A Study of Isaiah: A Baby Changes Everything

Isaiah 7:10-16

When a baby enters your life, everything changes. All bets are off. A new day has dawned. It all really starts before the baby enters the world. Before the birth of a baby, especially the first child, your calendar fills up quickly with regular doctor visits, setting up the child’s room with the right furniture, colors and theme, the showering of gifts from loved ones and friends, and my personal favorite the childbirth preparation classes. We learned breathing and relaxation techniques, the stages of labor, and so much more. It was truly an experience.

A baby also changes how you travel. Can’t just jump in the car and go anymore. You must place the baby in a 5 point harness car carrier or else you don’t get to leave the hospital. The stereo system you love and enjoy gets moved and replaced by a pack-n-play. Your favorite chair is replaced by a mechanical swing. The crib, changing table, a dresser, child proofing everything, having storage for toys and books, and an eventual high chair in the kitchen: your home is transformed into a “baby cave”; your own Babies-R-Us store. I am amazed at how much additional gear is needed to travel with one little person.

There’s the lack of regular, sound, deep sleep. There’s the constant attention needed to attend to a baby’s needs: changing diapers, getting them dressed, doing laundry, feeding the baby, getting the baby dressed again, getting yourself dressed again, doing more laundry. You get the idea.

And in the end, we do what we have to do when a baby enters our lives. Why? Because we love them more than we imagined we could love anyone. A baby is a sign of God’s creative love and irresistible grace. A baby serves as a sign of God’s love for the world and all creation and at the same time we, the parents, experience the love of God in a whole new way and our lives are changed forever. A baby is a sign of hope in a world of despair; a sign of peace in a world of violence; a sign of joy in a world of unhappiness; a sign of love in a world of hate.

We find ourselves this morning with King Ahaz, the king of Judah, in the middle of a foreign policy crisis, fearful of his two close neighbors to the north, Syria and Israel (vs. 4–6). The prophet has just warned King Ahaz that only faith will rescue the king from this apparent threat (vs. 7–9).

God invites King Ahaz, the king of Judah, to ask for a sign, but he refuses. God wanted him to ask for any kind of a sign because God wanted to prove to Ahaz that He would protect him from the kings of Syria and Ephraim. But Ahaz refused to ask for a sign because he really wanted to ask help from Assyria and continue practicing idolatry. The point of the sign is to underscore God’s intention to do as he promised.

We're always looking for signs, but we don’t always see them or we refuse to see them. We look for them in the mall, when driving in unfamiliar neighborhoods, when looking for a bathroom in a restaurant or when checking into a hotel (where's the fitness room, the swimming pool, the business center?). We look for signs when deplaning and wandering through the airport terminal ("Where do I catch my connecting flight? Where's baggage claim? What carousel number?"), but in the hustle and bustle of a busy airport it’s easy to miss a sign and go in the wrong direction. Or when hiking on a trail in the mountains, following the trail signs when you notice they are worn out, simply missing and difficult to discern. When life isn’t going our way, we look for signs of improvement and growth from God. Noah looked for a sign and God gave him a rainbow in the sky. The Hebrews looked for signs and received manna from heaven in the morning, quails in their camps in the evening, and water from the rock. The shepherds living in the fields keeping watch over their flocks by night received a sign that in the city of David they would find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger who is the savior of the world.

The king’s refusal is wrapped up in some form of personal piety. The clever but stubborn refusal of the king evokes from the prophet a hard, devastating oracle (vs. 13–17). The prophet Isaiah puts the royal Ahaz administration on notice. The prophet now refers to Yahweh as “my God.” By implication, this odd pronoun suggests that Yahweh is no longer “your God.” Yahweh has withdrawn from the dynasty. The dynasty wanted autonomy, and now it has it, for the Davidic house no longer is claimed by God. “Therefore” (v. 14), because of the king’s resistance, the prophet announces a “sign”, even though the king has not asked for one. The sign is that a young woman will have a child (v. 14). All the focus in the oracle is on the anticipated baby whose name is Immanuel, “God is with us” (v. 14). The birth and growth of the baby present a time line to the nations: “Before the child knows how to refuse the evil and choose the good” is commonly calculated in terms of childhood development as two years. Before two years, the threat of Syria and Israel will dissolve (v. 16). That’s the good news. The bad news is that with the disappearance of these small kings whom Ahaz so much fears, Yahweh will “bring on you” bad, bad days.

