: Closing in on al Qaeda; A Father’s Fear for Taliban Son held by U.S., and Israeli Missiles Hit Within 100 Feet of Arafat. But on the top of the front page like a sidebar, I read “Holiday cookie extravaganza—Bake up a holiday tradition with tips and recipes from Bay Area pros” and “Fresh ideas with flowers—Latest designs for holiday arrangements.”
On this Advent season, we find ourselves caught in the middle of two versions of our world—a world at war and a world aching for peace so that we might bake cookies and arrange flowers! We are betwixt and in between.
The Shoot from the Stump of Jesse
When we find ourselves this year so uncertain on whether to pray for the dead and dying or to raise a drink of good cheer, today’s Scripture lesson tells us to put our trust in the shoot from the stump of Jesse. Isaiah’s prophecy was at a time when the dynasty of David, the son of Jesse, has been reduced to a mere stump. The people of Israel are cowering in fear of the Assyrians, who are as cruel to God’s people as the Egyptians had been. In the middle of this frightening and violent time, God promises to launch a new initiative. Not missiles and suicide bombers but a new initiative that bypasses the genetic hard-wiring of nature itself. The wolf and the lamb will share their personal space in peace. The wolf won’t be tempted and the lamb won’t be intimidated.
But how will this happen?
This new regime comes from a shoot—from a bud, a sprout, a young leaf. Not from a warrior king or a conquering army, but from a fragile sprout. We know this shoot to be Jesus the Christ, the one born as a vulnerable baby in a manger in Bethlehem, the city of David.
He doesn’t come to us at Bethlehem as a Messiah with unlimited military might, even though legions of angels are at his disposal. Rather than scorching the earth with firepower, these angels are instead singing on Christmas night, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth, peace, goodwill toward all.” In God’s kingdom, the Prince of Peace is one with the spirit of wisdom and understanding, one with the spirit of counsel and might, one with the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord.
Any other messiah whether it’s in the Pentagon, Tel Aviv or in the bunkers deep in the mountains of Tora Bora is only going to make an unholy mess.
According to Mahatma Gandhi, there are two kinds of power: One is obtained by threats of punishment. The other arises from acts of love. This is not the sentimental sense often associated with the word, “love.” Instead, it is the love that has practical, kingdom-building power.
Living Out the Peaceable Kingdom
Remember the Quakers like Edward Hicks and William Penn? During World War I, it was the Quakers who broke the food blockade on Germany and Austria. They were not motivated by emotional love toward individual Germans, but by a higher sense of seeing that politics can work to build a better world.
Thirty years later during World War II, the Quaker relief groups were the only groups allowed to rescue Jews inside Germany, even at the height of the war. Because they did not use threats of punishment but what Gandhi referred to as “acts of love,” the Quakers made an impression on the mindset of people as dehumanized as the followers of Hitler.
With the power of love, we can bypass the genetic hard-wiring of human nature itself. We can end the vicious never-ending cycle of an eye for an eye. Gandhi said that if we blind each other, we only end up with a world that is all blind.
So, what kind of power are we hoping for in this season of Advent? The coercive power we see daily on the front pages of the Chronicle? Or the compassionate power we see in Isaiah 11 and depicted in Edward Hick’s paintings of “The Peaceable Kingdom?” What we choose dictates whether we have a peaceable kingdom or a pet cemetery.
There’s a story of a woman named Susan who was receiving training to be a spiritual mentor. Before the training, her prayers were little more than lists of requests. Afterwards, her prayers were dotted with long stretches of listening.
She has been practicing listening prayer for about a year when she attended a church committee meeting that disturbed her. One of the members of the committee, John, seemed determined to take control of the whole meeting. He was pushing his narrow opinions and refusing to listen to anyone.
Susan left the meeting seething. She knew she was supposed to love her Christian brother but love seemed impossible. John was obnoxious and dictatorial. He had stirred up dissension among all of them.
While Susan was waiting in the car for her son to emerge from school, she prayed a listening prayer: “Lord, show me what’s in John’s heart.”
Susan mentioned John’s name to her son on the drive home.
“John came to our campout this summer,” her son said. “He fought in the Vietnam War. He told us he had to do lots of things he didn’t want to do.”
“Maybe that’s why John’s so controlling,” Susan thought. Then she remembered that the corporation John worked for was undergoing a massive downsizing because of the recession. John could well lose his job.
Susan phoned the other committee members the next day and mentioned John’s war experience and the instability of his current job. They were all concerned and decided to pray for him. Without even trying, Susan had become an instrument of peace.
