Advent 1, 30 November 2025

Rev. Dr. Howard Wallace

Isiaah 2:1-5

Isaiah speaks of a time and a place that are far off – ‘in days to come’. It is a time and a place imagined by the prophet. A time and a place where unheard of and unexpected things – good and delightful – take place. It all happens around the Jerusalem temple and concerns the future of the temple. But it is expressed in mythic, imaginary language.

In the ancient world, the world of the gods fitted in with the world that we know and experience. The gods lived up there in heaven. Their heavenly palaces were, of course, luxurious places. They were located on a mountain, in a place of great fertility with trees that never lost their leaves as many earthly trees did. Those trees had special powers for those who partook of them. Rivers flowed out from this special place and watered the whole earth. The earthly temple dedicated to a god or goddess echoed elements of that heavenly dwelling in its design and construction. The purpose of that was to make the dwelling of the god or goddess among their people more likely, more comfortable, so to speak. Jerusalem’s temple, the centre of Israelite worship for centuries was no different in this regard to the temples of the peoples around about them.

Of course, in reality, the temple in Jerusalem was but a weak shadow of this ideal. It was built on a small hill in the city – lower than the hills nearby. For much of its history it was a small building, little more than a royal chapel and access to it was restricted to officials and the aristocracy. But Isaiah sees a different future for this temple. In his mind’s eye, in his imagination he sees the small hill in Jerusalem as the highest of mountains; all the nations will flock to it. God’s ways will be taught to all who come there and from there God will deliver justice and righteousness. Peace will reign. Weapons of war will become tools for food production. The instruments of death will become tools providing life. The temple will be the new Eden, a new paradise, truly reflecting that heavenly world. In this passage we look, as it were, into the distant future to the end of God’s purpose for creation even before we hear the story of the birth of Jesus, the first born of that new era.

Isaiah takes us on this journey to a far-off time in order that the vision he sees will shape our living now. It is God’s vision for the future with all people finding purpose and wholeness in the presence of God. With all people letting their lives be an expression of God’s ways of peace, compassion and support. Justice will be universally applied and wars will cease. Working the earth will be for the benefit of all. Isaiah imagines this future. Isaiah’s imagination, indeed our imagination, is a gift from God so that we might understand God’s purpose in the midst of a struggling world; so that we may have hope.

But now let me take you to another vision. The picture you see is of a sculpture outside the UN building in New York. It is entitled ‘Let us beat swords into ploughshares’ and is by a sculptor Evgeniy Vuchetich. It is, of course, based on Isaiah’s vision and was given to the UN by the Soviet Union in 1957. While the sculpture captures the sense of the biblical vision in a literal way, there is no little irony in it as a gift. It was given just four years after the end of Stalin’s reign with its deathly treatment of his own people, and in the period of Russian control of Eastern Europe, and of the gulags where dissenters to the regime were cruelly imprisoned. This irony continues even today.

But even beyond the irony of the gift note the form of the figure. It is clearly in that brutalist Russian style familiar after WWII and presents a powerful, muscular figure bending a sword into the shape of a plough – a feat which would require even more strength than is evident here. But in any case, is this what Isaiah is getting at, or more importantly, is this what our faith understanding suggests is the way to perceive Isaiah’s vision?

We are quite aware that good acts which might lead to peace, if done from a position of power, can easily become oppressive themselves. In such cases the peace achieved is illusory. The present state of the cease fire discussions over the war between Russia and Ukraine is a clear example. We should also keep in mind that on this first Sunday of Advent our thoughts are turning toward the celebration of the birth of Jesus, who comes to us from the kingdom of God, that far off future imagined in Isaiah’s vision. In Jesus God comes to us in the form of a babe who will grow into a man who will be crucified. All that suggests that the way to God’s future is not through coercive, power-driven means. The kingdom of God is not gained through strength. God’s ‘power’, if you like, is to be seen in weakness and vulnerability.

In Advent, as we approach Christmas, we get a clearer and clearer picture of the way God works in the world. We will see it in future weeks in the witness of John the Baptist and then Mary, the mother of Jesus. But before we get there, here at the start of Advent we are given a broader perspective on the peace and judgment that stands against all that would destroy life and lives. Through Isaiah a vision of where we are going is set before us. We are asked to imagine for ourselves that future and to link that vision to that of the babe in Bethlehem.

In Advent we are called to be watchful, attentive, waiting, compassionate, concerned and God centred, aware of both the future God calls us to and the way God is working it out in our present world. We are called to imagine how we might participate in bringing about that future – even if only in small ways. We are called to take God’s perspective on all things, at a personal level, within our community and in relation to national and world events. That perspective is shaped by the future God calls us to and the gentle, peaceful, loving and compassionate ways of Jesus Christ, the one whom we proclaimed king last week but who comes to us not wrapped in purple robes but swaddled in bands of ordinary, probably dirty cloth.

Amen