Is it any wonder that we should be looking for signs to guide us on our spiritual journey? That's the way we're wired. And especially at Advent!

What signs are you looking for? Is it a sign to confirm a sense of new calling in your life? Perhaps it’s a sign that comes from a doctor visit or a trusted loved one saying it’s time to change your unhealthy habits or you will die. Or is it simply a word of hope? A feeling of peace? An experience of joy? The power of love? A bright star shining in the east? The Christ child lying in an animal feeding trough?

The sign of the Christ child, the sign of Emmanuel, changes everything. Everything changes when “God is with us”.

The power of the Immanuel sign calls us to live faithfully in God’s promise to always be with us. The Emmanuel sign calls us to have the courage of faith to test that promise when we are challenged by the enemy.

The challenge of the Immanuel sign is stated by the prophet to King Ahaz in v. 9: “If you do not stand firm in faith, you shall not stand at all”. Stand firm in your faith as we cry out to God, “O Come, O Come Emmanuel and ransom captive Israel, that mourns in lonely exile here, until the son of God appear…come and cheer our spirits by Thine advent here; disperse the gloomy clouds of night, and death’s dark shadows put to flight…bind all peoples in one heart and mind; bid envy, strife and discord cease; fill the whole world with heaven’s peace. Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel, God is with us, shall come to thee.”[1]

Get ready! Everything changes when “God is with us”! Amen.

---

[1] O Come, O Come, Emmanuel, The Presbyterian Hymnal #9. Latin c. 12^th century, adaptation by Thomas Helmore, 1854.

A Study of Isaiah: A Total Reclamation

Isaiah 35:1-10

Last week’s scripture reading from Isaiah 11 left us with a vision of the natural order transformed; a vision in which natural enemies of the animal kingdom and human beings live together in peace and harmony. Today’s lesson complements that one, but now it is about humanity and the land, especially the wilderness, the Judean desert. God promises to reclaim and transform all of creation and make all things new by the coming of God into our lives.

When the new immigrants to the modern state of Israel began showing up in droves in the late 1940s, they didn't find a promised land flowing with milk and honey, as their ancient Israelite ancestors had discovered in the former land of Canaan some 3,000 years before.

What they found instead was a land full of encroaching sand dunes along a once-fertile coast, malarial swamps and limestone hills bare of rich topsoil that had been swept into the Mediterranean Sea by erosion, turning the regularly blue sea brown as far as the eye could see.

The settlers immediately set out to begin reclaiming the land. During the tenth anniversary of the founding of the state of Israel, an international convention brought 485 farmers from 37 countries to see what had been accomplished. Here's how Scientific American described what they saw in 1960:

"They found a nation of two million people, whose numbers had doubled in the decade, principally by immigration. Yet Israel was already an exporter of agricultural produce and had nearly achieved the goal of agricultural self-sufficiency, with an export/import balance in foodstuffs. It had more than doubled its cultivated land, to a million acres. It had drained 44,000 acres of marshland and extended irrigation to 325,000 acres; it had increased many-fold the supply of underground water from wells and was far along on the work of diverting and utilizing the scant surface waters. On vast stretches of uncultivable land it had established new range-cover to support a growing livestock industry and planted 37 million trees in new forests and shelter belts. All this had been accomplished under a national plan that enlisted the devotion of the citizens and the best understanding and technique provided by modern agricultural science."[1]

In the years since, Israel has become the world's expert in making the desert bloom. In the Negev Desert in southern Israel, for example, agricultural specialists have learned how to use brackish underground water to irrigate crops that are genetically altered to grow in a saltwater environment. Israel has exported its technology and expertise to places like sub-Saharan Africa, where famine is being pushed back in some areas because desert sand is being turned into farmland.

