by
the Rev. Dr. Paul S. Nancarrow
This
sermon is based on Isaiah
40:1-11
An
audio version of this sermon is available here.
“Prepare the way of the
Lord!” That imperative, that command, rings through all our
scripture readings for today, this Second Sunday of Advent. We
Christians are perhaps most familiar with that imperative as
proclaimed by John the Baptist, preparing the way for the public
ministry of Jesus. But the image of a Way prepared for God is far
older and far broader than just John the Baptist — and when we look
closely at some of those other versions of the image, what we see is
not just how we prepare a way for God, but how God
prepares a way for us,
how God is at work in the world to open for us the way to become more
alive, more compassionate, more just, more peaceable, more like the
fully realized people God gives us the potential to be. Advent is our
season for witnessing how God prepares the way for our fulfillment,
both now in this mortal life, and in the greater life that is yet to
come.
How God
prepares the way for us
is the theme of our scripture readings
today. And what these readings tell us is that the Way God prepares
is not always easy,
it’s not always gentle and quiet and free of risk; but God’s way
is trustworthy, and God’s way is sure, and God’s way will lead to
a reality where righteousness is at home.
That message really comes
through in our First Testament lesson today, this passage from the
40th chapter of
Isaiah. Isaiah Chapter 40 is the point at which the whole book of
Isaiah turns, it
shifts its direction suddenly from being a dire warning to the people
that they must turn from their wickedness and follow God before God’s
punishment falls upon them, and suddenly becomes a book of comfort, a
series of prophecies that promise God’s consolation for the people,
God’s restoration of the people. God promises to build a Way, a
highway in the desert, that will bring the Jewish people back from
their exile in Babylon to their home in Jerusalem, a Way that will
bring all people back from their estrangement from God to their home
in God’s love. A voice cries out to the heavenly powers: “In the
wilderness prepare the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a
highway for our God.” And on that divinely built highway, God
himself “will gather the lambs in his arms, and carry them in his
bosom, and gently lead the mother sheep.”
The imagery of God’s Way
in the desert is very familiar to us — perhaps even too
familiar. It is so familiar to us that I think sometimes we miss the
disturbing, the shocking dimension in these words. “Every valley
shall be lifted up, and every mountain and hill be made low,” the
prophet says, “the uneven ground shall become level, and the rough
places a plain.” Think for a moment about what those words really
mean,
not just the beauty they lend to Handel’s Messiah,
but the concrete scene they describe:
mountains shaking to their very roots, falling down to become flat
ground; valleys heaving up in monstrous earthquakes to become level
with the plain. It’s a pretty frightening
set of images. We had a small earthquake here in Virginia last summer
— you can still see the cracks it left in the patio behind the
rectory — and that little temblor was scary enough. Imagine if you
looked up one day and saw the Blue Ridge mountains shaking, sliding,
tumbling down to become level ground; imagine if our whole Shenandoah
Valley were suddenly heaved up to make an even plain; imagine if
Highway 250, winding its way through valley and ridgetop, were
suddenly made straight and even and level and unimpeded. I’d be
pretty scared if I saw all that happening. Isaiah describes a
fearsome upheaval in the natural order of things, a terrifying
disruption in the way-things-are, when God prepares a Way to bring
his people home.
And even if we take the
images strictly metaphorically, they still describe a terrible
disruption in the lives of the people
the prophet is addressing: many of the Jews of Second Isaiah’s time
had grown comfortable in Babylon: some had risen to high positions in
the Babylonian government, many had grown wealthy in Babylonian
commerce. Going back to Judea to rebuild a ruined Jerusalem would
have been a pretty scary prospect to many of them, as scary as
watching mountains tumble and valleys rise.
But the meaning
of these images, Isaiah says, is not fear or terror; the meaning is
comfort, the meaning
is consolation, the
meaning is strengthening
the people to put their trust in God and do the work God has given
them to do. The prophet’s vision is that upheavals and disruptions
and dislocations in our comfortable and settled lives can be God’s
very way of preparing the path that will lead us to greater life. And
the prophet’s message is that if we will trust in God’s way, if
we will put our feet on God’s highway in the wilderness, then we
too can be gathered into a City of Peace, where the glory of God
shall be revealed, and all people shall see it together. The Way that
God prepares is not always easy,
but the Way of God will lead us to larger life.
And that is how we can
come to know God’s Way with us, too. We may not be looking for a
return from exile, as Isaiah’s people were; but we do know what it
is like to live in a world of upheaval, we do know what it is like to
experience disruptions and dislocations in our lives — and we too
are called to let God shake us out of our comfortable, complacent
routines and lead us on the highway through the desert to a larger
way of life.
A friendship is damaged by
betrayal or anger; but that dislocation also opens the opportunity
for reconciliation, and a deeper commitment, and a friendship that is
stronger in the long run.
A family is disrupted by
alcoholism or addiction; but the pain of intervening in addictive
behaviors becomes the way into recovery, the way to greater freedom
and more genuine love for everyone in the family system.
An individual comes to a
time of illness or loss or sadness or grief, when a whole entire life
seems turned upside down; but that dislocation and disruption become
the way of discovering a new sense of self, a new way of life, a new
height of faith, a new depth of love.
A church finds its customs
and habits challenged by changing patterns of participation, and
shifting expectations of membership, and an increasing percentage of
the general population who say that church and religion don’t
really mean much of anything to them anyway; but facing those
challenges opens a way for that church to move beyond “We’ve
always done it that way,” and to become more intentional
about the practices of its faith, and the centrality of prayer, and
its mission to be Jesus
for the world.
We know what it is like to
live in a world of upheaval, to live lives touched by disruption and
dislocation — so to us as well these scriptures speak, and promise
that in the wilderness God prepares a Way, in the deserts and wastes
and scary places of our lives, God makes the pathway straight; when
everything around us seems to be dissolving and withering away, God
is preparing the new possibility that will bring us into a larger
life. For us, too, the message is that we may put our trust in God
and do the work God gives us to do, we may strive to live lives of
holiness and godliness now,
looking ahead to when the fullness of grace will be revealed. For us,
too, the message is “Comfort, comfort my people, says your God —
because in your wilderness, too, the Way of the Lord is being
prepared.” And that is the spirit of Advent we are invited to
receive and embrace and live this day.
No comments:
Post a Comment