For the week of the 2nd Sunday in Advent, pastors are welcome to utilize this homily for church members on hospice, adding and subtracting what they desire. A sermon hymn is added if the pastor wishes to sing to the dear saint.
Festival: 2nd Sunday in Advent
Text: Isaiah 11:1-10
Sermon Hymn: LSB #357 O Come, O Come, Emmanuel
Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
The prophet Isaiah speaks into a world that had grown cold. “There shall come forth a Rod,” he said, “from the stem of Jesse, and a Branch shall grow out of his roots” [v. 1]. Jesse’s family tree—once mighty through David—had been reduced to a mere stump. It looked dead. It looked as though God’s promises had dried up. Yet Isaiah insists that from that stump, life would break forth again. A Branch would rise where no one expected life. This is the promise of Christ’s first Advent in the small town of Bethlehem. In the quiet humility of the first Christmas night, life sprang up from what looked like nothing. God brought hope where hope had withered. He sent His Son not as a prince born in a noble house to await His inheritance of the Roman Empire, but as a lowly child of poor newlyweds, laid in a manger. Where the world saw a mere stump, God planted salvation.
Isaiah describes this Branch with breathtaking detail: the Spirit rests upon Him—wisdom, understanding, counsel, might, knowledge, and the fear of the Lord [vv. 2-3]. Obviously, this is no ordinary king, for His justice is perfect, His judgement true, and His righteousness unwavering. “He shall not judge by the sight of His eyes, nor decide by the hearing of His ears,” Isaiah tells us [v. 3]. He doesn’t judge by appearances, which is good news for sinners like you and me. That means Jesus doesn’t measure you by your frailty, your failures, or how well you’ve endured suffering, or how strong you faith feels on any given day. He sees deeper than that, just as He said when He chose David as king of Israel, “The LORD does not see as man sees; for man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart” [1 Samuel 16:7b]. So His justice isn’t quick to condemn, and His righteousness doesn’t overlook the broken and the repentant. He lifts up the poor, He defends the helpless, and He comes near to those who know they can’t save themselves. In His first Advent, He came not to crush but to heal—not to destroy, but to redeem.
Then Isaiah paints a picture so gentle, it almost startles us: wolves dwelling with lambs, leopards lying down with goats, cows and bears grazing together, lions and oxen eating straw together, and children playing near cobras and vipers, all completely unharmed—an unimaginable peace [vv. 6-7]. This is the real Christmas—the Prince of Peace entering a violent world to restore harmony between God and His creation. His birth was the beginning of that peace; His cross purchased it. His resurrection broke open the tomb so that peace wouldn’t be temporary but eternal. For now, the world still bears its thorns—suffering, decay, conflict… death. But in Christ, the restoration has already begun. The Branch has sprouted; branches are growing from Christ the Vine. The peace has dawned. And in Him, you already belong to this new creation that’s coming.
This is the Second Advent—the final unveiling of the Kingdom that began on that first Christmas night. In that day, death will not be merely delayed like it is on hospice. It’ll be undone. And pain won’t be merely managed; it will vanish. The creation that groans now will sing. Every wound sin has carved into the world will be healed. Every tear sorrow has drawn from your eyes will be wiped away by Christ’s own finger. The peace He secured in His first Advent will finally fill all things in His second.
Until that day, the promise stands firm for you: “In that day there shall be a Root of Jesse, who shall stand as a banner to the people; for the Gentiles shall seek Him, and His resting place shall be glorious” [v. 10]. [Name], you are among those who’ve sought Him, not by your strength, but by His grace. The Root of Jesse has claimed you in your Baptism, forgiven you through His cross, fed you with His life, and carried you through every dark valley. Even now, as your strength wanes or as fear stirs within you, the Branch holds you. Winter may linger in this world, but Christ is already making all things new. The day is coming when the eternal spring shall break forth—the day when wolves and lambs, pain and peace, death and life will no longer struggle, for Christ will reign openly over all.
May the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, guard your heart and mind in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.
The Lutheran Column 