The coming of the Messiah will profoundly transform a troubled creation; one that is in pitiful condition, desperately yearning for rescue and incapable of saving itself from itself. If you have ever traveled to Israel, then you know how dry and arid the climate is, especially the further inland you go. The wilderness, that is the desert, is a wound of creation where all life suffers. But rain is promised, for God is coming, and the whole of the discouraged wilderness will blossom and flourish, restored to full function (v.2). God’s power and passion work together to make utter newness possible; it is the transformation and renewal of creation wrought by the coming of God into the world. “He will come with vengeance, with terrible recompense. He will come and save you.” (35:4). There will be rushing streams traveling along cracked, dry land; springs well up in the midst of wilderness desolation. God’s intention and purpose is to save and restore. God will make reparations and give good gifts as well as defeat the powers of death. God comes to do good work and eliminate any threats.

God has come in the person of Jesus Christ to reclaim us as his own; for we like sheep have gone astray, we have all turned to our own way, and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all (Isa. 53:6). It’s an extreme makeover for our lives guaranteed to transform and reclaim us. He addresses those with “weak hands” and “feeble knees” (v. 3) as well as those with “fearful hearts” (v.4). It includes all those whose lives are overwhelmed by fear, timidity, vulnerability, lack of courage, lack of capacity to live a full life: essentially anything that prevents you from living effectively and joyously. Nothing that is skewed and distorted will remain as is: the blind see, the deaf hear, the lame walk, the dumb sing (vs. 5-6a; cf. Luke 7:22)! People are given back their lives. Humanity returns to its original state.

God is in the middle of this tremendous reclamation project through the work and person of Jesus Christ; a project designed for the reclamation of the whole world; a reclamation project that was initiated in Israel but would soon be shared everywhere; a reclamation project that not just restores the land, but the people, too. God will provide a road in the desert, a way home for all those who have been far away and separated from God.

In his life, death and resurrection, Jesus lived out God's project and taught his disciples to do the same. He called the project the kingdom of God and proclaimed it as the already-and-not-yet completion of the restoration of God's people and God's good creation. And, he promised to return and complete that work, ushering in a new creation where all of God's people will be at home.

Advent reminds us again and again of the promises that only Jesus can fulfill. The season also invites us to think about how we can participate in God's total reclamation project for his creation. Jesus gathered the disciples around himself and taught them to do the very same things that he had done, training them to be workers for God's kingdom. We know that the kingdom isn't all the way here yet and won't be until Jesus returns, but in the meantime we are called to make the world around us look more and more like his kingdom so that when it comes it won't be such a culture shock!

If we take that mission seriously, we can begin to see some of the ways we can take on God's project every day:

- We engage in projects that care for the basic needs of people through good stewardship of the earth's resources. We can help those in desert areas find clean drinking water and discover ways to promote sustainable food production.

- We look for ways to be involved in the lives of those who are physically limited and often pushed to the margins of society. Jesus spent time with those people and validated them, and so should we.

- We create a "Holy Way" for people to come to know Christ and his kingdom through ministries of evangelism and hospitality (Isaiah 35:8).

- We determine every day to help people attain "joy and gladness" and make "sorrow and sighing" flee away (v. 10). [2]

If you've ever been to Israel you know that some of that desert-grown produce is some of the tastiest in the world. It takes skill and persistence in order to grow great fruit in places where it shouldn't be possible to do it.

It takes skill and persistence to grow God's kingdom in the world as well. The text is a healing alternative to the church’s despair and our modern sense that no real newness is possible. Isaiah invites us out of our comfort zones to affirm that God does what the world thinks is not possible. Advent is getting ready for that impossibility which will permit us to dance and sing and march and thank and drink and eat --- and live! May we join him in making this promise a reality!

---

[1] "50 years ago: The reclamation of a man-made desert." Scientific American Website, February 23, 2010. scientificamerican.com/article.cfm?id=reclamation-of-man-made-desert. Retrieved December 10, 2013.

[2] Bob Kaylor, Senior Writer and Senior Minister of the Park City United Methodist Church in Park City, Utah.

A Study of Isaiah: Keep Your Fork!

