Isaiah 11:1-10 has the theme of the shoot from the stump of Jessie. Many scholars think it derives from 525-475 BC. In that case, it gives assurance for the restoration of Davidic kingdom. In the canonical context, once vain human striving for empire ends, described of Assyria in 10:28-34, a perfect king like will David will reign in Jerusalem, all the world will enjoy peace and equity. We need to read the Bible eschatologically, as a word of judgment and promise that places what “is” in this time and place on notice that it is a temporary arrangement. If we do, we will find our priorities strangely re-arranged.[1] The text shows how God will fulfill the prophecy concerning Hezekiah in 9:2-7. In the crisis Judah faces, the Lord continues to offer assurances of the future reign of a righteous king. Micah 5:2-4 is a parallel. In context, then, Ahaz is the recipient of the prophecy. However, what makes the passage memorable is the promised Davidic heir who would restore hope to the nation. The passage assumes judgment has already occurred upon the dynasty of the family of David.
In the canonical context in Isaiah, his prophesied destruction of Assyria in 10:33-34 leads to hopes centered in a new Davidic king. It is third section that concludes with the ideal king in the peaceful future. It is a messianic and eschatological prophecy. It shows how God will fulfill the prophecy concerning Hezekiah in 9:2-7, where a great light will shine, deliverance will come, because a child will be born for us, the government will rest on his shoulders, and he will have the name Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, and Prince of Peace. His government and peace will have unlimited growth. He will uphold the throne of David with justice and righteousness. In the crisis Judah faces, the Lord continues to offer assurances of the future reign of a righteous king. Ahaz is the recipient of the prophecy. However, what makes the passage memorable is the promised Davidic heir who would restore hope to the nation. Isaiah, who had been a witness to the folly of Ahaz and who with all of the house of Judah watched the armies of Sennacherib approach the walls of Jerusalem, may have foreseen then as he clearly did later (see II Kings 20:16-18) that the ax was about to fall on the Davidic line. So feeling, he comforts Hezekiah saying "The surviving remnant of the house of Judah shall again take root downward, and bear fruit upward" (II Kings 19:30) and then inscribes this poem as the surety to future generations of a coming king who would emerge as a shoot from the stump of Jesse, and rule with righteousness and inaugurate unparalleled peace.
Passages like this reveal the fear Isaiah and his contemporaries had regarding the physical violence of the age. It also projects a hope for the end of that violence. It would be interesting to explore in a culture the fear and the hope contained within its historical experience. Such an approach would require prayerful and meditative listening and a willingness to speak to such hope and fear a message consistent with the gospel or kerygma of the church.[2] The controlling factors in such reflection include the vision of incorporation into the Triune divine life, the political nature of the vision of the rule of God that involves the moral ends of the works of God, and the divine vision for human communal life as embodied in the two great commandments to love God and neighbor, the Lord’s Prayer, and the Ten Commandments.[3] This passage has a relation between negative and affirmative as it evokes the vision of eschatological fulfillment.[4] Judah experienced evil as violence, in the form of repeated military battering and the equally destructive violence of the defense. The prophet will remind us that regardless of how war-like this present reality may become, we must not forget that our destiny is to live in peace with each other and with the nature. There will be no more struggles for existence and therefore slaughter between people and beast. The oracle anticipates a new king coming out of the line of the father of David, Jesse. House of David now rules a small and weak territory, but it promises the dynasty of David will continue. This king will be infused with the Spirit and will practice justice and righteousness toward the needy. He will rejuvenate the social process, heal creation, and cause the reconciliation of creation.
