Holy Desperation: Nov. 28, 2020

 Year B, Advent 1                                                                Isaiah 64:1-9                                                                           

            Typically when we come to the first Sunday of Advent, I find the readings rather jarring and incongruous with the holiday season. First Advent usually comes right after Thanksgiving when people are doing their Christmas shopping and decorating their homes. People come to church expecting some of that same light and joy.  Then they hear readings like the ones we heard today, which are depressing and a little scary. 

If this was any other year, I would start by apologizing for the readings as they just don’t seem to fit where we are right now.  But this year I read them and thought: “Sure, that sounds about right.” The Gospel reading is about the end times, the 2^nd coming of Christ. The sun is darkening and stars are falling from heaven.  There has been more than a few times this year when I have thought, “Yup, this is it. The end is coming.”

            However, the reading that really appealed to me this year was Isaiah.  “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down, so that the mountains would quake at your presence…”  When this was written, the people of Israel were desperate for God to make himself known, to be an unavoidable reality in their lives.  Things were so bad, they wanted God to tear apart the heavens, because he clearly wasn’t on earth with them.           

They knew their history---they knew that there were many times when God had intervened.  Isaiah wrote, “When you did awesome deeds that we did not expect, you came down, the mountains quaked at your presence.”  God had done it before for the people of Israel when he sent the plagues and delivered the people from the Egyptian army.  God toppled the walls of Jericho with just the shout of the army.  God delivered the 10 commandment and fed the people for 40 years with manna from heaven.  God had done marvelous and astounding things. They wanted to know, “Where is that all powerful God now?” 

            When I think of the themes of Advent, I think of preparation, expectation, repentance, waiting and hoping.  These are the tame themes, the ones that work well with the 5 candles of our Advent wreath.  So I was surprised when one of the commentaries I read mentioned that this reading from Isaiah contains two of the major Advent themes and neither were themes I usually consider.  The first theme Isaiah highlights is a deep sense of desperation about a situation that is out of control. I thought, wow, that sums up 2020 pretty well. I mean--- it doesn’t really work with any of our candles, but it fits our current situation to a tee.

Photo by Brian Kairuz on Unsplash

The people of Israel understood desperation. The book of Isaiah tells of a country that was defeated in battled. The land was devastated.  The Holy City (Jerusalem) was demolished. Most of the people were carted off to a foreign land where they were enslaved for generations.  In our reading for today, the long exile was over. They had returned to find a home that looked nothing like the one they remembered, nothing like the stories they had been told. They had to rebuild.  They were weary and they wanted a divine intervention.  They wanted God to burst through the heavens because no matter how scary that might sound, it was nothing compared to their current predicament. 

The first 4 verses demand and insist that God come down and make things right.  But then starting in verse 5 they acknowledged their own sin and seemed to give reasons why God should not come down.  It’s like they had this burst of self-awareness and realized that maybe there was something they should have been doing instead of simply demanding that God fix things.  There is another shift in verse 8. “Yet, O Lord, you are our Father, we are the clay, and you are our potter, we are all the work of your hand….Now consider, we are all your people.”

            In just 9 verses, we can observe massive shifts in the way people perceive themselves and God. It begins with a desperate demand that God display his great power and shake the very foundations of the earth. Then the people acknowledge their own guilt. Then they shift to their relationship with God, the relationship of the creator and the creation, the parent and the child.  That is an intimate relationship, one of trust and love.  And that is the 2^nd theme of Advent that Isaiah highlights--- a bold and confident trust.[1]

            I resonate with this reading from Isaiah, probably more than I ever have before. I understand what it is to go from desperate fear--- to guilt-- to trust and hope—sometimes in less than an hour.  Everything is so unpredictable and chaotic right now. Desperation can do funny things. If we look inwardly at our desperation, that can lead to hopelessness and grief.  If we look to God in those desperate times, that can lead to a renewed appreciation of what God has done for us and continues to do for us.

