Seeking Comfort
Text: Isaiah 40:1-11
As I promised last week, my text for preaching this morning is found on the coins the children helped me pass around the previous Sunday.
“Comfort, O comfort my people!” Says your God… The glory of the Lord shall be revealed…
Yet at the same time, contrast that with some of the images that we’ve heard in the news…
About ten days ago, on the day following the American Thanksgiving, there was an incident that perhaps best represented the worst of a consumerist society. Maybe you heard this. The day following the American Thanksgiving is the busiest shopping day of the year in the United States… akin to our Boxing-day sales up here.
It was at a Wal-Mart in Long Island New York, where a large crowd had gathered early in the morning to get in on some of the deals to be had. As it was clear the store was beginning to open, the crowd moved closer to the door. A 34-year old employee came forward to open the door, and no sooner had he unlocked it than the crowd surged forward, forcing themselves through the entrance, and knocking the employee to the ground where he was trampled to death.
What’s worse, is that when the store was closed by the police, many of the shoppers who were part of that stampede were indignant that they had to stop shopping…
Comfort, O comfort my people!” Says your God… the glory of the Lord shall be revealed…
You would have to be living under a rock this past week to miss the political circus. Regardless of one’s political stripe, it has left political-watchers stunned… and just about everybody has an opinion on it. I think someone was taking the saying “may you live in interesting times” a bit too literally… because every time we switch on the TV, there’s a new twist and turn… and because of political manoeuvring, we get to endure this for another six weeks!
Comfort, O Comfort my people! says your God… the glory of the Lord shall be revealed…
Added to the news this week, three more Canadian Soldiers died, bringing the number of war dead in Afghanistan to three figures. That hasn’t happened since Korea.
Within our own community, we mourn Al Bannerman who died late Friday. He was one of our founding members, and who had key responsibility for building this very space that we now worship in. In our history book, there is a picture of him participating in the ground-breaking ceremony.
Comfort, O Comfort my people! says your God… the glory of the Lord shall be revealed…
If any of you saw me on Tuesday morning, you would know that I was looking a bit groggy. Scratch that… I was practically a zombie… Pale… deep dark rings under my eyes… you know the look. I had managed to get no more than 90 minutes of sleep the night before, as my daughter had an unusually restless night. She hadn’t been feeling all that well, and bad dreams, a cough, a sore ear, and several other factors compounded together that from about midnight on she would wake up every 25 minutes or less… and several of them were on the scale of a temper tantrum.
In the end, all she wanted was comfort… an assurance that in the midst of her own discomfort and unrest that there was something there to assure her, to talk to her calmly, and to hold her gently… No matter how weary or tired her parents were.
Comfort, O Comfort my people! says your God… the glory of the Lord shall be revealed…
Maybe that’s what we’re looking for… in the face of what has been one of the most uncertain economic news in years, maybe it’s all about words of comfort.
The comforting words echoing from Isaiah this morning were from another time, another place… but the universal need for comfort reaches across time and space. It speaks to us in a way that is more profound than we realize.
Once at a worship service at my theological school, the professor leading worship announced the Gospel. Normally we have taken the Gospel to mean one of the first four books of the New Testament: Matthew, Mark, Luke or John. Yet when Jim announced it, he said “the gospel reading today, believe it or not, is Isaiah, chapter 40.”
In this case, Jim was taking the term “gospel” quite literally… not as in one of the first four books of the New Testament, but as “Good News.”
There is comfort in good news to be sure… but in a fall fraught with economic uncertainty, plus a political circus where things were/are changing so fast during the week that I couldn’t possibly put a comment to print without it being out of date by the time I climbed into the pulpit. Right now, the good news isn’t what we’re hearing from the world around us.
But that’s what makes these words even more powerful.
God’s words of comfort, echoing from Isaiah were spoken to a community that had long since stopped hearing good news. For them, it wasn’t just a few months of bad news… it was for several generations. A community held captive on the banks of the Euphrates River, held in exile for more than seventy years from their homeland of Israel. So many decades before, the armies of King Nebuchadnezzar had marched on Jerusalem, devastating the Promised Land, destroying the city, and razing the great Temple to the ground. Not content with leaving Israel in ash and ruin, the Babylonians carried away the best and brightest Israel had to offer. Forced to walk the hard road to exile under watchful guard, it seemed as if all had been lost. The prophets of doom were right... No one listened to them before, but everyone listened to them now.