First, in verse 1-5, we find a focus on a promised future ruler. It describes the ideal age as manifested in jurisprudence. The king will be endowed with prophetic insight. Regardless of the occasion of the prophecy, the blessings brought by the promised king transcend the possibilities of this age. Isaiah promises the presence of what later centuries would call the Messiah. The description of this future ruler begins with propositions of who this ruler is. He will be descend from the line of David. The Spirit of the Lord will rest upon him, he will worship the true God, and he will judge justly. To describe such a future ruler, in direct propositions is possible and necessary. However, when the prophet shifts to describe the eschatological peace itself, as a state of creatures, he shifts to metaphor and simile.[5] A shoot shall come out from the stump (geza, which could refer to the trunk of a living tree, and thus not presuppose an exilic reference to the downfall of the dynasty, rather than the stump of a tree that has been cut down, which does presuppose the exile, noting also that the northern kingdom is a burned stump in 6:13) of Jesse, the only time the Old Testament refers to the father of David in this way. This is the only passage in the Bible that refers to the (ravaged) Davidic line by the name of David's father, and the prophet uses the image of a burned stump earlier (6:13) to describe the blighted remains of the holy commonwealth. Only rarely does the Old Testament identify David by his patronym ("son of ..."), sometimes in formulaic parallelism (e.g., I Samuel 25:10; II Samuel 20:1; I Chronicles 12:18; II Chronicles 10:16), sometimes in the ordinary use of the patronymic identification (e.g., I Chronicles 10:14, 29:26; Psalm 72:20). Interestingly, in the narrative of David's rise to power in Saul's court, Saul uses the patronymic without David's name as a contemptuous circumlocution for the too intimate relationship between his heir and son, Jonathan, and the aspiring shepherd from Bethlehem (e.g., 1 Samuel 20:27, 30 [especially], 31, 22:7, 8, 13). Further, a branch shall grow out of his roots. The image draws upon the previous oracle in this reference to the high trees that represent the pride of imperial Assyria being cut down, but real strength will emerge from the lowest part, the roots, of the humble tree representing the dynasty of David. The insistence of Isaiah upon humility and displeasure with human conceit determine the contrast between 10:33-34 and 11:1. The oracle makes it clear that hard times have fallen upon the dynasty, since it is already a stump. Enemies have ravaged the Davidic line. The ax of Assyria has brought judgment. However, out of the stump, life will come. This new life will come as result of the promise of the Lord. The prophet does not say that a Davidic king is no longer on the throne, but, recognizing that the presence of a Davidic king does not in itself guarantee the practice of righteousness (Ahaz is a case in point), a future king will emerge. 2 The spirit of the Lord shall rest on him. The phrase commonly designated the divine power that equipped Israel's early charismatic leaders in the period of the tribal league. The usual verbs to describe its appearance in a leader’s personality are "to come upon," "rest upon," or "be upon." For example, Judges 3:10, describing the spirit possession of Othniel, brother of Caleb, and one of Israel's minor judges, and Judges 11:29, describing the spirit possession of Jephthah; cf. also II Chronicles 20:14; Isaiah 61:1. Other, stronger verbs designating possession commonly describe the action of the spirit upon an individual. For example, "took possession of" Gideon, Judges 6:34; "began to stir" the young Samson, Judges 13:25, although the usual verb to describe the spirit's action on Samson is "to rush," e.g., Judges 14:6, 19, 15:14; cf. also I Samuel 10:6, 16:13; I Kings 18:12; 2 Kings 2:16, etc. By no means was possession by the spirit of the Lord predictable or altogether benign; this accounts for its gradual diminution in Israel's affairs as the monarchy sought to stabilize and regularize forms and modes of leadership other than charismatic outbreaks. The present oracle reflects that routinization of leadership by spelling out what the spirit of the Lord includes. That the spirit of Yahweh should rest upon the king, particularly a king of this sort of moral and spiritual stature is not surprising (see I Samuel 10:6,10; 11:6; 16:13,14; 19:9, 23). The spirit that rests on him invests the king with three pairs of royal charismata. First, the Spirit of the Lord shall give the future ruler the spirit of wisdom and understanding. Such secular values in leaders would be desirable, of course. In Israel, such received high esteem within the wisdom school. In fact, throughout this description we can see a heavy