Isaiah 11:1-10

There is a sensation on You Tube called Kid President. Kid President is a young, African-American boy who makes videos about what a Kid President would be and do. In one particular video, Kid President asks, “What if YOU were Kid President for a day?” inviting viewers to tell what they’d change about the world. Their responses are priceless. They include:

· “Make college more affordable and create more scholarships.”

· “Reduce, reuse and recycle.”

· “Update the public on the first day of every month to show them how I've been improving this country.”

· “Stop bullying because it's bad and its being mean to people.”

· “We would treat everyone with respect.”

· “Make peace between countries.”

· “There would be a law that says you'd have to dance instead of walk.”

· “We'd make the world more awesome.”

What would YOU do if you were Kid President for a day? What would you say? All these responses were optimistic, forward-thinking, looking toward building a brighter future. The responses were filled with hope of a better day to come; believing that the best was yet to come.

Today's Scripture lesson is a prophecy of Isaiah, composed at a time in which the dynasty of King David, the son of Jesse, has been reduced in a matter of speaking to a mere stump; they were a shadow of their former selves. The people of Israel are cowering in fear of their Assyrian neighbors, who are as cruel to God's people as the Egyptians had been many generations earlier. In the middle of this frightening and violent time, God promises to launch a new political initiative, a peace so pervasive and widespread, it bypasses the genetic hard-wiring of nature itself, allowing the wolf and lamb to share their personal space without either temptation or intimidation.

But how will it appear?

This new regime comes from a simple shoot - from a bud, a sprout, a young leaf. Not from a warrior king or a conquering army, but from a fragile sprout. We know this shoot to be Jesus the Christ, the one born as a vulnerable baby in a manger in Bethlehem, the city of David. He doesn't come to us at Bethlehem as a Messiah with unlimited military might, even though legions of angels are at his disposal. Rather than scorching the earth with firepower, these angels are instead singing on Christmas night, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth, peace, good will toward all." The initial creation of the kingdom of God introduces the Prince of Peace, one who has "the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord" (Isaiah 11:2). He comes as a righteous king who is willing to protect the poor and the marginalized, especially widows and orphans. It was believed throughout the Ancient Near East that once the ideal king inaugurates a righteous society, peace and harmony will spread throughout creation. It’s the Peaceable Kingdom that comes and takes hold. This is what the prophet is foretelling.

In fact there is a famous painting entitled, “The Peaceable Kingdom” painted by an American painter Edward Hicks. Hicks painted over a hundred versions of his now-famous Peaceable Kingdom between 1820 and his death. The theme of this painting was undoubtedly attractive to Hicks and fellow Quakers not only for its appealing imagery but also for its message of peace: "The wolf also shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid, and the calf and the young lion and fatling together; and a little child shall lead them." The Rev. Dr. David G. Buttrick makes this astute observation about Edward Hicks' primitive painting. He asks whether anyone has noticed that there's something left out. In the Holy City, there will be no more churches -- no temples, no spires, no pulpits, no preachers, no squeaky chairs in the fellowship hall, no solemn Bible study circles. The dream gets better all the time, doesn't it? Think of it, the church is the only organization on earth that cheerfully announces its own demise; we know we haven't got forever. Of course, we forget the fact. We go on building thick-walled churches as if we had forever. But we don't; we are not permanent. In God's great plan we're headed for a phaseout. For who will need churches when God is near or at hand, or need preachers when everyone will know the Lord!

A new day is dawning.

This new day disrupts all that is old and destructive. To receive this new possibility requires a decision on our part that is both daring and costly. It is daring because we will not know how to act in a genuine, just community. It is costly because we benefit from and are comfortable with old, deathly patterns of life. We are invited and warned that we must make concrete decisions to reorder our life in ways appropriate to God’s new intention and vision for the world.

God’s life-giving, future-creating, world-forming, despair-ending power can create something new out of nothing. This “spirit of God” is inscrutable, irresistible, beyond human control, management, or predictability. The poem announces that the spirit has come to blow over the stump. The spirit signals new possibilities, while the stump closes out all futures. The situation is urgent. Some believe the hopeless stump can defeat the spirit of God.

