Lectionary Reflection for Advent 3A on Isaiah 35:1-10
SMALL THINGS AND TRICKSTERS
There is a seductive tendency in much of contemporary Western society to view only that which is large, significant, dramatic, or popular as valuable. Even in Church circles, Christians easily fall into thinking that if God is at work, then ministries and programmes should automatically flourish, which is defined as growth in numbers, financial income, and public visibility. This obsession with the extraordinary is often coupled with a spirituality that sees God as a divine superhero constantly swooping into our lives to do dramatic and supernatural acts to save, fix, or protect us.
But it doesn’t take much investigation to see that the most significant events in our world are usually the result of a staggering number of small, seemingly insignificant actions done by ordinary people. Prominent public figures have an impact on the world, of course, but no one can rise to a position of influence, or make any significant difference in the world, unless crowds of ordinary people support and work with them. A leader with no followers is just a person. But a person acting in concert with other people can change worlds, as the history of protest movements has shown. According to John Briggs and David Peat, society is held together by myriad tiny feedback loops, and each of us has an enormous, albeit subtle, influence on these loops.1 Who we are, and the small, daily actions we perform, have an impact on those around us, and this subtle influence, when combined with others, can truly transform our lives and societies.2 As Margaret Mead famously said, “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has”.
The third week of Advent is centred on joy, but many of us are feeling anything but joyful at this point in history, as we witness world leaders and tech billionaires trying to shape the world to fit their self-serving agendas, while silencing their opponents in whatever way they can. It can be easy to fall into despair when we compare our individual insignificance with the power and wealth of these people. But this is exactly the kind of scenario that the Advent season addresses.
Advent calls us to remember that our way to joy is not found through rich, powerful, and famous people, but through the small, intentional acts of creativity, defiance, and mutual care that we share with family, friends, and neighbours. The Gospel writers emphasised this truth in the birth of Jesus by naming the most important and powerful people of their time, and then turning the spotlight away from them and to the poor, marginalised, and ordinary people through whom God was working.3 Every element of the Jesus story reveals the transforming power of ordinary people who choose to become what Briggs and Peat call ’tricksters’:
Trickster figures show the way creativity can overcome overwhelming odds. Tricksters see beyond the limits of the system and bend the rules.4
When we refuse to lose our determination to experience joy, beauty, awe, and love in the face of grief, fakeness, mundanity, and hatred, we become tricksters who defy the powers that seek to oppress and divide us. And in choosing to create our own joy in a joyless world, we join a long tradition of tricksters that goes all the way back to the prophet Isaiah and beyond.
A WORLD MADE NEW
The Lectionary for Advent 3A takes us to a rather enigmatic and misplaced prophecy in Isaiah 35:1-10. Barbara Lundblad begins her commentary on this passage by declaring, “This text shouldn’t be here”. She goes on to write:
Some say this hopeful promise belongs to Second Isaiah. Others argue that it comes even later—sixth century BCE or later still—surely after the exile. This poem comes too early. Who moved it? Some things even our best scholarship cannot explain. The Spirit hovered over the text and over the scribes: “Put it here,” breathed the Spirit, “before anyone is ready. Interrupt the narrative of despair.” So, here it is: a word that couldn’t wait until it might make more sense.5
After the many oracles of judgment in the previous chapters, this vision comes as a surprise. Whether it was written in the context of exile, after the people had returned, or at some other time, we can’t know for sure. But in the context of First Isaiah, we can say that as the people of Judah were dealing with great uncertainty and trauma, the prophet looked past the immediate realities of their injustice and political ineptitude, past the consequences of their bad choices, and past the hunger of the dominant empires of their time, and saw a vision of a new reality.6 He described what he saw in images of surprising fertility and unexpected restoration, of overwhelming joy and extravagant abundance. Peppered with promises of God’s salvation and dramatic images of healing and security, Isaiah’s vision can easily be interpreted as the supernatural work of a supernatural God. But a closer look reveals that this is not really the essence of Isaiah’s message.