reliance upon values reflected in the wisdom school. The first pair of gifts bestowed upon the coming king contrasts sharply with the pride of the Assyrian king who had boasted: "By the strength of my hand I have done it, and by my wisdom, for I have understanding" (10:13). Wisdom and understanding come instead from the "spirit of the LORD."Second, the spirit of counsel (skill in diplomacy) and might (strength and firmness). His gift is the gift of planning, the ability to develop battle strategy if necessary. Third, the spirit of knowledge (discernment) and the fear (awe and reverent humility) of the Lord, the most important virtue of the divinely anointed ruler of the people of God, since the fear of the Lord is beginning of wisdom (Psalm 111:10, Proverbs 1:7). He not only knows the will of God, but as a function of his fear, i.e., awe, reverence, intends to follow it. All these qualities, taken together, reflect the righteous Davidic leader par excellence. The passage has broader theological significance when we reflect upon the agency of the Spirit of God. Here is an occasion when “spirit,” which is usually a mysterious force in the Old Testament, is granting wisdom, knowledge, and understanding.[6] This passage emphasizes the work of the Holy Spirit, who is the mystery of God's Trinitarian essence attaining its full profundity and clarity. The Holy Spirit is both the innermost secret of God, and in God's relationship with humanity the revelation of the unity and diversity of the Father and the Son. The Holy Spirit is the commission of the Father and of the Son, the good pleasure of the Father and the glory of the Son, coinciding in the decree that is the intra-divine beginning of all things. In that sense, the Holy Spirit is the Spirit of wisdom and so on in this passage.[7] 3 His delight shall be in the fear of the Lord. We can see here the heightened value of the fear of the Lord in this list of qualities for the future ruler arising out of the Davidic line. He shall not judge by what his eyes see, or decide by what his ears hear. The Spirit of the Lord resting upon this future leader of the Davidic line will have the ability to discern motives. In the canonical context, a deficiency of Ahaz was his lack ability to discern the times. Ahaz (see II Kings 16) had the misfortune of being Judah's king during the Syro-Ephraimitic crisis, attempts to avert the subjugation of his country by the threatening armies of Syria (Aram) and Israel by forming an alliance with Assyria's Tiglath-pileser rather than accepting Yahweh's assurance of protection. In response, Yahweh says that as a sign to him, an almah ("young woman" [NRSV], "virgin" [NIV]) "is with child and shall bear a son, and shall name him Immanuel" (7:14). Before this child knows the difference between good and evil, the two powers about which Ahaz is fretting will no longer be a concern (7:16). The Assyrian armies, which God now brings down upon Judah as a tool of judgment, do in fact, destroy both Damascus and Samaria, i.e., the northern kingdom of Israel and Syria (ca. 722 B.C.). 4 But with righteousness he shall judge the poor, and decide with equity for the meek of the earth, and thus the messianic age will not be perfect, the difference laying in how the king responds to these problems, always rendering accurate and fair judgment where conflicts among nations continue and settle them nonviolently. Isaiah shifts to some poetic diction as the justice envisioned transcend the possibilities of this age, employing some decorative themes:[8] he shall strike the earth with the rod of his mouth, a phrase unique to this passage, although Isaiah frequently uses the image of the chastening "rod" elsewhere (more often, in fact, than any book in the Hebrew Bible except Proverbs), but the meaning is usually straightforward physical punishment (e.g., Isaiah 9:4, 10:5, 15, 24, 14:29; 30:31). The promised future ruler will also strike the earth with the breath of his lips, a phrase unique to this passage, by which he shall kill the wicked. This promised king seeks justice. 5 Righteousness shall be the belt around his waist, and faithfulness the belt around his loins. The Holy Spirit has a role in judgment. Righteousness and faithfulness shall be his belt.[9] What we have learned is that the future king places little stock in rank or station in life: He judges impartially and in fairness for the lowly and marginalized of society. He is fiercely hostile to the wicked. So strong is his spiritual presence that he wears righteousness and faithfulness like a belt, keeping him in a constant state of battle readiness against the enemies of justice. Clearly, expectations run high for this new king. The socio-political realm will experience radical change. Of course, in Israel, such expectations ran high with the ascension of a new king, as we see in Psalm 72.