So we think we have it bad this December… imagine enduring bad news for eighty years!
It is into this context that the prophet speaks:
“Comfort, O comfort my people,
says your God.
2Speak tenderly to Jerusalem,
and cry to her
that she has served her term,
that her penalty is paid,
that she has received from the Lord’s hand
double for all her sins.”
Finally, some good news, in the midst of all the bad… and yet the courage it took to proclaim this when those who lived in Exile had all but given up on God. Eighty years they waited for this… and some had held out hope.
This assurance was proclaimed at a time when almost all hope of Israel’s restoration had evaporated. There was nothing left… no life, no spirit.
The prophet’s voice continues:
3A voice cries out:
‘In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord,
make straight in the desert a highway for our God.
4Every valley shall be lifted up,
and every mountain and hill be made low;
the uneven ground shall become level,
and the rough places a plain.
5Then the glory of the Lord shall be revealed,
and all people shall see it together,
for the mouth of the Lord has spoken.’
Again, many of these words have been made famous in Handel’s Messiah. The Anthem we sang this morning is based directly on this proclamation. God is about to do a new, and wonderful thing. It’s not here yet… but it’s going to be…
Imagine yourself amongst a people who had endured crippling bad news for eighty years. How open to this would you be? How optimistic?
And yet as Christians, in the midst of bad news, doom and gloom, and personal sorrow, this is where the proclamation of hope really does grant comfort.
Somewhere along the line, Christians have gotten a reputation of liking the past better than the future. Somehow if we all “get back” to a given time, to those values we once held, to those things that we remember as being good, that the world will be a better place.
And yet that is not what the prophet is proclaiming here. For what we hear from Isaiah is that the real hope in God is in the future. The best is yet to come, even when the world around us is crashing in. In fact, those very things that we hold onto and hold dear will ultimately crumble into dust:
6A voice says, ‘Cry out!’
And I said, ‘What shall I cry?’
All people are grass,
their constancy is like the flower of the field.
7The grass withers, the flower fades,
when the breath of the Lord blows upon it;
surely the people are grass.
8The grass withers, the flower fades;
but the word of our God will stand for ever.
The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God will stand forever. This is where the good news is. No matter how dark the present may be, the future is truly in God’s hands. Everything else will fade away, but in God, hope endures… and this is where we can find comfort. For us as Christians, the future is not dark and scary, but a place in which God’s wholeness and hope are realized. The prophet is so compelled with this kind of optimism, that it truly cuts loose as the passage finishes:
9Get you up to a high mountain,
O Zion, herald of good tidings;*
lift up your voice with strength,
O Jerusalem, herald of good tidings,*
lift it up, do not fear;
say to the cities of Judah,
‘Here is your God!’
10See, the Lord God comes with might,
and his arm rules for him;
his reward is with him,
and his recompense before him.
11He will feed his flock like a shepherd;
he will gather the lambs in his arms,
and carry them in his bosom,
and gently lead the mother sheep.
The coins that we gave out last week, of course, have portions of verse 1 and 5 on it. A few of you commented to me this week as how much you have come across them. Not necessarily as an automatic invitation to prayer, but how they served as a brief reminder of God in the midst of your everyday hustle… particularly this time of year when everyone is so busy… and many of us are both trying to avoid the news and are compelled to listen to it. This reminds us that it is in the midst of bad news in the world that God’s proclamation of Good News comes. If those coins or keytags or whatever else we do remind us, even if only for a moment, that the future is in God’s hands… then we can begin to understand the comfort we hear proclaimed in Isaiah.
Maybe that’s our challenge this Advent. Remember that when we flip the coin over, the picture of the Christ child is a symbol of that future hope… to seek comfort when all we hear is doom and gloom… and to remember that for Isaiah, that comfort came not from looking to the past… but looking to the future with hope, even in the midst of a dark present. God calls us to do the same.
Amen.
