That we all May be Oaks of Righteousness
The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me to bring good news to the poor; he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound; to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all who mourn; to grant to those who mourn in Zion — to give them a beautiful headdress instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the garment of praise instead of a faint spirit; that they may be called oaks of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that he may be glorified. Isaiah 61:1-3
All three of my children are fairly artistic. Both my wife and I lean creative, so we’re not surprised by their aesthetic interests. Plus, we’ve spent a lot of time encouraging it in them and have tried to provide copious amounts of tools and materials for their creative endeavors. If you have young kids, you can imagine the mess it leaves behind … with the constant shrapnel from their explosive coloring, painting, or crafting sessions.
My youngest daughter recently discovered pictures of DIY acorn people – where the acorn become the head and hat, and sticks are used to make the body, arms, and legs. On her own, she decided to collect the necessary components so she could go about making these little people. While our yard doesn’t have acorns, I told my nine-year-old that I’d gladly walk through the neighborhood to help her find the perfect acorns for her projects. I couldn’t believe how well the finished products turned out.
After the acorn hunt, I held onto a couple of larger acorns to plant. Were it not for our healthy deer population who’d love to munch on a young sapling grown from seed, I’d scatter them all over the back part of our property. Being from the South, I’m a huge fan of large, stately oak trees. We have various oaks in the Midwest, but they’re not nearly as grand as the ones I grew up with. I miss home.
I would love to live in our house long enough to plant an oak tree and watch it get really big. I know it would take a long time, but it’s worth it. But as much as I’d love to have healthy oaks in my yard, I’d far rather see our three, creative children grow up to be oaks. Strong. Rooted. Flourishing. Giving shelter to many.
“Oaks of Righteousness.”
I remember where I was when I was struck by Jesus’s powerful proclamation at His home synagogue in Nazareth, recorded in Luke 4:16-21. It was my Sophomore year in college, and an older friend was talking about his involvement in a prison ministry in DuPage County, IL. This wasn’t something I would have naturally felt comfortable doing, but my friend insisted that this passage in Luke was the motivation behind his mission. When I looked up the passage, I became convinced as well, and joined him over the remainder of that year.
Luke tells one of the first (if not the first) recorded public statements of Jesus’s public ministry. Jesus opens up the scroll from Isaiah, and scans down to the part we can also find in Isaiah 61.
“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
because he has anointed me
to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives
and recovering of sight to the blind,
to set at liberty those who are oppressed,
to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor.”
Luke tells us that Jesus got up and read these first two verses from Isaiah 61 and moved to sit down. With everyone’s eyes on Him, Jesus said “Today, this Scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing” (Luke 4:21). Fascinatingly, Jesus didn’t say that these things would one day be fulfilled because He had now come. Nor did He say that He approves of what Isaiah was called to do, calling us do likewise. No, He said that all of these things Isaiah said were fulfilled right then.
Good News to the Poor. Liberty to the Captives. Sight to the Blind. Liberty to those who are oppressed. All Fulfilled.
If Jesus was concerned about the poor, the prisoners, and the oppressed, I couldn’t resist tagging along with my friend. Years later, I came across Cornelius Plantinga’s statement in his wonderful book Engaging God’s World, “Believing in Jesus means believing in His program.” In a way, this is exactly what inspired me to go way outside my comfort zone back then, and it continues to be a strong motivation behind my mounting concern for the outsiders and the “have-nots” today. Clearly Jesus had great interest in those society overlooked (and it’s one of the recurring themes of Luke’s gospel account).
A very significant part of being a Christian is a desire to become more like Jesus – to want what He wanted and do much of what Jesus did. Peter seems to have gotten this idea when seeing Jesus walk on water. He automatically connects that he should be able to do what Jesus did and be where He was. Throughout the gospel stories, Jesus spent most of His time with those whom society had rejected. So, following Jesus and His program means going where He went … to the outcasts, the invalids (those who aren’t “valid”), and the needy. The Poor. The captives. The blind. All those Jesus read about from Luke 61.
Until a few years ago, this passage continued to undergird my concern for the poor and people like them. I should be concerned about “them” because Jesus was. Then my pastor Richie Sessions radically changed my perspective by helping me to see that this passage isn’t about them … but “me.” But for God’s grace, I am the captive, the poor, the blind, and the oppressed. Of course, I should be concerned about the outsiders because Jesus very much was. But, being truly shaped by the gospel means that I’m concerned for the outsider because that’s who I was. That’s me, and it makes the poor, outcast, and lonely my brothers and sisters. But, Jesus came to rescue me along with them. We are those whom Jesus came to proclaim good news to. It’s good news because, “Today this Scripture has been fulfilled…”
While Jesus only speaks to the first two verses of Isaiah 61, reading ahead to the next verse should give us even greater excitement over what Jesus has done. God calls Isaiah to go to the outcast and do these restorative things “…that [the hurting] may be called oaks of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that he may be glorified.” Preaching good news to the poor, setting captives free, giving sight to the blind, comforting those who mourn, and binding up the brokenhearted all meet very physical and emotional needs. But, it also changes those who receive the renewing work; they become oaks of righteousness. Strong. Bold. Flourishing. Providing shelter for many … and bringing glory to God in that change.
While many of our students may not understand the notions of blindness, poverty, or captivity, they’re still no less needy of the good news of the gospel. By showing them unmerited favor, working to bring about restoration and renewal in their lives, providing hope and peace when it’s hard to see, nurturing wonder and curiosity in their learning, and modeling mercy and forgiveness as a way of life, we are doing the very things Isaiah was sent to do … and which Jesus fulfilled, giving us confidence that it’s finally and ultimately all going to come true.
While we long to see our students become oaks of righteousness, this should not diminish our capacity to see them as needy. One of the dangers of seeing growth and success is that we can lose the capacity to see dependence. As our own children demonstrate greater independence, we can forget how young they are - all until they get hurt and coming running to us for comfort. The same is true of our students … not just because they are still developing, but because they are sinners just like we are. They need Jesus. Deeply. Just because we see them sprouting oaken branches and bearing oaken fruit, we must continue to remember how very much God has done for them. We don’t ever want our students to come to a place where they feel that they don’t need Jesus anymore. Even when they are full-blown oaks of righteousness. In fact, the strongest of oaks know where they’ve come from; they realize that they were blind, captives, poor, and lonely. They remember.
Christian education must be the most optimistic of professions, because we’re not only mindful of the part we play in furthering Christ’s Kingdom, but because we recognize that all of the good work we do is helping to shape students toward becoming oaks of righteousness. We’re not merely meeting needs (educationally, physically, emotionally, etc.), we’re participating in Jesus’s fulfillment. It brings far greater confidence in the good work we do. And, while our students may not readily appear poor, broken, outcast, or needy, they are all broken by and burdened under the cosmic effects of the Fall. They need good news. They need hope. Sight. Comfort … the sap that will nourish and grow the oaks of righteousness that will come from our classrooms and schools. May we pray that our loving Father will help us to see our task and our students in this way and to find great comfort in our callings “… that He may be glorified” (Isaiah 61:3).