            There is a part of me that yearns to skip over Advent this year and go straight to Christmas. We have had enough of waiting and preparation.  No doubt, the people of Israel felt the same way.  The themes of desperation and trust might not be what we want right now---but they might be what we need. When this pandemic is over, things will not be like it was before.  The people of Israel returned to a land that had been demolished. It was nothing like they remembered.  They had to rebuild despite their weariness. We will have to do the same.  I know that I will yearn for a quick fix, because really, haven’t we been through enough?  Yet that will not be an option for most of us. 

Maybe this Advent we need to focus less on preparation and expectation and more on surrender…surrendering to our own powerlessness and brokenness.  Allow yourself that feeling of desperation. But in the midst of that desperation, let us remember that no matter how hard rebuilding might seem, we have the creator as our guide.  Our God knows how to create and recreate. It is ok to be desperate (perhaps even necessary), but let us never lose our faith, even when we are in the midst of that desperation.  Let it be a holy desperation—one that leads not to despair but repair.  If we are the clay and God is the potter, then we are never broken beyond repair.  Our world is never broken beyond repair.  Our broken places are places where God’s light can shine that much more brightly.  That light, that is the light that will give us the power to rebuild.

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[1] Texts for Preaching, Year B Commentary p. 2

Don't make me come down there: Dec. 3

Year B, Advent 1                                                                    
Isaiah 64:1-9                                                                          

            Have any of you seen the billboards on the side of the highway with messages from God?  They have a black background and white letters.  They say things like:

 “That ‘love thy neighbor thing’---I meant it.” 

   Or “My way is the highway.”
  Or, one of my favorites: “I don’t question your existence.”

         While these are fairly light hearted, there are some that seem a little threatening. “You think it’s hot here?”  or “Don’t make me come down there.”  That 2^nd one is a little perplexing to me.  It alludes to the threat of an angry parent warning rowdy children that if they have to come down there, things will get ugly.  That seems like a strange way to envision God’s 2^nd coming.   Should we be afraid of God coming?  I always thought that we should look forward to the coming of God.  Isn’t that what we do during Advent…we anticipate the arrival of Jesus.

            If we look around us in our culture at this time of year we see bright lights, decorated trees and houses.  We smell homemade cookies and cinnamon.  We feel the warmth of a fire or a comfy blanket.  Our world is telling us that this time before Christmas is a time of joy and comfort.  It is a time to celebrate and enjoy the sweeter things in life. It’s a time to indulge. The Bible readings are telling us that this is a time to get serious because judgment is coming.  It’s quite a juxtaposition.

            Our Gospel reading is talking about the darkening sun and stars falling from the sky.  It’s essentially talking about the end of the world.  It ends with a slightly foreboding warning: “Keep awake.” The Old Testament reading (Isaiah) is a lament of desperate people begging God to tear the heavens apart.  It’s not exactly the kind of stuff that puts you in the holiday spirit.  Instead of talking about Mark’s vision of the end of the world, I thought I would focus on Isaiah’s depiction of present suffering.  Isaiah was one of the great prophets.  He is the prophet most quoted in the New Testament. The Book of Isaiah is also one of the longest books in the Bible.

Because it is such a long book and covers several decades, scholars typically break it into three sections.  The first third tells of Isaiah warning the people of imminent destruction if they do not change their ways.  The 2^nd third talks about the Hebrew people living in exile because they were attacked and forced to leave their home (because they did not listen to Isaiah).  The final third is supposed to be the happy ending.  It’s the time when the Hebrew people return to the land that they have been singing, praying, and dreaming about.  They are finally home.  But now it is in ruins and they have to rebuild.  This was not the happy ending they were expecting. 

I bet many of us have had that experience.  We have been in a difficult period in our life. Then we think, we just need to get through this period and all will be well. Then our prayers are answered and we make it through the hard time, but our problems are still there at the other side of the darkness.  Things are better, but there is still work to be done and by now, we are tired.  So it was with the Israelites. They were weary.  They had been through so much.  They did not have the energy or the will to start over. 

