Extending a Hand
Isaiah 11:1-11
December 9, 2007
Leslie A. Klingensmith

Several days ago, my family was in a local toy store looking for a birthday present for one of Samuel's friends. As is often the case, Samuel was distracted in the toy store by all the wonderful things, so he had gone off to play with a model train and I was trying to find a suitable gift. Suddenly I heard the voice of my own son and another slightly familiar one a couple of aisles over. "Samuel!" I heard the voice exclaim with joy. "Brendan!" Samuel responded. "You're in my class at school!" "But I'm here now, and we saw each other!" "Yeah!" said Samuel, bubbling over with enthusiasm. Their excitement was adorable - to encounter each other somewhere besides the playground or the classroom was overwhelming. As the parents converged on the train aisle to find our kids, we found them deeply engaged in their conversation, heads only inches from one another.

"Mom," Brendan said, holding up a small, brightly colored bracelet, "can I give this to Samuel?"

"It's up to you, sweetie," replied Brendan's mother.

"Samuel, I'd like you to have this," Brendan said. As I looked more closely, I saw that it was one of those "snap" bracelets that were popular with kids about 10 years ago. You snap them on your arm and they make a cool popping sound and wrap around your wrist. If you were here at church last Sunday, you might have seen Samuel's snap bracelet. He was so proud of it, and was showing it to everyone.

That day in the store, though, I was really touched by Brendan's gesture, especially when I realized that Brendan's mother had just brought him the bracelet that morning. "Brendan, are you sure that you want to give that to Samuel?" I asked. "That's your new bracelet."

Brendan stood up very straight, like a little man, and said "Samuel and I usually only see each other in school, but we found each other today in the toy store. To celebrate that, I want to give him this bracelet. My mom got me two of them. I don't need two. One is fine. I'd rather give this one to Samuel." Realizing that I was witnessing a rare gesture of friendship and unselfishness from a child, I backed off and permitted Samuel to accept the bracelet.

There was another interesting twist about the bracelet that has led to some wonderful conversation in our household. As I was returning to the task at hand and purchasing the birthday party gift, I was listening to Brendan and Samuel talk. The snap bracelet had dreidels on it. Brendan and his family are Jewish and were preparing to celebrate Hanukah. "Which do you celebrate?" Brendan asked. "I think we celebrate all the holidays," Samuel said. I could tell it had not entered his mind that there were other traditions that have different rituals from our own. Brendan is a little older and he had much more information. "What do you have in your house, a Christmas tree or a menorah?" he asked matter of factly.

"Christmas tree, definitely." Samuel replied.

"That means you are a Christian and you celebrate Christmas. I am Jewish and we celebrate Hanukah." Brendan then gave Samuel a tutorial on the role that the dreidel plays in the Jewish Festival of Lights, and Samuel seemed pleased to learn about it. As we left the store, Brendan and Samuel gave each other a high five and admired each other's bracelets. I thought to myself as I watched them. "Extending a hand is a snap." More about that later.

Ever since that day in the toy store, Samuel has been asking more questions about our own faith and that of his friends. Hanukah officially began last Wednesday, so they have been learning about the holiday at school, lighting a candle each day and singing appropriate songs. Several times, Samuel has asked questions like "What makes someone Jewish?" or "How come we are Christians?" Ed and I have been trying to boil our answers down to responses that a four-year-old can take in, which is tough. Above all, we have tried to help Samuel understand that we believe all people are God's children and that we have different beliefs from our Jewish sisters and brothers, but also many beliefs in common. Relationships between Jews and Christians are complicated, and we all know there are many good reasons for that. As I watched those two little boys in the toy store that day, though, and witnessed their pure delight in finding each other and being together, I thought that we can take some lessons from our children in how to approach one another with openness and learn from each other with a sense of wonder. I have no doubt that both those precious boys belong to God in life and in death.

"And a little child shall lead them." There are always things to learn from our kids. The prophet Isaiah outlines a vision for the world where nations and individuals are free from posturing and jockeying for power, where we can approach each other with the same sense of safety and mutual acceptance that Samuel and Brendan showed last Saturday in the store. Isaiah says that God never stops seeking out God's children, that even as the Israelites are being scattered in the diaspora, God's plan is already to extend a hand to bring them home. Those of us who have placed our faith in God's promises have an opportunity now, in our world today. We can extend a hand. We can act on the belief that God wants all people united in a spirit of reconciliation and peace. We can watch our kids extend a hand to one another, seemingly effortlessly, and see the hand of God reaching out, bringing people together, still in the process of creating the world that Isaiah describes with such stunning poetry. (PAUSE)

Isaiah can be tough reading, because judgment and salvation are so intricately intertwined in his prophecies that it is impossible to separate them. Are we to fear God's wrath or rejoice in God's grace and salvation? This passage that we are looking at today, for instance, comes after almost two straight chapters of reprimanding Israel for her arrogance and for her oppression of other peoples. Isaiah warns the Israelites that the nation of Assyria is not going to put up with this much longer. Assyria is likened to an ax in the hand of God that will reduce Israel to briers and thorns. Isaiah often uses images from the natural world in his prophecies, and the predominant metaphor throughout this section of the book is deforestation. Once Assyria is through with them, the Davidic empire is reduced to a stump. Its very survival is in question.