The heart of the oracle is less the portrayal of the ideal Davidic ruler and more the depiction of the harmonious state of nature. In this, the vision establishes a trajectory of redemption that will assume increasing importance in later apocalyptic writings. We see here the grand vision of the peaceable kingdom, one of the most enduring expressions of hope for the world. Thus, in verses 6-9, we find paradise elements and a new order as the messianic age manifests itself in nature. The just social order affects the natural order, which expands our vision of the radical nature of the arrival of the new ruler involves. The Lord will alter the socio-political realm of human relations, and in a parallel universe of all living things, a paradise of unprecedented calm and peace will prevail. The peace that replaces violence is evoked solely in a brilliant play of figures.[10] 6 The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together. Not only will the wolf consort peaceably with the lamb, an activity foreign to the nature of both, but also their very morphology will undergo transformation. And a little child shall lead them. 7 The cow and the bear shall graze, their young shall lie down together; and the lion shall eat straw like the ox. As an example of the morphology of the animal undergoing transformation, the lion cannot survive by eating straw in the world as lit is. 8 The nursing child shall play over the hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall put its hand on the adder’s den. Returning to a description of the perfected state, Isaiah offers a negative proposition in that there will be no more violence, that stands in relation to the affirmative proposition of universal peace:[11] 9 They will not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain. In fact, no harm shall come to any of those who live under the rule of the promised king. The reason no harm will come is simple, stated in a propositionally statable vision of universal worship of the Lord: for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the Lord, which then shifts to a simile,[12] as the waters cover the sea. With its emphasis upon the knowledge of God, such knowledge also brings a new human action corresponding to the divine. It reflects the alteration that the knowledge of God brings.[13] We need to pay attention to the result in this world when the earth is full of the knowledge of the Lord. Yet, the heart of the oracle has more to do with the depiction of the harmonious state of nature in verses 6-9 (recycled in part in 65:25). This is attributable in part to the relative paucity of such detailed descriptions of animal behavior in the Bible (which focuses on human socio-historical realities), and in part to the vivid imagery that captures and holds the imagination. The image depends for its power on its juxtaposition of polar types in harmonious existence: the peaceful coexistence of wolf/lamb, leopard/kid, calf/lion, cow/bear, lion/ox, child/serpent. The image, often described as "paradisiacal," exceeds any description of Eden and is forward rather than backward looking. The peace achieved by God's ideal ruler is eschatological rather than protological, and its sweep encompasses not only human history but all of creation. In this, the vision establishes a trajectory of redemption that will assume increasing importance in later apocalyptic writings, including Paul's vision of the end of time with his "hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to decay" (Romans 8:20). Such vision encourages us to practice today respect for life, the creation account in Genesis 1 and 2 already establishing harmony between creatures that sin disrupts. This present reality that consists of violence between living things to survive, including humans eating animals and animals eating other animals, must not make us forget that our destiny is to live in peace with other animals. There will be no more struggle for existence and therefore slaughter between people and beast shall end. The animal can become the enemy of humanity, and vice versa, in this age. Creation and consummation are the boundaries of history. In this interim period, a time of human lordship over the animal combines with one in which animal threatens humanity.[14] This vision takes evil seriously. The battle between wolf and lamb in verse 6 is not one in which we can pretend to have a theodicy in which they are already, theoretically, domesticated. The wolf is not the lamb, and thus, the struggle continues.[15] The killing of animals has its place in the sphere of sinful humanity. We find in the command given by Noah that God orders such sacrifice. In the Messiania era, which is the goal of history, God will bring redemption, perfection, and general peace, including peace between humanity and beasts, in accord with the original intent of creation.[16]
This text is the prophet Isaiah's great vision of the "peaceable kingdom," one of the world's most enduring expressions of hope. Succeeding generations have rendered into paintings, music, and the dramatic arts. People have pressed into service on behalf of everything from pet cemeteries to religious vegetarianism to Christian CDs to a film about a Quaker pacifist. Isaiah's vision of a time and place devoid of the besetting miseries afflicting his own historical period, and endemic throughout most of human history, remains one of the irreducible longings of the human heart.
Finally, in verse 10, we return to the promised future ruler. The messianic age will manifest itself in the relationship Israel has with other nations. The canonical presentation suggests the theme of the promise of the restoration of Israel. However, some scholars think of verses 10-11 as post-exilic, while many think of Isaiah 11: 12-16 as from the 300s. Verse 10 would then be the third section of the oracle that began in verse 1. 10 On that day the root (once a stump and branch in verse 1) of Jesse shall stand as a signal to the peoples; the nations shall inquire of him, and his dwelling shall be glorious. He has become more than the outgrowth of David’s greatness. He will become the future source of David’s greatness, the king through whom David’s line achieves its highest potential. Nations come to Jerusalem to receive instructions. The David king will act as the prophetic conduit through whom responses to the inquires of the nations will come.
