Oaks of Righteousness

Have you ever had a talkative child? One that once they get something in their head, they absolutely must get it out and there is no shushing them, regardless of how utterly embarrassing it is to you as their parent? (Ask me how I know.) Some things are just so important that you have to get it out! It gushes out of you, run-on sentences and all because it is just that important. People accuse the Apostle Paul of this in several of his letters, but my favorite example is Isaiah 61:1-3. Here it is, quoting from The New International Version:

The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners, to proclaim the year of the LORD's favor and the day of vengeance of our God, to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion-- to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of despair.

After the first line, the rest of that paragraph is all one sentence. (Any English majors care to diagram it?) Because it is so important-- such a complete thought-- Isaiah just HAD to blurt it all out in one breath. Luke 4 tells us that at the start of his ministry, Jesus went into the house of worship in his home town and stood up to read. The scroll of Isaiah was handed him, and he read that very passage aloud to all his friends and neighbors.

Then he rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant and sat down. The eyes of everyone in the synagogue were fastened on him, and he began by saying to them, "Today this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing..."

That was his mandate. To do all the things in that passage. And that's our mandate too.

A couple of weeks ago, God showed me the trunk of an oak tree that was completely covered in beautiful brightly-colored little flowers. At first I thought they were butterflies, but as I looked closer, I saw they were beautiful little flowers. Each one was different, and the tree almost shimmered. Woah! "God, what does this mean?" No response. But a few days later, I was asking God about it and the phrase "Oaks of Righteousness" came to mind. Huh? I looked it up and found it is the last half of Isaiah 61:3 and is a continuation of the above passage:

"... to comfort all who mourn and provide for those who grieve in Zion-- to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.

They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the LORD for the display of his splendor."

But who is the "they" this verse calls oaks of righteousness? It's the recipients of the actions of the first three verses. The poor. The brokenhearted. The captives. The blind. The ones in mourning. Hey, that's me! I have been spiritually poor, broken-hearted at times, a prisoner to sin, and spiritually blind. But I encountered Jesus and he has been setting me ever more free ever since. As a believer, his mandate is now mine also; to bind up the brokenhearted, proclaim freedom for the captives, and to comfort those who mourn.

My friend Freeman is living this out in her friendship with a condemned prisoner, a fellow believer who will die soon for his crimes committed long ago, unless God intervenes. Through their conversations they comfort and encourage each other.

This week I had significant dreams about being falsely accused and condemned to death. (These were episodes 2-4 in what is currently a four-part dream mini-series.) In the recent dreams, the moment had finally arrived, and I was preparing myself. I felt led to share the dreams with her after hearing about her pen-pal, and she in turn shared similar ones of hers. Her response really moved me.

"Your dream reminds me that I am not alone in that strange place where God allows us to witness death, but from the inside. And maybe its not just about death-- but about surrender, about being willing..."

It IS about surrender. About being willing. But sometimes God shows such things to us, not as a "THIS IS GOING TO HAPPEN TO YOU" moment, but to allow us to empathize. To see through another's eyes. To provoke us to compassion and prayer. To give us empathy in place of our callousness. "What do I care about a prisoner on death row?" I might have said in my heart a week ago. Well, I care a good deal more now.

I believe all the pretty little flowers on the oak of righteousness I saw represent interactions with others as we live out this mandate. Like my college friend who went and sat with a stranger as the woman's husband lay dying. Like my friend Freeman, who is keeping her pen-pal company as his execution approaches. Little interactions with others. Small kindnesses. Little flowers for the display of His splendor.

Bind up the broken hearted.

Proclaim freedom for the captives.

Release the blind from darkness.

Comfort all who mourn.

Proclaim the year of the LORD's favor.

Grow some flowers for the display of His splendor.