A Shoot of Hope

“There shall come forth a shoot from the stump of Jesse, and a branch from his roots shall bear fruit…They shall not hurt or destroy on my holy mountain; for the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea.” Isaiah 11

“Suffering and solidarity with the suffering of others has an immense capacity to ‘make room’ inside of us. It is probably our primary spiritual teacher.” -Richard Rohr

December has arrived, and so have I, hitting the ground running into the craziness of American Christmas celebration. I saw Christmas trees and garlands as soon as I walked through customs and into the Chicago O’Hare airport. So far, I’ve had peppermint coffee concoctions, and eggnog, and fudge. I’ve heard carols, and watched holiday movies. I’ve used something called Jamberry to put festive holiday designs on my fingernails. I’ve driven through a fantastical light show at James Island County Park.

I’ve been back in the country for all of 5 days. I would say I’ve been using my time wisely.

The glitter and sparkle and shine is, at times, a little overwhelming. It’s so very different from Christmases I’ve spent in Uganda and Sudan, and also very different from the quiet story of a small stable, a humble couple, an at-risk baby, and shepherds and animals.

This weekend I’m in Charleston, visiting close friends from college. Absence has a strange way of tempting me to doubt my relationships with people, and so I relish the opportunity to reconnect face-to-face with people who know me well. I’m grateful to be here.

Yesterday, I spoke at Redeemer Church, sharing about life in Kenya and how Advent reminds us that this good news is for ALL PEOPLE. I’ve gone to Uganda and Sudan and Kenya, because I remember that He has come to us, and His coming empowers us to go until the earth is filled with the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea.

After church, I was at Laura and Robbie’s house, and we put up the tree. As a kid, I never thought about the practice of putting up a Christmas tree, but as I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized that it is kind of weird to bring a tree into your house. Maybe that’s why I’ve been struck this week by the verse from Isaiah that talks about a branch that bears fruit coming from the stump of Jesse. From something that seems dead, and lifeless, and like a failure; new life is coming. This is the beauty of Advent, the true sparkle and glitter and hope. So, we put up a tree, and cover it with lights. We drink eggnog and peppermint lattes. We sing and pray and see dear friends and family, and we remember that this branch, this shoot from a stump, is something to celebrate.

I know Christmas can be a hard time. And there are likely places in your life where you are disappointed or discouraged, where you wonder what is going on, and if anything good will come out of it. Even if your personal circumstances feel perfect, you don’t have to look to far too feel this loss and brokenness of the world around us. I hope, as Richard Rohr says, that suffering can “create space” for you this holiday season and that in that space there will be a shoot of hope that grows and spreads. May that hope then transform a suffering world, until the earth is filled with the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea.