December 15: A Little Child Will Lead
♫ Music:
Day 14 - Saturday, December 15
A Little Child Will Lead
Scripture: Isaiah 11:6-10
And the wolf shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; and the calf and the young lion and the fatling together; and a little child shall lead them. And the cow and the bear shall feed; their young ones shall lie down together; and the lion shall eat straw like the ox. And the sucking child shall play on the hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall put his hand on the adder’s den. They shall not hurt nor destroy in all my holy mountain; for the earth shall be full of the knowledge of Jehovah, as the waters cover the sea. And it shall come to pass in that day, that the root of Jesse, that standeth for an ensign of the peoples, unto him shall the nations seek; and his resting-place shall be glorious.
Poetry:
(to crave what the light does crave)
by Kevin Goodan
to crave what the light does crave
to shelter, to flee
to gain desire of every splayed leaf
to calm cattle, to heat the mare
to coax dead flies back from slumber
to turn the gaze of each opened bud
to ripe the fruit to rot the fruit
and drive down under the earth
to lord gentle dust
to lend a glancing grace to llamas
to gather dampness from fields
and divide birds
and divide the ewes from slaughter
and raise the corn and bend the wheat
and drive tractors to ruin
burnish the fox, brother the hawk
shed the snake, bloom the weed
and drive all wind diurnal
to blanch the fire and clot the cloud
to husk, to harvest,
sheave and chaff
to choose the bird
and voice the bird
to sing us, veery, into darkness
A LITTLE CHILD WILL LEAD
The turkey, the land turtle, and the monkey accompany the scriptural lion, wolf, and lambs of in John August Swanson’s vibrant Latin American flavored serigraph. Does the moon from the dazzling starry sky conjure the light emblazoning the flat iconographic image? I fancy rather that it is the light that which comes from the candle whose guarded flame is kept by the indigenous native child. What quiet command and poise in the center of the tableaux. What resplendent brightness. I am convinced that the Kevin Goodan’s glancingly graced llamas are not far off canvas. What do we make of the less distinct light carriers journeying along the path in ones and twos some distance away from this peaceable gathering?
Join me in seeing the one figure on the path nearest the gathering as craving what the light does crave, to see all beauty and created good encompassed by the ‘desire of every splayed leaf,' rightly ordered so as to ‘brother the hawk,' under the leading of a little child. The traveler approaches the source of light humbly and fearfully. After all, this is a strange nocturnal sight. The prophet Isaiah is given to dream of the holy mountain of the Lord where there is no destruction or hurt, ewes can be divided from slaughter. Such peace is ensured by the knowledge of Jehovah – it spreads as the waters cover the sea, as the light from the candle floods the night sky. This shall come to be, we are told, through the root of Jesse. This child is the one whose birth we anticipate again this advent. In him our hope is that the budding to ripening to rotting of our fruit; the raising and bending of wheat, the husking, harvesting, and sheaving and chaffing, will all find their end not in further cycles of want, hunger and inequity, a famine of fear which leaves the nations in competition and envy, but rather meeting the desire of the nations in a glorious resting place. How marvelous then for this traveler to discover that peace for the nations is peace for creation. That the path opens up to pasture for predator and prey alike.
Biola’s fellow Californians have good cause, as I write, to fear the wind diurnal that blanches the fire under our clotted clouds of smoke. We distrust our hillsides and forests as the potential crackling cauldrons of destruction and loss. As we mourn death and devastation in recent wildfires, how we crave what the light does crave, the breaking into darkness of the creator of all things, Jehovah made flesh, Jesus the child who will usher us, sheltering and fleeing, into a peace eternal.
We are called to be humble if we are going to be led by the child Jesus. Rather than imagining ourselves as the bold creatures of Swanson’s foreground, might we find ourselves to be the chosen and voiced veery of today’s poem? The veery (I had to look it up) is a brown-white, migratory thrush of indistinct markings - unsuited for Swanson’s canvas perhaps – that closes Goodan’s poem ‘singing us into darkness.’ Advent invites us to travel with the light of Jesus like Swanson’s two companion figures far back on the path. I them imagine heading back down the mountain, away from the peaceable scene. We can step into this season coming into Jesus’ light. We can also take the good news of God’s coming in the flesh into the darkness of the distant mountain shadowed valleys, that is, into the world of our daily encounters, struggles and relationships.
