In the courtyard of our condominium there is a giant weed that stands about 7’ tall, with a thick stem and a root I imagine goes as deep into the earth as the leaves stretch toward the sky. I hate this weed. I hate weeds in general, but I save a special disdain for these tree-like weeds that mar the good order of our garden and refuse to die.
Then I hear the words of the prophet Isaiah, “the root of Jesse shall come,” and the apostle Paul, “even now the axe is lying at the root” and I reconsider.
In a season as dominated by the mandatory good cheer of shopping malls as this one, as we fight against the culture of consumerism spread like Roundup on a garden plot, designed to kill off anything other than uniform covetousness, I give thanks for the gospel of self-giving that stands tall, head held high, in the person of Christ Jesus.
And then I think about us, St. Luke’s, and how we simply refuse to die. How we stand out, odd and unplanned and beautiful. The root of Jesse shall come, and the body of Christ will stand against every axe.
Come Thou Long Expected Jesus!