The Jesse Tree. The family tree that Jesus descends from. Did you expect a mammoth? A thick, sturdy trunk and branches spread like a cathedral ceiling? The reality is a stump. The stump of Jesse with a tiny, little shoot. But it's there, fulfilling all of God's promises.
God keeps all his promises and shows his righteous judgement on David's descendants who so openly and arrogantly rejected God and the tree became a stump. But he shows his grace and mercy in allowing that shoot to grow! Gaze on shoots of glory to grow deep roots in God. (5)
The theology of the Tree, of the Cross, always seeks the presence of God in the belittled gifts of the world.
The small Babe of Bethlehem, the dismissed Son of God, the stripped and beaten Messiah hanging exposed on the Tree … (5) Not what people were looking for in the King that was to come and save them. But things seldom are as they seem.
Question #2 - my answer
I'm yearning to grow in my appreciation of the Gift and grow in knowledge of the Giver.
Feel free to comment on your own answers, thoughts or something that struck you.
2 comments:
Hi Rachel, I've just read the passage for December 1 and was struck by the sentence on page 4: "And seek the shoot that bears witness to God - the hardly noticed child...". Today in Sunday School, I was assigned parts for the Christmas program to my students. There was a bit of an issue with the angel - Rebekah (who always comes to Sunday School) wanted to be the angel, but so did Mallory (whose parents only bring her for the Chrismas program and its practices). A dilemma. Then, Erin, put up her hand. She is extremely quiet and timid, and I don't think anyone's ever heard her speak. I asked her what she wanted. She wanted to be the angel (in a very subdued whisper). A silent angel, I asked. She shook her head. You want to talk?, I asked. She nodded her head. No one would have asked her, or thought of her. She is the forgotten child. But I bet she's going to make a great angel!
Question 1: The feeling of a lifeless stump, when I realize how very small and helpless I am without the tender shoot of hope, my Savior's gift of wondrous love.
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