            In our reading for today, the first line is: “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down, so that the mountains will quake at your presence---as when a fire kindles brushwood and the fire causes water to boil.” The Hebrew people were facing the ruins of their former life and the land that they loved.  In desperation, they were asking for God to make his presence known.  Typically, when we think of God’s presence, we think of something warm of comforting.  Yet the Hebrew people were under no such illusion.  They knew what it was to be in the presence of God and it was not comforting.  It was quite the opposite.

This picture of the heavens being torn open and quaking mountains is most likely an allusion to the story of Moses and the 10 commandments.  In that story, Moses had led the people out of slavery and after about 3 months of wandering and complaining, Moses brought the people to the edge of a mountain to meet God.  A great cloud shrouded the mountain. There was thunder and lightning.  The people trembled.  They were terrified.  They asked Moses to climb the mountain so that they would not have to. They did not want to be any closer to God than they already were.  Thus, in our reading for today, when they asked God to tear open the heavens, they knew what they were asking. They knew that God’s presence would be holy and sacred, but it would be a challenge as well. But they also knew what it was to be without God.  They had experienced that.  They chose a holy fear, rather than an apathetic and numb existence. 

            In our reading for today, after begging God to come down, the people repented.  They admitted that they had been worthless.  They had sinned. Not only did they confess their sins, but they acknowledged that they were powerless to improve their situation. They said, “There is no one who calls on your name, or attempts to take hold of you; for you have hidden your face from us, and have delivered us into the hand of our inequity.”   That admittance of powerlessness was probably one of the hardest things for them to say.  It’s something that most of us struggle with, our inability to control things, even though we try so hard. 

            Yet…yet.  That is the where the tone changes.  The narrative moves from the past to the present.  The Hebrew people were no longer talking about what was in the past.  With this simple word: “yet” they moved to something entirely different.  “Yet, O LORD, you are our Father; we are the clay, and you are our potter; we are all the work of your hand.”  Yet.  They were saying: Whatever has happened in the past,  whatever way we sinned, You are our father…now.  You created us.  Even in our flawed and incomplete state, we are still yours. So you can’t be angry forever because we are all your people. 

            In the church, we often contrast the season of Advent with what is going on in the world around us.  Advent tells us to slow down.  The world tells us to overcompensate. Yet that slowing down isn’t a spiritual vacation, it’s a time to examine our lives, where we have succeeded, but also where we have fallen short---especially in regards to our faith journey.  It is a time of preparation not just for the sweet baby Jesus, but for a God who can tear the heavens apart and light up the sky…for a God who expects greatness from us because we are created in his image. 

While I would never want people to be afraid of God, I do think that we need to spend more time in awe of God…perhaps even tremble before his majesty.  It is one thing to confess our sins to God---it is an entirely different thing to throw ourselves at the mercy of our creator. In doing so, we are not only admitting our past sins, we are admitting that we will sin again.  We cannot save ourselves.  While God can be quite intimidating at times…in the end, he made us.  We are his children.  God will never forget that.  The question is, are we willing to live into that kind of vulnerability and trust---to be the children of God. Not only to be the children of God, but children who are willing to be molded and changed by God’s loving hands.  It is not enough to be created by God. We also need to be changed by God.

November 30, 2014: Isaiah 64:1-9

And now...

Year B, Advent 1                                                                 

            Happy New Year!! I know it’s not January yet, but it is the first Sunday of Advent and that means it is the first Sunday of the liturgical year.  If it was January, we would all be working on our New Year’s resolutions, perhaps dusting off some old ones or coming up with something new.  We might be committing to a new exercise routine, joining a gym, buying more vegetables, or if you are anything like me, getting really annoyed that the gym is suddenly crowded and your favorite cardio machine is no longer available.  The point it, you would be preparing for change, perhaps an improvement. 

A New Year’s resolution is usually a proactive response to a new opportunity.  However, when we talk about the new church year and Advent in particular, we talk about waiting, preparation and anticipation.  To be an active participant in Advent we tell you to sing mellower songs, not decorate the church, and light one candle a week…one candle.  On New Year’s Eve in New York City they have a famous ball drop at midnight.  The ball they are currently using is lit by 32,000 LED lamps. It is 12 feet in diameter and contains almost 3,000 Waterford Crystal panels.  Clearly, if it was a contest about light and drama, we would be losing this New Year’s contest. 