Prayer:
May the night of our lives that awaits the fullness of the day of the Lord be illumined by the testimony and hope of the coming of our creator and redeemer God, in the person of Jesus. May we humble creatures find ourselves gently lorded by the Light of the World. May we attend your calling, Lord, to migrate your good news into our world as sharers of your peace in word and deed. As neighbors near and far mourn lives lost and seek to rebuild livelihoods destroyed, provide O Lord.
Amen.
Andy Draycott
Associate Professor of Theology and Christian Ethics
Talbot School of Theology
Biola University
About the Artwork:
Peaceable Kingdom, 1994
John August Swanson
Serigraph on paper (limited-edition 250)
30 in X 22 ½ in
Peaceable Kingdom is an illustration of Isaiah 11:6-8: “The wolf shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; and the calf and the young lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them…” This glorious bejeweled vision of peace and reconciliation, created using 47 stencils, presents Isaiah’s prophecy with the conviction, clarity and directness of childlike faith. At its center stands the child holding a single candle next to a peacock, a symbol of resurrection and eternal life since the early Christian church, under a star-studded ultramarine blue night sky.
About the Artist:
John August Swanson (b. 1938) is a painter, printmaker, and mixed media artist born in Los Angeles, California, who is most widely-known for his limited-edition prints of biblical stories and themes. His work is technically masterful characterized by vibrant color, elaborate pattern, and intricate detail. His unique style draws on Islamic and medieval miniatures, Russian iconography, the Mexican muralist tradition, Latin American folk art, and his own Swedish and Mexican heritage. His works have been reproduced in large scale in mosaic and mural painting in California: at Concordia University in Irvine, St. Matthew’s Lutheran Church in Glendale, and the former Crystal Cathedral in Anaheim. In 2005 Swanson was one of 33 Inaugural recipients (including Pope John Paul II, Bishop Desmond Tutu, and President Jimmy Carter) of the Mother Teresa Award, for achievements that beautify the world. His art is represented in the permanent collections of many museums, including: The Smithsonian Institution’s National Museums of American History, American Art, and Air and Space; the Art Institute of Chicago, Harvard University’s Fogg Museum, the Tate Gallery, the Victoria and Albert Museum in London, the Bibliothèque Nationale in Paris, and the Vatican Museums’ Collection of Modern Religious Art. Extensive collections of Swanson’s art and archives of his work and papers are held by Luther Seminary in St. Paul, Minnesota, and Emory University’s Candler School of Theology in Atlanta, Georgia.
http://www.johnaugustswanson.com/
About the Music:
“Starrs” from the album The Ravishing Genius of Bones
About the Composer and the Performer:
Brian Finnegan (b. 1969) is an internationally-acclaimed tin whistle and Irish flute player. Finnegan has played in several touring bands, most notably the virtuosic folk quartet Flook. His solo album The Ravishing Genius of Bones contains original compositions evocative of Finnegan’s family roots and upbringing along the coast of Northern Ireland. The track “Starrs” is dedicated to his grandmother, in memory of the many stories she told him growing up.
About the Poet:
Kevin Goodan (b. 1969) was born in Montana and raised on the Flathead Indian Reservation where his stepfather and brothers are tribal members. Goodan earned his BA from the University of Montana and worked as a firefighter for ten years with the U.S. Forest Service before receiving his MFA from University of Massachusetts-Amherst in 2004. Goodan’s first collection of poetry, In the Ghost-House Acquainted (2004), won The L.L. Winship/ PEN New England Award in 2005. In an interview with Goodan for Astrophil Press, poet Gregory Lawless noted the “breathtaking moments of solitude” of Goodan’s style, which “exhibits both pastoral eloquence and psychological intensity.” Goodan’s poems have been published in various journals, including Ploughshares, The Colorado Review, and The Mid-America Poetry Review. His second collection, Winter Tenor, was published in 2009. Goodan has taught at the University of Connecticut and has served as Visiting Writer at Wesleyan University. He currently teaches at Lewis-Clark State College and resides in Idaho.
About the Devotional Writer:
Andy Draycott
Associate Professor of Theology and Christian Ethics
Talbot School of Theology
Biola University
Andy Draycott is a British immigrant scholar living in Southern California with his family. He is a lifelong Charles Schultz’ Peanuts fan, enjoys reading novels and social history, cycling, running and baking. Currently, he is an Associate Professor of Theology and Christian Ethics at Biola’s Talbot School of Theology. He counts God’s blessings in Christ, in local church, in family life, and in delightful work colleagues.