The poet, however, knows otherwise! The spirit will prevail! That little “shoot” will be invaded and occupied by the spirit, and therefore massively transformed. The authorizing of the new king by God’s powerful spirit will make the king an advocate of good, fair, and equitable judgment. The spirit that will blow over the new governance is marked by wisdom and understanding, counsel and might, and knowledge and fear of God (v. 2).

The primary responsibilities of king in the ancient world are making decisions about social power and social goods. The new king, powered by the spirit, will not be open to bribes (“what his eyes see”) or convinced by propaganda (“what his ears hear”) (v. 3). He will, rather, be the kind of judge who will attend to the needs of the “meek” and the “poor,” that is, the socially powerless, not the socially powerful.

In our own time, we are learning, a little at a time, that human acts of injustice wreak havoc with the created order (climate change and environmental destruction). Conversely, acts of human justice permit creation to function in a healthy, fruitful way. The newness of human justice (vv. 4–5) leads to the newness of creation (vv 6-9); restored and reconciled, one in which the brutality is tamed and the death is overcome. The oldest of enemies—wolf-lamb, leopard-kid, calf-lion, cow-bear, lion-ox—are made friends. We thought it not possible, but the spirit makes it so. A child is mentioned three times here: “a little child” (v. 6), “the nursing child,” “the weaned child” (v. 8). The little child may be the new shoot of Jesse who will preside over new creation. More broadly, “the little child” bespeaks the birth of a new innocence in which trust, gentleness, and friendship are possible and appropriate. The world will be ordered, so that the fragile and vulnerable can have their say and live their lives, too.

Millions of people around the world and in our country are mourning the loss of Nelson Mandela. In his autobiography Long Walk to Freedom, Nelson Mandela tells of a place he came to during his 27 years in prison. He wrote, “It was during those long and lonely years that my hunger for the freedom of my own people became a hunger for the freedom of all people, white and black. I knew as well as I knew anything that the oppressor must be liberated just as surely as the oppressed. A man who takes away another man's freedom is a prisoner of hatred; he is locked behind the bars of prejudice and narrow-mindedness. I am not truly free if I am taking away someone else's freedom, just as surely as I am not free when my freedom is taken from me. The oppressed and the oppressor alike are robbed of their humanity.”[1] Upon his release from prison, Mandela did the impossible. Instead of getting even or taking revenge against his enemy, he worked toward reconciliation and peace between the blacks and whites of South Africa. He loved his enemy and showed what living a life of grace was all about. Such efforts ended the system of apartheid, of legalized separation of the races, and brought about peace, justice and reconciliation to a war-torn country. A new day had dawned.

There was a young woman who had been diagnosed with a terminal illness and had been given three months to live. So as she was getting her things in order, she contacted her Pastor and had him come to her house to discuss certain aspects of her final wishes. She told him which songs she wanted sung at the service, what scriptures she would like read, and what outfit she wanted to be buried in. Everything was in order and the Pastor was preparing to leave when the young woman suddenly remembered something very important to her.
"There's one more thing," she said excitedly.
"What's that?" came the Pastor's reply.
"This is very important," the young woman continued. "I want to be buried with a fork in my right hand."
The Pastor stood looking at the young woman, not knowing quite what to say.
"That surprises you, doesn't it?" the young woman asked.
"Well, to be honest, I'm puzzled by the request," said the Pastor.
The young woman explained. "In all my years of attending socials and dinners, I always remember that when the dishes of the main course were being cleared, someone would inevitably lean over and say, 'Keep your fork.' It was my favorite part because I knew that something better was coming...like velvety chocolate cake or deep-dish apple pie; something wonderful, and with substance!"

So, I just want people to see me there in that casket with a fork in my hand and I want them to wonder "What's with the fork?" Then I want you to tell them: "Keep your fork ..the best is yet to come."

At the funeral people were walking by the young woman's casket and they saw the cloak she was wearing and the fork placed in her right hand. Over and over, the Pastor heard the question, "What's with the fork?" And over and over he smiled.

