[ad_1]
Two weeks ago I visited our old family church, in the far north of England. I was placing flowers by my parents’ gravestone, in front of memorials to my grandparents, great-grandparents and sundry uncles and aunts. But my eye was drawn, as it has often been, to the Jesse Window in the east end of the twelfth-century church.
“Jesse Windows”—a traditional medieval design in stained glass—display Jesus’ ancestry in the form of a spreading tree. The genealogy goes back a thousand years to King David, and then to David’s own father, Jesse of Bethlehem.
This way of telling Jesus’ story picks up a prophetic text often read at Christmas time. Isaiah Chapter 11 speaks of the coming king as “a shoot from the stump of Jesse” and “a branch [which] grows out of his roots.” The passage promises that “the root of Jesse” will be a sign of peace and hope for all the nations, filling the whole earth with “the knowledge of the Lord.”
[time-brightcove not-tgx=”true”]
Earlier, the prophet described this coming king as “the prince of peace” (9:6). That famous phrase crops up, perhaps wistfully, in many Christmas carols, along with the mention of Jesse himself. A recently popular carol speaks of “A spotless rose” which comes from “the tender root of Jesse.” Flowery language, rooted in scripture, for a horticultural theme.
Isaiah’s original oracles of peace burst in upon a world of warring nations. The prophet saw them, in vivid symbols, as animals who would finally live in peace together in a renewed creation. “The wolf shall live with the lamb; the leopard shall lie down with the kid; the calf and the lion and the fatling together; and a little child shall lead them” (Isaiah 11:6).
That “little child” links back again to the infant Jesus. The picture of animals living in peace under his guidance translates easily into the Nativity scene: Jesus in a manger, Mary and Joseph looking on, with ox, ass, lambs and even camels all clustering round. Killjoy rationalists might object that the…
[ad_2]
Source : time