We may not be able to bring about the peaceable kingdom to the entire globe, but we might be able to bring it to our neighborhood or in our church or with our circle of friends.
Like Susan made a difference in her church, we too can make a difference because the shoot from the stump of Jesse has appeared. With righteousness, he judges the poor, and decides with equity for the oppressed of the earth. He destroys the violent not by the use of force and threat of punishment and retaliation, but by speaking the truth: “with the breath of his lips he shall kill the wicked.” Righteousness and faithfulness shall be his belts, and everything he does will be directed toward justice and good order.
So, as we celebrate the coming of the Prince of Peace, are we doing whatever we can to bring a peaceable kingdom, or are we merely gravediggers in a pet cemetery? Are we influencing each other through the threats of punishment and retaliation, or through acts of love?
Do we show concern for the poor and the oppressed of the earth? Do we speak the truth in love, especially to those who are hurting themselves and others. Are we listening prayerfully to each other so that we may better understand to accept and forgive?
War No More
When I was in college during the late 60s and early 70s, I shouted, “War no more!” I marched in Washington, DC and sang, “We Shall Overcome.” It’s a beautiful vision. Isn’t it? But as I have gotten older and hopefully wiser, I realize that it probably won’t happen until Jesus comes in all his glory.
As we look to the past, we discover that there was never a time in recorded history that people have been able to live in a state of peace and harmony for a sustained period of time. But instead of pessimism, Isaiah envisions what is possible with God.
In the 60s and 70s, we were told that our youthful ideals are all well and good, but soon we’ll need to adjust ourselves to the facts of life and learn to get on in the world as it is.
Since then I’ve grown up. And now I know that these wise old men lied. They told me that I would grow up and lose my ideals and adjust to the world as it is. Thankfully, by the grace of God, I’ve lost my childish faith in the world as it is. But I have not lost my faith in what God can do!
Once I thought it would be nice someday to receive an invitation to the White House. But today, I now have the maturity to refuse the invitation. Once I thought that if there were just enough young people who would refuse to fight in a war, we would have peace. But today, I now have the maturity to see that the world doesn’t have enough Gandhis, Martin Luther Kings, and Quakers.
There’s just not enough righteousness and faithfulness loose in the world, not enough people who are committed to practicing love instead of punishment and retaliation.
In the Meantime
But in the meantime, in this Advent season of preparation and in the days beyond, we can graft our lives to the shoot that has emerged from the stump of Jesse, and pray for his peace to fill us and transform us.
Isaiah said, “The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together, the cow and the bear shall graze, their young shall lie down together; and the lion shall eat straw like an ox.” Those who normally eat each other shall embrace each other. Those who normally would be in conflict with each other will serenely coexist with each other.
Last Thursday, five people from our church attended a Muslim, Jewish, and Christian Round Table Dialogue. We came from our various and different religious traditions to learn more about each other—even if it was for a couple of hours. We have been hard-wired to be suspicious of each other. We have learned to live and work apart from one another. We who normally would be in conflict with each other learned to coexist in dialogue even if it was for a couple of hours.
What a glorious vision! For every one of us who has learned firsthand what it means to “hurt and destroy,” Isaiah’s prophecy of the peaceable kingdom stands before us as a hope from God.
The shoot from the stump of Jesse is Jesus the Christ, a little child shall lead us. Jesus the Christ, only a nursing child shall play over the hole of the asp and the weaned child shall put his hand on the adder’s den. And in God’s peaceable kingdom,
the wolf and the lamb
William Penn and the Indians
the leopard and the kid
the Quakers and the Germans
the calf and the lion
the Palestinians and the Israelis
the cow and the bear
the Americans and the Taliban
shall all lie down together so that we may eat straw. So that we may bake holiday cookies and arrange flowers. So that we may paint pictures of the Peaceable Kingdom instead of digging holes in pet cemeteries. So that as Isaiah says,
“They shall not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain; for the earth
will be full of the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea.”
We shall overcome, we shall overcome, we shall overcome someday! Oh, deep in my heart I do believe that we shall overcome someday.
Let us pray.
Dear Lord, with open arms we welcome you into our hearts to seek your forgiveness for all the things that we have done to wrong our neighbors. Lord, we are sorry for causing violence, abuse, revenge, and retaliation that only perpetuates the vicious cycle of war. Show us how to live in your peaceable kingdom today. We pray in the name of the Prince of Peace. Amen.