During his message, the Pastor told the people of the conversation he had with the young woman shortly before she died. He also told them about the fork and about what it symbolized to her. He told the people how he could not stop thinking about the fork and told them that they probably would not be able to stop thinking about it either.

May we continue to keep our fork, trusting in the hope and peace of a better day; believing that the best is yet to come.






[1] Nelson Mandela, Long Walk to Freedom (New York: Little, Brown and Company, 1994), 544.

A Study of Isaiah: What The Future Holds

Isaiah 2:1-5

Welcome to Advent! After traveling these many Sundays in our ordinary time, we are suddenly interrupted by a time of great expectancy, patient waiting and diligent preparation for the celebration of the birth of Jesus and his promise he will come again. The term Advent is taken from the Latin word adventus, meaning "coming". It is the translation of the Greek word parousia, commonly used in reference to the second coming of Christ. In this season, we find ourselves on the brink of something utterly new, something long yearned for but beyond our capacity to act. We are invited to wake up; to wake up from our dulled endurance and domesticated expectations, as one commentator puts it, to consider our life fresh and new in light of the new things God is about to do. Are you ready for the ride?

So during this Advent season as we prepare for birth of the Christ child and his coming again, we will look at what will be but is not yet: the hope for justice, peace, and well-being for all people. We will examine several texts from the prophet Isaiah: our text today from Isaiah 2. Next Sunday we will move on to Isaiah 11:1-10, followed by Isaiah 35 vv. 1-10, then back to Isaiah 7 and Isaiah 9 on Christmas Eve. One of the first things you should know about Isaiah if you don’t know already is that there is more than one Isaiah. Scholars agree that the book of Isaiah as it appears in the Bible is actually a composite work; a product of different prophets who ministered at different periods in the history of Israel. The first section commonly referred to as First Isaiah, consists of chapters 1-39, written in the 8th century BC in Jerusalem before the Babylonian exile. Second Isaiah, chapters 40-55, was written in the 6th century BC during the Babylonian exile and the possibly Third Isaiah, chapters 56-66, was written around 539 BC in Judah post-Babylonian exile. Our focus for the next several weeks will be on First Isaiah.

First Isaiah was attached to the Judean royal court, and his long career of approximately 44 years spanned the kingships of Uzziah, Jotham, Ahaz and Hezekiah, all kings of the southern kingdom of Judah, of which Jerusalem was the capital city. Writing amid the threat of war and exile, Isaiah reveals God’s ultimate vision of peace and hope not only for the people of Judah and Jerusalem but for all nations. Isaiah’s vision of the new heaven and the new earth is the fullest version of this idea in the OT and will significantly influence later writings on the subject, especially in the New Testament.

Isaiah’s vision of what the end times will be sees people from all nations of the earth streaming toward Jerusalem and its center point — the mountain of God, Mount Moriah, the place where the temple stood, the Temple Mount (2:1-2). While not the highest point in the city, the temple mount represented God’s dwelling place among the people and, in Isaiah’s vision, would be the focal point of worship for all the peoples of the earth, not just the nation of Judah. God’s vision of the future thus breaks down the barriers that separate people from one another and offers an opportunity for all people to learn God’s ways and “walk in his paths” (2:3).

In a world that’s becoming increasingly polarized, Isaiah’s vision tells us that, in the end, he’s invited all people into his dwelling place. Not all may choose to come, but those who seek God’s instruction and want to be in his presence are welcome, regardless of the differences they may have had before. God will be the one who judges between the nations and “shall arbitrate for many peoples” (2:4) so that all receive and offer justice and peace. Isaiah invites us to imagine a world where boundaries have been erased and all become one in God’s presence.

The apostle Paul would later tell his readers that, in Christ, this was already beginning to happen — that in Christ the distinctions between male and female, Jew and Greek, slave and free (we might add Democrat and Republican, high church and low church, emerging and traditional) no longer matter. What matters is that in the end “every knee shall bow and every tongue confess” that Christ is Lord (Romans 14:11; Philippians 2:10). In the meantime, we should be looking to connect with others who may be different from us, recognizing that we all have a place in God’s kingdom.

