 |
| Advent is when we should make the jump - will we do it willingly? |
Have you ever gotten what you did not deserve? I don’t mean just at Christmas, when you were either disappointed or delighted with a surprise gift. In the Bible some people get what they deserve and others what they don’t deserve. Sometimes a king, or maybe an entire nation, say, Egypt or Israel, does wrong or sins, and then they suffer the consequences. It’s what they deserve. Like crime, sin has consequences, some of which are realized in this life, others in the next.
There are also examples in the Bible of people getting what they do not deserve. Some of them are tragic – Jesus being sentenced to death is the leading case. Even Pilate, who sentenced him, declared that Jesus had done no wrong. But he ordered Jesus crucified anyway.
Other times, people get what they do not deserve, and it is good. Second Samuel, chapter nine, tells the story of Mephibosheth, son of Jonathan, who was son of Saul, whom David succeeded as king. At the very pinnacle of his reign, David remembered Saul. He asked his court, “Is there anyone left of the house of Saul, that I may show him kindness for Jonathan’s sake?”
David did not ask, “Who among Saul’s house deserves some kindness?” He didn’t ask whether there was anyone from Saul’s house who could serve him now. No, David asks simply, “Is there anyone whom I may show kindness?”
David’s question was purely graceful and loving. “Yes,” says a former servant of Saul. “Jonathan’s son still lives. He is crippled in both feet.” Immediately, David replies, “Bring him to live here!” David restored Mephibosheth’s property, and handicapped Mephibosheth ate at David’s table.
The story of Mephibosheth at David’s table illustrates God’s grace. Divine grace is the unmerited, unearned favor of God. Mephibosheth didn’t deserve a place at the table. He could not possibly have earned it. He was crippled and very much out of place compared to the famous generals and statesmen and the royal David and Bathsheba. Yet, there he was, dining at the finest table that could be prepared. Nothing but grace brought him there. He didn’t deserve it.
Another fellow who didn’t deserve what he got was a young man Jesus told of who got sick and tired of living at home with Dad and Dad’s rules, Dad’s regulations, Dad’s list of chores, Dad’s discipline. He demanded his share of his inheritance now, which was basically telling Dad, you are as good as dead to me. I renounce you. And then he left the country. But he went broke and in desperation returned home, hoping that his father would at least hire him as a field hand.
But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him. The he threw a big homecoming party for his rebellious son because he felt as though his son had died, and was alive again, had been lost, but now was found.
In 586 BC the Babylonian empire conquered Jerusalem after years of warfare and exiled a large number of Jews to Babylon, hundreds of miles to the east. For decades they remained, until the king there told them they could go home. Isaiah had prophesied for forty years that Judah was in mortal danger. The first 39 chapters of the book of Isaiah are concerned with that. But the last 27 chapters take a new tone, beginning with our passage for today, Isaiah 40:1-11:
1 Comfort, O comfort my people, says your God. 2 Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and cry to her that she has served her term, that her penalty is paid, that she has received from the Lord’s hand double for all her sins.
3 A voice cries out: “In the wilderness prepare the way of the LORD, make straight in the desert a highway for our God. 4 Every valley shall be lifted up, and every mountain and hill be made low; the uneven ground shall become level, and the rough places a plain. 5 Then the glory of the LORD shall be revealed, and all people shall see it together, for the mouth of the LORD has spoken.”
6 A voice says, “Cry out!” And I said, “What shall I cry?” All people are grass, their constancy is like the flower of the field. 7 The grass withers, the flower fades, when the breath of the LORD blows upon it; surely the people are grass. 8 The grass withers, the flower fades; but the word of our God will stand forever.
9 Get you up to a high mountain, O Zion, herald of good tidings; lift up your voice with strength, O Jerusalem, herald of good tidings, lift it up, do not fear; say to the cities of Judah, “Here is your God!” 10 See, the Lord GOD comes with might, and his arm rules for him; his reward is with him, and his recompense before him. 11 He will feed his flock like a shepherd; he will gather the lambs in his arms, and carry them in his bosom, and gently lead the mother sheep.
It has usually been thought that this passage announces the end of the Jews’ exile in Babylon. Or it may address the end of the troubles and wars in Israel before the exile took place. In any event Isaiah advises the people that their penalty has been paid, they have served their term, and that they have received from the Lord double for all their sins. Their sentence of war and conquest is finished, or their exile, so their debt for their sin has been paid. After all, when prisoners are released from a prison term, we say they have paid their debt to society. And that’s a sound interpretation of the passage.
But what about the part that says they have received from the Lord’s hand double for all their sins? That’s not fair; is it a case of God punishing them twice as hard as they deserved? I think this is related to the assurance of comfort. Isaiah is assuring the people that their sin really is remitted, as much as if they had received twice the sentence they should have gotten. Hence, they should be comforted.
What does comfort mean to us? La-Z-Boy tries to sell us its recliners because they are comfortable. When we try to comfort someone in grief we commiserate with them or help them with meals or errands. Consider, though, that the word, “comfort,” is from an Old French word meaning, “to strengthen,” derived from Latin meaning the same thing.
When God comforts his people, he gives them the strength to do what needs to be done. But the way that God sets before them is not the way they are used to. When I was stationed at Fort Bragg, North Carolina, I asked a paratrooper acquaintance of mine how many parachute jumps he had made.
He said, “None.”
I said, “None? But you’re in the 82d Airborne Division!”
“Yeah,” he said, “but I have never jumped from a plane. However, I have been pushed out seventy-eight times!”
The comfort that God is announcing is that he will give his people the strength to to jump into a new way of living, a new way of relating to him. There is a new day coming, a new advent of God’s presence, and they need to be ready. And sometimes, God pushes us when we won't make the jump.
God will do for us mortals what we surely don’t deserve: save us from our own sin, our own faults, our own inherent inabilities. Where our morality and spirituality is a desert, a wilderness, God will make a straight highway. There is to be a new order of things now, a leveling, as it were, so that all will be with God in the same way.
Eventually, the Jews in exile in Babylon did return home, but their new independence was short-lived. They were again conquered by the Greeks under Alexander, enjoyed another brief period of independence, then fell to the Romans, who crushed the Jewish state so utterly that it vanished until 1948.
Of all the prophets who foretold Christ, Isaiah was perhaps the most compelling. His prophecies of the Suffering Servant are poetically beautiful and uncannily accurate in describing the Christ. What could be more remarkable than for the Son of God to appear in person, born of woman, living among his people? Jesus was indeed “the glory of the LORD,” revealed for all people to see.
Empires come and go, withering like grass and fading like flowers, says Isaiah, but God remains.
A young musician once went to see his old music teacher. During the visit, his elderly mentor took a tuning fork and struck it on the end of the table. He said. “That is ‘A.’” From the floor above them they could hear the voice of a singer rehearsing. “She sings sharp,” the old teacher said with a smile. He struck the tuning fork again and paused as he lifted it and said, “She is sharp, but this is an ‘A’ — always has been, always will be — 440 vibrations per second. It will still be ‘A’ five thousand years from now.”
The word of our God, said Isaiah, will stand forever.
Is there a wilderness in your life? Spiritually speaking, do things seem like a desert? Be comforted, be strengthened, and during this Advent season, prepare a way for the Lord and make straight in the desert a highway for God. The glory of the Lord is coming near. Be prepared!