It is no wonder that the prophecies of Isaiah 7-12 became so important to early Christian exegetes. We should assign the apocalyptic scenarios in the New Testament (the Book of Revelation, Mark 13:2-27 and parallels, I Thessalonians, and other attempts to plot a sequence of events, are poetic rather than propositional. We know this because the speedy return anticipated by the apostolic age proved wrong. In that sense, the basis of Christian hope is present communion with the risen Lord. Christians hope for nothing beyond or beside Christ,f or it hopes for Christ and its hope for the future is contained in that hope. The propositional side of this is in the simple hope stated by Paul (I Thessalonians 4:17): and so, we will be with the Lord forever.[17] In this way, the promise of David’s righteous descendant seems completely realized in Jesus, and they drew the most obvious parallels to these passages, as well as less obvious ones. Jesus was clearly “God is with us” (Matthew 1:23), but he was also “the branch” (Hebrew netzer) that grew out of Jesse’s stock. Matthew 2:23 makes this connection because Jesus grew to manhood in a town whose name, Natzeret, or Nazareth, resembles this Hebrew term found in Isaiah 11:1. Coupled with the fact that through Jesus, Jewish tradition and wisdom passed forever beyond Israel and into the gentile nations, it seemed quite clear that surely Jesus was the “signal for the nations” foretold by Isaiah. Thus, although the word Messiah does not appear in the text, the passage certainly invites a Christological interpretation. The description of the coming ruler influences the way in which the New Testament describes the Messiah. Paul looked to this passage as Jesus Christ fulfilling the hope for Gentiles contained here (Romans 15:12). Further, in a poetic image, the Lord Jesus will destroy the lawless one “with the breath of his mouth” (II Thessalonians 2:8). Further still, the “Root of David” has conquered, with “four living creatures” peacefully before the slaughtered Lamb (Revelation 5:5-8). The rider on the while horse is Faithful and True, judging and making war in accord with righteousness (Revelation 19:11). A sharp sword will come from his mouth to strike down the nations and he will rule them with a rod of iron, being King of kings and Lord of lords (Revelation 19:15).
Moreover, "on that day" the remnant will "recover" from their places of exile (v.11).
Of course, this passage is not realistic. This passage is not reasonable. Apocalyptic visions as we find in this passage promise the fulfillment of humanity's deepest desires for a better world. Perhaps we have grown content with the scientific explanation of the end as death and nothingness. Perhaps we are too satisfied with the present, too content with current arrangements! The writer Flaubert spoke of that sad place where we reach our "accomplished desires."
"Our desires, though they often make us restless and unhappy, keep us moving. Perhaps the saddest thing that can happen to us is to arrive at that place where our desires have been accomplished."
All we must do is read the newspaper or listen to the news to recognize how little peace there is in the world. If we are honest, all we must do is investigate our hearts and lives. Most of us note plenty of internal warfare that we often inflict upon others. Yet, the vision of Isaiah still challenges and inspires us. That language is that of apocalyptic hope. What is this apocalyptic talk and what are contemporary Christians supposed to do with it?
Apocalyptic language is language about what we might call earth-shattering events. We strain for language to describe those events, those moments when it as if the world tilts on its axis and everything that once was crumbles and something new is born. An earth-shattering event is usually more disrupting and shaking than an earthquake, though I am writing metaphorically. When, in the book of Daniel, or Ezekiel, Jewish writers speak of the moon turning red, the clouds descending, angels gathering Israel, they write of earth-shattering events. They wrote in poetry, which is always better than prose for this sort of active, energetic language pushed to the limit. They said it in poetry, for only poetry has the power to move us to the depths, to shatter, to tear down and rebuild a world. Such language reveals the true theological significance of these events.
Robert Frost wrote a few verses in which he mused upon the significance of "God's own descent" into our troubled world in the incarnation in which God engaged "in risking spirit in substantiation."
But God's own descent
Into flesh was meant
As a demonstration
That the supreme merit
Lay in risking spirit
In substantiation.[18]
Peace exists within the vision God has for our destiny in the rule of God, but we do not have to wait for that life as if it were a distant dream. Putting into practice the way of peace will manifest peace in our lives and the world. We will find peace with God, peace with others and peace in our actions – from home to communal life, and far beyond. We will experience a deep, abiding sense within that we know our purpose and that by God’s grace we will live into God’s dreams for us.