            Thankfully, it is not a contest.  In fact one of the things that we try to do in Advent is prove that the church is countercultural.  Yet I worry that in our push towards mellowing out and waiting, what we are really doing is telling people to “Get bored.”  And that is not what this is supposed to be and the readings for the day remind us that there is nothing dull about Advent and there should be nothing boring about our faith.  The first line from Isaiah is, “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down, so that the mountains would quake at your presence….” Having the sky ripped open would be a whole lot more impressive than a 12 foot crystal ball dropping a couple hundred feet. 

            Isaiah is a book full of dramatic twists and turns.  The author spent the first part of the 66 chapter book trying to convince the people of Jerusalem to change their ways and follow the one true God or they would be conquered by a foreign land…which is indeed what happened.  Jerusalem was conquered and their beloved temple was destroyed.  The majority of the people were deported to Babylon where they lived under foreign control and were forced to worship other gods. 

The whole time they were in Babylon, they lamented over the exile and looked forward to returning to their home and their temple.  In the last section of Isaiah (which is one of the longest books of the Bible) the people return to their home to find it ruined.  While they try to rebuild, it takes much longer than they expected.  They have long periods of despondency where they question whether they can even build a temple again.   They wonder whether God has abandoned them.  In many ways, they were moving through an interminable Advent…all of this waiting and Christmas never came.  

            The reading we have for today comes from the very end of the Book of Isaiah.  The people have been back for some time and that initial excitement of returning to their home has passed.  Things have not happened as fast as they hoped.  They are wondering if it had been worth returning.  They learned a hard lesson when they were forced to leave their homes and leave just a few people in Jerusalem.  Part of that lesson was how important it is to remain loyal to God and not to take God for granted.  Yet they forgot that lesson very quickly.  They forgot it so completely, it would seem that they no longer knew how to recognize the presence of God.  Otherwise, they would not asked him to tear open the heavens and come down.  That would be a pretty dramatic entrance for someone who is already there. 

In this one short passage of Isaiah, the people ask God to make his presence known so dramatically that people would have to take notice, have to believe.  After making that request, the people remind themselves and God of the relationship they once had and the power that God once displayed.  But the mood shifts again when they admit that despite the power of God and his care for his people, they had sinned and turned against God since their return to their home.  All of this waiting had not given them time to slow down and rediscover their relationship with God.  It had just given them enough time to get distracted and whiny.  They had gotten so lazy that they would not even call on his name. 

            Yet…that is the English word that comes to us in verse 8.  It seems like a small unimportant word, but it was pivotal in this text because it marked another shift…but not just any shift, a shift to the present.  A better translation would be, “And now.”  And now, “O Lord, you are our Father; we are the clay, and you are our potter; we are all the work of you hand.”  While they were in Babylon, they spent all of their time longing for that time when they would return to their homeland.  They were full of hope and longing, but it was all for this future event.  When they returned they discovered that this home of theirs did not look like what they remembered or what they hoped for.  So then they started reminiscing about the past, of what was or what could have been. 

But with that one small phrase, “and now,” they were back in the present.  They were ready to live instead of just remember.  They came up with a pretty interesting way to do that.  It was something they had not yet tried.  They allowed themselves not only a new beginning, but a new beginning with God as their maker.  God would not just be their creator, but their re-creator. 

            Yes, Advent should be a slightly more quiet and contemplative time.  But that time should end with something more than just an unused gym membership.  It should be a time of re-creation when we put ourselves in the hands of God and let him mold us.  The Gospel text tells us that we should keep awake.  That is what Advent is really about.  It is a time for quiet, but it is also a time to wake up and to live life in the present.  We are not waiting for Christmas.  We are preparing ourselves and our world for a God that is so magnificent and so luminous that the mere sight of him would crush a 12 foot Waterford crystal ball.  That light from that ball in New York City would look like an old flashlight with a dying battery when compared to the light that we as Christians are preparing for: The light of Christ.  So stop waiting around.  It’s time to wake up and prepare to be re-created by the light of the world.