Isaiah’s vision also offers what the life of people who are redeemed by God’s grace will look like. God’s judgment would be corrective, and God’s grace would be redemptive and restorative. The Babylonian exile wouldn’t destroy Judah and Jerusalem forever but would bring them to a place of understanding and repentance, enabling them to see God’s ultimate salvation — not only for themselves but for all the nations (2:2). God would forgive their sin and offer them a chance at a new life of peace and prosperity in his coming kingdom. In the same way, God reminds us that our failures aren’t final when we repent and ask his forgiveness for our waywardness. God’s grace and forgiveness are all the more redemptive because we remember where we’d be if God actually gave us what we deserved. Judgment and grace act together to keep us focused on God’s future.

Our concern today must be with that future. The words “and yet” are two of professor and political activist Elie Wiesel’s favorite words, for they are “applicable to every situation, be it happy or bleak. The sun is rising? And yet it will set. A night of anguish? And yet it, too, will pass. The important thing is to shun resignation, to refuse to wallow in sterile fatalism.” Isaiah’s vision is an act of imagination that looks beyond present dismay through the eyes of God, to see what will be that is not yet. This is the function of promise in the life of faith and therefore of Advent. In Advent faith sees what will be that is not yet. This vision comes in two parts. On the one hand, the promise is very sure, as sure as the intent of God. On the other hand, the poet does not know when. It is the nature of faithful promise to trust the one who promises and therefore not to need a timetable. The promise proceeds by making a sharp contrast between what is and what will be; Jerusalem in Isaiah’s time was not the powerful, metropolitan city it once was. Jerusalem lived, flourished and suffered at the will of the great world powers. It is against their current shabbiness that First Isaiah imagines a majestic future for the city. A future based on the return of God’s presence in the Temple, one that would draw the peoples of all nations together to accept Israel’s Torah or “teachings” as their bond for well-being.

When the nations of the world accept the Torah, God will be established as the judge for all disputes big and small. God has equal authority with the disputing parties to help settle their differences. To use war as a mode of national policy is no longer needed. Thus, we hear a description of an alternative economy and the dismantling of weapons of war. As the instruments of death are dismantled, there is the production of instruments of life. Human energies and public resources are reassigned; the economy is transformed; the earth is transformed, from a battleground to fertile garden. It is what will be but is not yet.

What God is trying to say to us is we must look beyond our present situation, to see what God intends for us; to see outside our circumstances to the purpose and good God has yet to fulfill. Like the blind man with mud covering his eyes who had to go the pool of Siloam and wash, we, too, stand in the circumstances of what will be but is not yet. The blind man continues to be blind after his encounter with Jesus. He needs to find the Pool of Siloam while he is still blind and trust in Jesus that his promises are true. It's not easy to understand about God’s promises are true of what will be but is not yet. We live in a world that can be so cold; a world that steals the souls of man. A world where cloudy skies rain down on all our dreams where we wrestle with fear and doubt; a world where wars are raging, lives are scattered, innocence is lost and hopes are shattered. A world where the old are forgotten and the children are forsaken.[1]

Sometimes it's hard, but we must believe that there's a better place. There’s a better place where our God waits. There is a better place where every tear will be wiped away. The darkness will be gone and the weak shall be strong; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more” (2:4) Hold on to your faith because there will come a day.[2]

How long will it take for that day to come? How long will sin blind our hearts? How long? Not long. Because truth crushed to earth will rise again. How long? Not long, because one day soon every knee will bow and every tongue will confess Jesus as Lord of all. How long? Not long. Because Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord; He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored; he hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword. His truth is marching on. He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat; he is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment seat. Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer Him! Be jubilant, my feet! Our God is marching on. Glory Alleluia! Glory Alleluia! Glory Alleluia! His truth is marching on.[3] He is coming! He is coming! Amen.

---

[1] “There Will Come a Day” performed by Faith Hill, written by Aimee Mayo, William Luther, Diane Eve Warren.  Copyright Silverkiss Music, Universal Music – Careers, Realsongs.  www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/faithhill/therewillcomeaday

[2] Ibid.

[3] Battle Hymn of the Republic, written by Julia Ward Howe, 1861.