ISAIAH FORETELLS

Isaiah 40: 1-11

The mother called down the hall to her son who was apparently still sleeping in his room. “Son!” (No answer) “Time to get up and get ready for church!” (No answer) “I’ve made breakfast for you!” (Still no answer.) She went down the hall and opened his door. “I don’t want to go to church” he said to her, his head facing away from her, his body under mounds of covers. “But son, you have to go to church” she said. (Silence) I’ll give you two good reasons why you have to go: First, it’s Sunday and it’s the right thing to do to go to church. And you know the second reason: “You’re the Pastor!” Can you imagine a pastor who needed the comfort of his dark room instead of the confrontation of his congregation? I was there in 1987, and that dreadful time from which I was finally delivered gave me the topic for my planned doctoral thesis. When I became the Moderator of our Presbytery in 2002, I told others about the time of my need for comfort, the dreadful dark night, and the burnout that had hit me those years earlier. Three other ministers came up to me that day to say that they too were about to break. Those ministers needed comforting words from God, or from someone. Even Pastor Rob Bell, the author of several books being studied here on Wednesday nights and the creator of the NOOMA DVD series, told about his experience at the huge church that he had founded: One Sunday morning, before the 11:00 service, he recalled “I could feel my car keys in my pocket, and all I could think about was how far I could be by 11 a.m. How much gas was in my tank? How fast could I drive? Sitting in a chair in a storage room behind the sound booth, I could hear the room filling with people, and all I wanted to do was leave. What do you do when you’re a pastor of a church, it’s Sunday morning, the parking lot is filling with cars, people are finding their seats, the service is about to start, and you are scheduled in a few moments to give the message and you realize you have nothing to say? How did it come to this?” [VELVET ELVIS, Zondervan, 2005, p. 096] Rob Bell also needed comforting words from God, or from someone. He would not be the first or last preacher to need comfort. You might remember the story of Elijah who was a prophet. In 1 Kings he battled and won against the prophets of Baal. Afterwards King Ahab, and especially his wife, Jezebel turned all their subjects against Elijah; he felt alone; he wanted to die; he could fight no longer. He climbed into a cave. It’s recorded in 1 Kings 19. Elijah needed comforting words from God too, or from someone. And in the Gospel of Mark, we read that Jesus, in his first grueling preparation for ministry, was driven into a wilderness for forty days of hunger, thirst, and temptation by Satan. At the end of the time he was fragile and weak. And Mark 1: 13 says “And the angels ministered to him.” Jesus needed comfort from someone, and angels did the comforting.

Before we jump into the words recorded in Isaiah chapter 40, we need to decide how to say it, how to do it, and to whom to offer it. “How to do what?” you may ask; how and when to COMFORT. The first 39 chapters of Isaiah describe the catastrophic fall of the Southern Kingdom of Judah and its capital, Jerusalem, to the Babylonians. Like the smoke and ash in New York City after 9/11; or the tremendous destruction caused by hurricane Katrina in Louisiana, or the destruction caused by an American bomber over Hiroshima Japan to help end World War II, the results were sheer devastation. That’s what Jerusalem would have been like. In addition, the Temple-the house of God-was not only destroyed, it was desecrated with foreign idols and sacrifices. Was God still with his people? Was God dead? Did God care?

It was years later, after a generation or so of Jews had moved away from the rubble of Jerusalem to livable Babylonian cities that life had changed forever for them. They not only had to mingle with unclean Babylonians, some even married them. They had to get Babylonian jobs and play by Babylonian rules. It was years after the first devastating changes set in that Isaiah’s words reached new ears. The people had lost all sense of self, and purpose, and of connection to their God: perhaps its the way some people you know have done after a disaster or a war; or after a child or spouse dies; perhaps its the way some you know have reacted when a fire destroyed everything they owned; or it may have been the way someone acted when a disease took a special life. Think about something, anything, that desperately crumbled you; or that brought you to your knees in prayer. How long was your agony? A month; a year; a lifetime? Are you still stuck in that darkness? Or do you know someone who is? Like the years that went by for Judah, God’s word can come to you today, and to those you know, as it came to God’s people over 500 years before the birth of Christ. At long last, Isaiah did not just bring God’s warning. This time, Isaiah was bringing God’s c-o-m-f-o-r-t. Say it slowly; say it gently, like you’re offering it to shaking puppy or a bunny; or a terrified child; or a man with a nervous breakdown. Comfort. Let it envelope you, or the broken person you know, like a blanket; like a comforter. Isaiah said to Judah that her warfare was ended; what has been the source of your own personal warfare or anguish? What must it have been like for prisoners of war to finally, finally get word that their war was over? That’s what Isaiah declared: The war is over! Now the nerves of the people, for the first time in years, could start to come down from the ledge. People could start to eat more normal meals; they could hug their family. Still, some things might haunt them forever.

At Advent, we cannot truly receive God’s word of comfort, with all it’s meaning, unless we re-imagine the time we were so terribly uncomfortable. Dare to remember those times today; remember them if you can, whatever it was for you; and then imagine God sending angels to comfort you. What was your pain; or what is your pain today? What is the shadow side of you that keeps you from looking forward to anything at Christmas? See what you can name of anything that has frightened or unnerved you. Go back to the time when you felt alone, or vulnerable. If you can go there in your mind, you can also step somewhat into the shoes of the Jews of long ago; their homes were pillaged, their women were molested, and their sacred spaces were profaned. Finally the Persians defeated the Babylonians, and King Cyrus of Persia permitted people to rebuild their faith and their city. Shell shocked, they began to do so. And you can too; perhaps you already have rebuilt your life from what devastated it. But if you haven’t yet, you can. Others here can walk with you. And as with Jesus, who once was parched, starving, and tempted, you too can experience God’s angels ministering to you. Open your eyes to watch for them; then close your eyes in regular prayer to God. And finally, know that in this month and throughout the year, you can be, and are, surrounded by angels sent to comfort you, and by a loving God, who will not let you go.

Jeffrey A. Sumner December 4, 2011