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Advent 3B
December 13, 2020
Isaiah 61
INTRODUCTION
Finally, in this third week of Advent, we start to get a sense of that joy we all expect out of this time of year. Advent 1, you may remember, brought more despair than joy, and week 2 we got a bit of hope, but not a lot joy. But on this 3rd Sunday of Advent, the day often marked by a rose candle on the Advent wreath, we get some real live genuine joy. This 3rd Sunday of Advent is called “Gaudete Sunday,” or “Rejoice” Sunday, and it is meant to offer, at this halfway point, a little glimpse of the joy the Christ-child brings. So you will see that in our texts:
Paul says it straight out to the Thessalonians, a fledgling church enduring great challenges: “Rejoice in the Lord always!” he exhorts. “Pray without stopping! Give thanks all the time!” Isaiah will speak of all the good news he is called upon to bring to God’s aching people. If you know your Gospels, you may recognize this text from Isaiah as the one on which Jesus preaches his first public sermon in Luke’s Gospel, finishing his reading by saying to the silent crowd, “This scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing,” indicating that he is bringing about this good news for the world. But that’s not actually the Gospel story we will hear today. We will hear, strangely enough, the same story we heard last week, except this time we’ll hear John’s version of it: the story about John the Baptist proclaiming the one who is coming. Though John has Jesus quoting the same text from Isaiah as Mark did, there are actually quite a few differences in this account, so, see if you can find them.
As you listen to these joyful texts, notice what stirs your heart. Where do you find you need a word of joy proclaimed to your aching heart today? What feels like a salve to hear… but also, what word of joy might still be difficult to receive in a time with so much anxiety and sadness? Let’s listen.
[READ]
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
Well, we finally got what some of we’ve been looking for in the lectionary – some Advent joy! All four texts bring words of hope and joy to our aching, pandemic-heavy hearts. Boy, big relief, right?
But I gotta say, that even though it is here… I’m still not really feeling it. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I have found several moments of genuine joy this season, but it is always tempered by the horrific news of soaring case numbers, full hospitals, people I know getting sick, stories of exhausted medical workers, increased levels of depression, and the persistent ache of missing cherished people and traditions. Though I appreciate the joy we hear about today, there are many moments when such joy feels forced, and while forced joy is sometimes necessary just to keep from sinking into the pit – it’s not quite doing it for me.
But here’s the thing: being in this position puts us in good company. Because the original audiences for our readings this morning were also not in a very holly jolly place. The crowd around John the Baptist lived in a time of Roman oppression, and had barely heard “boo” from God in some 400 years. The Thessalonian Church was a struggling one, living as they did as persecuted minorities in a heavily Roman and Greek territory. These are deeply hurting communities who are hearing these hopeful, joy-filled words – a scenario we know something about!
But I am especially moved this week by Isaiah. We’ve been studying Isaiah in our Advent Bible study this month, and finding so many contemporary applications, and today is no exception. First, a little background. The book we call Isaiah is actually three books, written by three different people in three different time periods. The first book is written pre-exile, and it is full of doom and gloom. “You have strayed from God, and you will pay!” sort of stuff. Second Isaiah speaks to the time after the prophecy of first Isaiah has come to pass, when the Israelites are in exile. After generations of apostacy and idolatry and abusive power, God has let them, as a last resort, suffer from the consequences of their actions, and their enemies overtake them, and they are sent to far-away Babylon. Being sent away from the Promised Land means they have lost everything that is meaning-making in their lives and their identity, including the Temple. Finally, in third Isaiah the prophet speaks to the people of Israel after they have returned from exile. These final chapters of the book are all about the rebuilding that must happen upon their return.
Our text today is from third Isaiah, this “rebuilding” period. Now your first thought might be that this would be a happy time – they’ve gotten to come home! Surely the promised joy and prosperity will follow! But picture it: their city has been destroyed. The Temple is in shambles. Though it has been 70 years since they were there, they surely had some hope and expectation that a return home would mean a return to a good, safe, comfortable life. But what they find there is anything but.