The world this passage describes is clearly something God will do. That makes it what biblical scholars call apocalyptic, an unveiling of the future. The point of this vision of the future is that if we know where God is heading, we can get on board now. If this is God’s vision of the future, then that is the vision that God calls upon us to work for today.
First, to think apocalyptically is to think imaginatively. Emily Dickinson wrote a little verse that highlights the importance of imagination. To understand it, I needed to look up the word “reverie.” Reverie is a state of pleasantly losing oneself in one's thoughts. It can be like a daydream. It can refer to an instrumental piece suggesting a dreamy or musing state. It can mean a fanciful or impractical idea or theory. Now, hear what Emily Dickinson wrote:
To make a prairie it takes clover and one bee
one clover, and a bee,
and reverie
the reverie alone will do,
if bees are few.
We could use some people who lose themselves in their thoughts of how to make peace a reality in their personal lives, families, communities, congregations, nation, and the world. Reduced thought leads to reduced lives. We could always use some imagination, given the divisive nature of our time.
I came across a reference to a “human library.” It started in Denmark. The idea was to set up a station with 75 people with diverse types of stories to share. People of various religions, people struggling with various handicaps, and people from differing work backgrounds. The idea was that for a few days, you could “check out” a person for 30 minutes and talk with them. You could find out from a real person with a real story what it was like to be that person.
It made me think of what happen if people outside of the Christian faith could check us out and “read” us. What would they find? Would they find a strain of this vision for peace that, regardless of how imperfectly, we might seek to write into our lives? To refer to politics, donkeys and elephants do not get along well. In economics, bulls and bears seem incompatible. We have many types of Christians today, leaning toward the progressive or the conservative. Yet, I ask this seriously, do we not all have a longing for peace? Isaiah is inviting us out of contentment with our divisiveness and to lose ourselves in the thought of peace. Our tendency is to be satisfied with too little.
Second, if God were to use coercion to bring the ideal of peace into reality, we would lose something vital. Money and power can solve many problems. Human history shows it will not solve them all. God recognizes the value of each of us.
Third, this passage reminds us of the path we need to take in our journey of life. In the story of Beauty and the Beast, Presbyterian author Frederick Buechner observes, it is "only when the Beast discovers that Beauty really loves him in all his ugliness that he himself becomes beautiful." Only when we discover that God loves us in all our unloveliness that we ourselves start to become godlike. The word for this transformation is sanctification, and it is a long and painful change "because with part of themselves sinners prefer their sin, just as with part of himself the Beast prefers his glistening snout and curved tusks." However, little by little, "The forgiven person starts to become a forgiving person, the healed person to become a healing person, the loved person to become a loving person. God does most of it." Moreover, the end of the process is eternal life.[19]
It also reminds us of how distant we are from God's way. It inspires us be on the path that will lead to the fulfillment of God's vision for human destiny. I would have some surprise if you did not think of this prayer attributed to St. Francis:
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace!
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.
O Divine Master,
grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love;
for it is in giving that we receive;
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.
Egypt had lapsed into stagnation, punctuated by civil war. It had broken up into numerous small states. Assyrian kings looked with desire upon Egypt, so rich and so defenseless. Tiglath-pileser III advanced to its border. Assyria was in control of Gaza, the gateway to the land of the Pharaoh. Around 720, conditions changed. Ethiopia had become powerful. Its ruler Shalako invaded Egypt, seized the throne, set up a strong, unified government, and inaugurated the 22nd dynasty. Egypt carried on intrigues in the southern part of the Assyria Empire and sought to encourage the subjugated states to rebel against the enemy. The agents of the Ethiopian king instigated Philistines, Moab, Edom, and Judah to join Ashdod in a coordinated attack upon Assyria. They arrived in Jerusalem to induce Judah to join the alliance and promised military support.[20]
[1] (Richard B. Hays, "The Future of Reading the Bible in the Church," The Circuit Rider, September 1999)
[2]
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[4]
[5]
[6]
[7]
[8]
[9]
[10]
[11]
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[13]
[14]
[15]
[16]
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[18] (Robert Frost, "Kitty Hawk," In the Clearing [Holt, Rinehardt, 1962], p. 49.)
[19] (Wishful Thinking: A Seeker's ABC [New York: HarperCollins, (1973) 1993], 104).
[20]
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