Thirty years ago, interviewing the very private actress Katherine Hepburn, Barbara Walters posed the question, “If you were a tree, what kind would you be?” Hepburn replied “an elm” and gave reasons for her choice. Watching that interview, I was surprised she had not replied “an oak.” After all, in southeast Texas—where I grew up—the oak is a magnificent tree, growing in the rich soil of the bottomlands. In Texas, the oak is a symbol for grace, strength, and longevity—3 traits I observed in Katherine Hepburn. At the time of the interview, I was living in Austin where downtown there stood a vigorous, mighty 500 year-old oak tree named “Treaty Oak.”
It is the lone survivor of a grove of oaks sacred to the indigenous Tonkawa and Commanche native Americans. If Barbara Walters had asked me what kind of tree I wanted to be, I would have replied “an oak!”
In today’s text we hear, “They will be called oaks of righteousness.” Isaiah is speaking to and about the Jewish exiles who have returned to Jerusalem. All those years in captivity—time enough for 2 generations to be born and grow into adulthood—all those years in captivity, the exiles had longed for their homeland, Judah. As the older generations told their stories, the younger ones listened and learned of days of glory, of a strong and fortified Jerusalem, of a fertile land with thriving vineyards, of a people chosen and blessed by God. The exiled people wept over what was lost until the prophet Isaiah brought them words of hope—words we heard last Sunday. God saying, “Comfort my people. Tell them they have served their time. Tell them I am making a smooth, level road to speed my reunion with them, a road for them to travel with me back to Judah.” Those words brought hope to the Jewish people living in captivity—hope that God had not abandoned them, hope that God would lead them back home.
And they did return to their homeland. When, Cyrus, king of Persia defeated Babylon, he not only released the Israelites, but he also commissioned Jewish leaders holding positions of power within his empire to lead the exiles home and to oversee the rebuilding of their temple. Imagine how hopeful the exiles must have been as they traveled—home to their land, home to their temple, home to their dreams of renewed glory.
But when they arrived, they found devastation. The temple, razed to the ground at the end of the Babylonian siege 50 years before, was still in ruins. The city, although inhabited, was not fortified and resembled a rambling outpost more than the capital city of a God-blessed people. The land, once dotted with well-tended vineyards and olive groves barely sustained those who currently inhabited it. There was much to do and few resources from which to draw. Imagine how the enormity of the task of rebuilding tempered their joy at returning home. It is to this group of people—several years after their return from exile, tired from laying the groundwork for rebuilding, disappointed with the results so far, still just barely getting by—It is to this group of people that Isaiah speaks the words from today’s text—words of encouragement.
Empowered by God’s spirit Isaiah promises restoration and renewal. Empowered by God’s spirit, the people will complete the rebuilding.
Isaiah speaks words of hope. The people will be oaks of righteousness. “The biblical oak was an evergreen tree . . . never shed[ding] its leaves . . . it always seemed to remain ‘alive.’”[1] God is promising life—flourishing life—for the people. They will be oaks of righteousness. The righteousness referred to here is not strict adherence to rules or regulations. Righteousness here is relational.
They will have a burning compassion for others. The land will be cultivated, so that none will go hungry. The city—including its infrastructure and economy—will be rebuilt so that all will be able to work and contribute to the community’s life. The temple will be restored so that everyone might worship the sovereign God who brought them out of exile, the faithful God who promised to bless all peoples of the earth through them, the loving God who created them for relationship.
The people will be oaks of righteousness. Listening to Isaiah’s prophecy, they probably did not feel strong, faithful, alive—like mighty, evergreen oaks—not yet. But God’s promise, spoken through the prophet begins the cultivation of these seedling people. They will, in time, grow into majestic oaks of faithfulness and righteousness. They and their descendents will cling to these words for 500 years—awaiting God’s anointed one, the Messiah, who will bring good news to the afflicted, freedom to the captives, and usher in not the year of the Lord’s favor, but the reign of God here on earth.
Can these words of promise and hope, spoken over 2500 years ago to Middle Eastern people returned from exile in a foreign land—Can these words speak to us—free, 21st century Kansans?
What do we know about rebuilding, restoring, renewing?
What do we know about much to do and few resources upon which to draw?
What do we know about being tired from long, hard labor?
What do we know about recapturing glory days?
We are well-acquainted with these challenges. So, Isaiah’s prophecy of promise speaks to us, too. We will be oaks of righteousness.
For through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus the Christ, we are planted in fertile, river-bottom land. Through the power of the Holy Spirit we are cultivated to grow in our faith. God’s love shines on us, and God’s grace rains on us, nurturing in us a burning compassion—invigorating us to love—to love God with all our heart and soul and mind and strength and to love others as we love ourselves.
Like all trees, we begin as a seed; we start small. Our roots must reach deep into the earth before our seedling grows very thick or tall. Our roots must reach out underground for nutrients and deep moisture before our branches are covered with leaves. It is this deep rooting in faith that prepares us to be shade from heat and shelter from storm for those who find their way to our grove.
Two Sundays ago I shared with you that this Advent, I would “Keep Watch” for Christ’s coming by attending to Christ’s presence in my day-to-day life. I said I would ponder the question, “When was I closest to Christ this week?” Keeping Watch for Christ’s presence is a way of sending my roots deep into fertile soil that will help me grow into an oak of righteousness.
Although that Sunday, I shared a “closest to Christ” moment for that week, I did not intend to use you as my accountability group during Advent. But last Sunday afternoon, one of you said to me, “Mari Lyn, I’m going to hold you accountable. You did not tell us in worship today how you experienced Christ in your life this week. And I want to know.”
So, I will share with you: Two weeks ago I found myself in Christ’s presence through hospitality. During that week, several different people took time from their days to sit and visit with me, to share their memories, their hopes and dreams, and their fears. In the gifts of their time and open communication, I was in Christ’s presence. These people were oaks of righteousness for me, and their hospitality nurtured this sapling.
When was I closest to Christ this past week? On Wednesday evening, I came here, to this sanctuary and listened as the choir practiced for tonight’s Vespers service. As their practice flowed from greetings and laughter to introspection and song, their music washed over me like rain on the leaves of a tree. It seeped into the trunk of my oak soul.
Isaiah’s prophecy includes us. We, too, are acorns (oak seeds) planted by God. In this season of Advent, as we prepare ourselves for Christ’s coming, may our roots dig ever deeper into the soil of God’s Word, and may they draw moisture from God’s loving presence, so that we, too, are filled with the hope of becoming oaks of righteousness.
(The photograph of Treaty Oak was found at http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3552/3411898690_afe65d6240.jpg)
[1] (George A. F. Knight. Isaiah 56 – 66: The New Israel. International Theological Commentary series. Grand Rapids: Wm B. Eerdmans, 1985, p. 56.)
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