What has to happen in order for something new to arrive?  Sometimes it may seem that cataclysmic activity must occur in order to issue in newness.  When a ‘newness’ arrives through violence and destruction, the ability to transition and respond in a way that is non-reactive is severely reduced, perhaps even impossible.  That is not to say that a gradual move toward a new horizon is always the most effective.  The truth is that we many times do not have a choice in the matter as to how something new arrives in our lives.   It is, however, worth looking at the possibility of somehow predisposing ourselves to ‘newness,’ or to anything that may come our way that is different and perhaps challenging for us.  What can we do to prepare ourselves to receive the unknown, unforeseen events that have the potential to transform us?

The prophet Isaiah (Is 11:1-10) seems to want to say that something can “sprout” from a “stump.”  Something can actually begin to grow, i.e., be born from something that has been cut down or even rotted – a stump.  The idea of something arriving or issuing forth – budding – from an unexpected place places us as ‘receivers’ of this ‘newness’ in a position wherein we can either be reactive and angry or open and questioning.  The ‘newness’ that Isaiah is speaking about has to do with a Spirit of wisdom, understanding, counsel and strength.  But the traditional contexts that we have for these items (wisdom, understanding, counsel and strength) are characterized in a paradoxical way.  That which is on the verge of being born is something or SomeOne who will show us an entirely new way of seeing and engaging in life:

“…the wolf shall be a guest of the lamb,
and the leopard shall lie down with the kid;
The calf and the young lion shall browse together,
with a little child to guide them.
The cow and the bear shall be neighbors,
together their young shall rest;
the lion shall eat hay like the ox.
The baby shall play by the cobra’s den,
and the child lay his hand on the adder’s lair.

The combinations of these animals in Isaiah that were known to be ‘enemies’ or opposites are described as co-existing in such a way that they not only do not afflict one another, but actually engage in each other’s lives.  They browse, eat, sleep, rest and play together.  And amidst all of these animals that would seemingly oppose each other there is a “little child to guide them,” and who goes so far as to “play” in close proximity to of all things, poisonous snakes.

This panoply of opposites is somehow brought together in a ‘new world’ wherein the normal oppositional nature between them is not only suspended but transformed.  There is a “third” something or Someone who mediates this transformation.  And apparently the way to see this possibility of “newness” defies all rational and rigid mindsets.  In fact, it takes the mind, or more appropriately perhaps, the heart of a “child” to see.

Jesus seems to be saying something about this in the Gospel (Lk 10:21-24) today:

“I give you praise, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, for although you have hidden these things
from the wise and the learned you have revealed them to the childlike”

 It’s the curious wonder of a child that can discover that which those of us who consider ourselves to be highly educated and experienced fail to see.  Isaiah and Jesus seems to be saying that there is a way of holding what appears to be oppositional in such a way that dignity is maintained and moreso reverence is given to each “side”  so much so that an unexpected child with new life is born.  A child brings forth a child.  When this happens, the differences between ‘right and wrong’ can then step down from an unassailable tower of morality and lie down in love with others in the primal ‘garden’ wherein the Loving Gaze of our creator is enough for us.  Far from devoid of responsibility and accountability, this ‘child’ being born in our hearts is one that ‘knows’ the source of its life – the God of Love moving about in everyone and everything around it.  It’s the possibility for full engagement.

What could it mean to be born again in this Advent season?  It is as perplexing a question for us as it was for Nicodemus when Jesus proclaimed that to him.  What are the stumps of our lives that seem dry and dead, perhaps rotten, which can indeed be the very birthplace of something new and transformative?  Are we willing to wait in hope for that ‘newness’ that is on the verge of being born?  Are we willing to actively participate in that hopefulness, with the determined heart of a child open to wonder and sustained in Love, constantly reaching lovingly for others to play.

Peace,

Thomas