I’d like to stop here to point out how contemporary this feels. I have many times thought of this pandemic as a sort of exile. Though we haven’t been sent away somewhere, so much of what has brought meaning to our lives has been taken away from us. We are feeling disconnected, sometimes finding it hard even to connect with the people we love the most! Since March we have all been longing for the time when things will “go back to normal.” But what is “normal” anymore? And will it be for us like it was for the Israelites, where when we come home and get back to “normal” we are disappointed and grieving all over again that it does not look like we imagined it would?
Now enter today’s text. Knowing the context into which the prophet is speaking makes all the difference in how we hear these words. He’s not speaking generally about people who mourn, or are oppressed, or faint of spirit, or brokenhearted. He is speaking directly to people who are feeling those things right now. They are no doubt still feeling the pain and grief of what sent them into exile in the first place, and the pain and loss of their time in exile. And now on top of it, they are feeling the pain and disappointment of their return not being what they envisioned, and the fear of the hard work of rebuilding.
Now, when I’m feeling such a depth of emotion as all this, my inclination is to work quickly to get things back to normal, to what’s comfortable, back to something that looks pretty much like what I had lost. And I know I am not alone in this inclination. How many times have we heard or said ourselves, “I can’t wait until everything goes back to normal”? But the prophet’s words today, as hopeful as they are, offer a strong caution against this inclination. Remember, “how things were” is not a good look for the Israelites. Their old normal is a cycle of apostacy, idolatry and abusive power. It is what got them sent into exile in the first place! Going back to that normal may feel comfortable to them, but it is not God’s hope for them.
I think we need to keep this in mind, as we look ahead a few months toward our own period of rebuilding after this pandemic. We also cannot rebuild back to exactly what we were – not as individuals, or the Church, or as society. Just as Israel’s old normal was rife with bad behavior, our old normal was not all roses and sunshine. The pandemic and other events this year have revealed so many weaknesses in our society, so many broken places. The rich have gotten richer off this pandemic, while the poor are barely making it (if they’re making it at all). The well-off are able to stay safe and healthy and get the care they need, while those with less and especially people of color have gotten sick and have died at dramatically higher rates. We as a society need to look at these things and why they happened. We as a church need to consider how our mission is responding to what we have learned. As we build back, we must not build back the realities that allowed this to happen.
And here is where we can find some of that genuine joy we long for, even in the midst of uncertainty and grief. The prophet assures the Israelites, and us as well, that this difficult work of rebuilding a world that looks more like God’s vision for us, will not be up to us alone. The prophet uses this beautiful image of a gardener God, planting oaks that will display the Lord’s glory. God will tend this garden, this work. Then the prophet shifts to God not as a gardener, but as the garden itself, the soil that fertilizes growth. “As the earth brings forth its shoots,” the prophet writes, “and as a garden causes what is shown in it to spring up, so the Lord God will cause righteousness and praise to spring up before all the nations.” God will make that happen, not us alone. God will be the force that guides and nourishes the rebuilding of His people. And so, the process of transformation will be communal, God and people together.
And of course, we have something that Isaiah only hinted at: we have the knowledge that many centuries after this post-exilic restoration, God would come among His people even more profoundly, in the person of Jesus Christ. And the One who is Immanuel, God-with-us, this season, is with us in every season. He will be with us as we face this devastating wave of the pandemic. He will be with us as vaccines begin to be administered, and we start to think about returning to those activities that bring us joy. And he will be with us as we rebuild a better society than what we had pre-pandemic – one that is infused with God’s justice, compassion and love. May we keep eyes and hearts open to understand God’s hope for us.
Let us pray… Nourishing, empowering God, sometimes, even in the midst of a joyous season, we still feel sad, scared, and tired. Help us to trust in these moments, that restoration is not up to us alone, but that you work with us and in us to bring about your vision. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
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