Keep reading, though. Isaiah is far from all doom and gloom. There is hope even in the midst of a gigantic mess that Israel has created for herself. Ultimately, Assyria will not prevail. A remnant of Israel will survive and will rebuild. A shoot of new growth will issue from the stump. Isaiah 11 promises a new king, a new age in the life of Israel, reunification of the Northern and Southern kingdoms, reunion of the diaspora, and a time of harmony and peace. The first five verses of this passage describe the characteristics of the one who would come to lead Israel into this new age. One catch though - this new ruler is likely not going to be the political and military strongman that the Israelites have come to expect from their leader. Historically speaking, the first King of Israel after the Assyrian assault was Manasseh, who inherited the throne as a young man and ruled for 55 years. He was terrible, with little aptitude for leadership. The prophecy definitely was not fulfilled in him. As Christians, we see Jesus as the fulfillment of Isaiah's prophecy. Certainly God's Holy Spirit was with him, he was a being of tremendous wisdom and understanding, an advocate for the poor and a righteous judge. But even those of us who have placed our faith in Christ have to raise the question - When is it all going to be made right? If we believe that Jesus' birth fulfills what God promises through Isaiah, how come there is still so much suffering in the world? Why do people continue to fight one another?

Verses 6-9 cause us to ask these questions with even more fervor, because these things obviously have not happened. In keeping with his use of the natural world for imagery and metaphor, Isaiah uses animals that we know as predator and prey to describe what the new kingdom will be like. The wolf will live with the lamb . . .the leopard will lie down with the baby goat . . .the calf and the lion and the fatling, all will be together . . .and a little child shall lead them. Babies can play over the hole of the asp, and toddlers can touch the adder's den. Most academics agree that in this context the predator animals symbolize aggressive, predatory nations and the gentler animals the smaller, weaker nations. Isaiah is saying that the world is going to be a safe place. People can be who they are without fear of being eaten alive. Hurting and destroying one another will not be part of the cost of doing business, for everyone will have come to understand who God is and what God envisions for us, for "the earth will be full of the knowledge of the Lord."

It is possible to read this passage and think that Isaiah is saying that in this new day to come everyone is going to be an Israelite. As part of our history, we Christians have certainly interpreted this verse and others like them to mean that everyone at the end of time will be Christian. I want us to consider the possibility that God thinks bigger than we can, that many different faith traditions can include elements of the ultimate truth of God's love shown to us in Christ. What we have come to see over the last 2,000 years is that God's timing is not the same as our own. We believe that the fulfillment of this prophecy was inaugurated with the birth of Jesus Christ, and that its complete fulfillment is yet to come. Maybe the complete fulfillment has not occurred because we human beings keep muddying the waters by trying to fit everyone into one mold and picking fights with everyone whom we see as any kind of threat to our way of thinking and living. It's not just Christians who do it, but pretty much every major faith tradition over the course of history has tried to make some other group bend to their will. We mistakenly think the safety and unity Isaiah describes can only come about if everyone is alike. Maybe if we all back off and consider the things that we have in common while also giving thanks for our God-given differences, just maybe we can move a little closer to making these promises the reality within which we live.

I was taken with the picture in verse 11 of God reaching out, extending a hand to God's people stretched and scattered all over the earth. In a specific historical situation, God promised through Isaiah to keep extending that hand until all the people of God were brought back together. One of the gifts of the season of Advent is that it reminds us that God is still holding that hand out to us, calling us home, calling each of us to that holy mountain where no one is hurt or destroyed, where true peace exists and people thrive. If we try, we can see God extending that hand in seemingly ordinary circumstances, like two little boys bumping into each other in a toy store. God's hand is extended when we reach out to one another in faith, proudly sharing who we are and at the same time opening ourselves to who they are. Sometimes it is scary to put ourselves out there like that - extending a hand makes us vulnerable. But let's let the little children lead us - they do it much better than we do anyway.

Thanks be to God. Amen.