As I promised last week, my text for preaching this morning is found on the coins the children helped me pass around the previous Sunday.
“Comfort, O comfort my people!” Says your God… The glory of the Lord shall be revealed…
Yet at the same time, contrast that with some of the images that we’ve heard in the news…
About ten days ago, on the day following the American Thanksgiving, there was an incident that perhaps best represented the worst of a consumerist society. Maybe you heard this. The day following the American Thanksgiving is the busiest shopping day of the year in the United States… akin to our Boxing-day sales up here.
It was at a Wal-Mart in Long Island New York, where a large crowd had gathered early in the morning to get in on some of the deals to be had. As it was clear the store was beginning to open, the crowd moved closer to the door. A 34-year old employee came forward to open the door, and no sooner had he unlocked it than the crowd surged forward, forcing themselves through the entrance, and knocking the employee to the ground where he was trampled to death.
What’s worse, is that when the store was closed by the police, many of the shoppers who were part of that stampede were indignant that they had to stop shopping…
Comfort, O comfort my people!” Says your God… the glory of the Lord shall be revealed…
You would have to be living under a rock this past week to miss the political circus. Regardless of one’s political stripe, it has left political-watchers stunned… and just about everybody has an opinion on it. I think someone was taking the saying “may you live in interesting times” a bit too literally… because every time we switch on the TV, there’s a new twist and turn… and because of political manoeuvring, we get to endure this for another six weeks!
Comfort, O Comfort my people! says your God… the glory of the Lord shall be revealed…
Added to the news this week, three more Canadian Soldiers died, bringing the number of war dead in Afghanistan to three figures. That hasn’t happened since Korea.
Within our own community, we mourn Al Bannerman who died late Friday. He was one of our founding members, and who had key responsibility for building this very space that we now worship in. In our history book, there is a picture of him participating in the ground-breaking ceremony.
Comfort, O Comfort my people! says your God… the glory of the Lord shall be revealed…
If any of you saw me on Tuesday morning, you would know that I was looking a bit groggy. Scratch that… I was practically a zombie… Pale… deep dark rings under my eyes… you know the look. I had managed to get no more than 90 minutes of sleep the night before, as my daughter had an unusually restless night. She hadn’t been feeling all that well, and bad dreams, a cough, a sore ear, and several other factors compounded together that from about midnight on she would wake up every 25 minutes or less… and several of them were on the scale of a temper tantrum.
In the end, all she wanted was comfort… an assurance that in the midst of her own discomfort and unrest that there was something there to assure her, to talk to her calmly, and to hold her gently… No matter how weary or tired her parents were.
Comfort, O Comfort my people! says your God… the glory of the Lord shall be revealed…
Maybe that’s what we’re looking for… in the face of what has been one of the most uncertain economic news in years, maybe it’s all about words of comfort.
The comforting words echoing from Isaiah this morning were from another time, another place… but the universal need for comfort reaches across time and space. It speaks to us in a way that is more profound than we realize.
Once at a worship service at my theological school, the professor leading worship announced the Gospel. Normally we have taken the Gospel to mean one of the first four books of the New Testament: Matthew, Mark, Luke or John. Yet when Jim announced it, he said “the gospel reading today, believe it or not, is Isaiah, chapter 40.”
In this case, Jim was taking the term “gospel” quite literally… not as in one of the first four books of the New Testament, but as “Good News.”
There is comfort in good news to be sure… but in a fall fraught with economic uncertainty, plus a political circus where things were/are changing so fast during the week that I couldn’t possibly put a comment to print without it being out of date by the time I climbed into the pulpit. Right now, the good news isn’t what we’re hearing from the world around us.
But that’s what makes these words even more powerful.
God’s words of comfort, echoing from Isaiah were spoken to a community that had long since stopped hearing good news. For them, it wasn’t just a few months of bad news… it was for several generations. A community held captive on the banks of the Euphrates River, held in exile for more than seventy years from their homeland of Israel. So many decades before, the armies of King Nebuchadnezzar had marched on Jerusalem, devastating the Promised Land, destroying the city, and razing the great Temple to the ground. Not content with leaving Israel in ash and ruin, the Babylonians carried away the best and brightest Israel had to offer. Forced to walk the hard road to exile under watchful guard, it seemed as if all had been lost. The prophets of doom were right... No one listened to them before, but everyone listened to them now.
So we think we have it bad this December… imagine enduring bad news for eighty years!
It is into this context that the prophet speaks:
“Comfort, O comfort my people,
says your God.
2Speak tenderly to Jerusalem,
and cry to her
that she has served her term,
that her penalty is paid,
that she has received from the Lord’s hand
double for all her sins.”
Finally, some good news, in the midst of all the bad… and yet the courage it took to proclaim this when those who lived in Exile had all but given up on God. Eighty years they waited for this… and some had held out hope.
This assurance was proclaimed at a time when almost all hope of Israel’s restoration had evaporated. There was nothing left… no life, no spirit.
The prophet’s voice continues:
3A voice cries out:
‘In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord,
make straight in the desert a highway for our God.
4Every valley shall be lifted up,
and every mountain and hill be made low;
the uneven ground shall become level,
and the rough places a plain.
5Then the glory of the Lord shall be revealed,
and all people shall see it together,
for the mouth of the Lord has spoken.’
Again, many of these words have been made famous in Handel’s Messiah. The Anthem we sang this morning is based directly on this proclamation. God is about to do a new, and wonderful thing. It’s not here yet… but it’s going to be…
Imagine yourself amongst a people who had endured crippling bad news for eighty years. How open to this would you be? How optimistic?
And yet as Christians, in the midst of bad news, doom and gloom, and personal sorrow, this is where the proclamation of hope really does grant comfort.
Somewhere along the line, Christians have gotten a reputation of liking the past better than the future. Somehow if we all “get back” to a given time, to those values we once held, to those things that we remember as being good, that the world will be a better place.
And yet that is not what the prophet is proclaiming here. For what we hear from Isaiah is that the real hope in God is in the future. The best is yet to come, even when the world around us is crashing in. In fact, those very things that we hold onto and hold dear will ultimately crumble into dust:
6A voice says, ‘Cry out!’
And I said, ‘What shall I cry?’
All people are grass,
their constancy is like the flower of the field.
7The grass withers, the flower fades,
when the breath of the Lord blows upon it;
surely the people are grass.
8The grass withers, the flower fades;
but the word of our God will stand for ever.
The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God will stand forever. This is where the good news is. No matter how dark the present may be, the future is truly in God’s hands. Everything else will fade away, but in God, hope endures… and this is where we can find comfort. For us as Christians, the future is not dark and scary, but a place in which God’s wholeness and hope are realized. The prophet is so compelled with this kind of optimism, that it truly cuts loose as the passage finishes:
9Get you up to a high mountain,
O Zion, herald of good tidings;*
lift up your voice with strength,
O Jerusalem, herald of good tidings,*
lift it up, do not fear;
say to the cities of Judah,
‘Here is your God!’
10See, the Lord God comes with might,
and his arm rules for him;
his reward is with him,
and his recompense before him.
11He will feed his flock like a shepherd;
he will gather the lambs in his arms,
and carry them in his bosom,
and gently lead the mother sheep.
The coins that we gave out last week, of course, have portions of verse 1 and 5 on it. A few of you commented to me this week as how much you have come across them. Not necessarily as an automatic invitation to prayer, but how they served as a brief reminder of God in the midst of your everyday hustle… particularly this time of year when everyone is so busy… and many of us are both trying to avoid the news and are compelled to listen to it. This reminds us that it is in the midst of bad news in the world that God’s proclamation of Good News comes. If those coins or keytags or whatever else we do remind us, even if only for a moment, that the future is in God’s hands… then we can begin to understand the comfort we hear proclaimed in Isaiah.
Maybe that’s our challenge this Advent. Remember that when we flip the coin over, the picture of the Christ child is a symbol of that future hope… to seek comfort when all we hear is doom and gloom… and to remember that for Isaiah, that comfort came not from looking to the past… but looking to the future with hope, even in the midst of a dark present. God calls us to do the same.
Amen.
posted by John Crowdis at 12:36 p.m.
1 Comments:
Thank you for these words of assurance and comfort. It is always good to be reminded of these truths.
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