Comfort, comfort, O my people This morning we have already heard played and we have sung, and now we have read, these wondrous, familiar, words from Isaiah 40: Comfort, O comfort my people,
says your God.
Speak tenderly toJerusalemand 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. We take from this cry that the God of all creation, the God of heaven and earth, the God revealed in Jesus Christ our Lord is a God of comfort, a God of compassion, a God of grace, a God of love. And here at the beginning of Isaiah chapter 40, the prophet puts these words into the mouth of God, that as God sees it, a time of travail is over, and God looks with tenderness upon God's people.
I understand that early this week there were some stunning sights in the night sky. In the western sky the planets of Jupiter and Venus, and the moon, were seemingly in close proximity. This doesn't happen very often. Of course we couldn't see it because of the fog.
In my extended family email conversation this astrological phenomenon was discussed. My cousin, a biology professor at a New Hampshire state college, tried to interest some students in what was up in the sky. They gave it a nodding glance and then went back to their iPods. Over in Cambodia Elijah saw it as well, along with some Cambodian friends. The thought there was that a cow spirit was looking upon them. Sina, noting that the curve of the moon underneath the two planets created the look of a smile, conjectured that God was smiling upon Cambodia.
Over here the shape of the moon from our perspective may have created more the impression of a frown, than a smile, but the Asian understanding works best when thinking of Isaiah 40. Yes, God does smile upon us.
These poetic words are set in the sixth century towards the end of the time of Babylonian captivity. Early in the sixth century BC thousands of the Hebrew children were carted away to Babylon. There they hung their harps on the tree limbs and moaned, how can we sing our good `ol songs in a foreign land? But the Babylonian empire would come to an end, reaching their demise as so many great powers have through the centuries, and towards the end of the sixth century BC the Hebrew people had opportunity to return to their homeland.
The time of siege and displacement coming to an end, the prophet voices the word of God that the suffering is soon to end.
Bur our passage has more to it than just a soothing word of consolation.
Some perhaps unsettling notions In the first few lines of Isaiah 40 the speaker is God. But then, for the most part, in the rest of the passage we listen in on a dialogue between heavenly beings. It's as though we are privy to a divine council meeting.
In the ensuing verses (4-6) we find out that the tenderness of God needs to be exhibited in strong, even forceful ways. Make a straight path through the harsh desert, a voice cries out. The valleys are to be filled in and lifted up. The mountains and hills will be made low. Uneven, rough patches are to be planed and smoothed. Then the glory of the Lord can appear, the heavenly voice concludes.
It's a reminder that though God comforts, God calls for the strength to see to it that the hills and valleys, the inequalities and unfairness that we witness in life, that these things be leveled, be made smooth.
Perhaps we feel a tension here with the strength and power of leveling things out, making things fair, on the one hand; and the tender voice of God calling out, Comfort, O comfort my people… This tension is right there at the end of the section as well. Another divine councilmember instructs to lift up your voice with strength. Then, the Lord God comes with mightand his arm rules for him. But then the section ends with the tender description of a shepherd feeding his flock, gathering up his sheep in his arms. We are left with the challenge of living faithfully as servants of a God who brings comfort. And so it ought to be with us. We are left with the challenge of living faithfully as servants of a God who calls those of us, including ourselves, who have grown too lackadaisical, too easily conformed to familiar routines, too at ease with the way things are, to actually change, not just others, but ourselves.
Here's another way of reflecting on this passage. This part of Isaiah, chapters 40-55, sometimes known as ``second Isaiah,'' is framed by the idea of the ``word of God.'' In chapter 40, in response to the prophet's wondering what to say the heavenly being comments on the frail nature of humankind (people are grass, their constancy is like the flower of the field. The grass withers, the flower fades…). But in contrast to the finite nature of humankind the word of our God will stand forever.
A parallel idea emerges at the end of chapter 55. The word that goes out from the mouth of God will not return empty, we are told.
But the people do have a problem. While consolation and deliverance from Babylonian captivity are good things they are made uneasy by how this is coming about. In chapter 45 the Lord has clearly appointed Cyrus, the Persian king, to be the agent of deliverance from Babylon. He's the one charged to rebuild the temple at Jerusalem after having conquered Babylon. The problem becomes, how can this foreign king be the agent of deliverance? This just doesn't add up. He obviously doesn't share the same faith and values as those he is benefiting. This becomes an uncomfortable tension that the people must face.
There is yet another disconcerting notion in the ensuing chapters. We will see, beginning in chapter 42, the image of the ``servant'' appear. The God of consolation will bring deliverance and comfort, ultimately, through the vehicle of the servant. This is how the nations and all people will be blessed, through the servant. Here again the people have a challenging notion to deal with. Accustomed as they for the exertion of might and power to rule the day, the notion of influence and strength coming in the shape of a servant upsets the thinking.
Ultimately, we must live with these paradoxes. Tenderness and consolation mingle with strength and power. The work of God can happen with and through sources that would otherwise ignore him. And God's promises and blessings will come in the person of a servant (and not the mighty warrior).
Bringing comfort in these days We are to be people of comfort and consolation, but also mountain levelers (metaphorically speaking, we don't want to knock down Jesse Morrow Mountain!), folks interested in things being just and right. We can't just sit back and enjoy our comfort food. We can't just imbibe a bottle of southern comfort and escape the realities all about us. No, we can't do that.
We get another picture of how it ought to be, and what direction we should be pointed in, when we jump over to the Mark passage. Earlier we read the first few verses of the first chapter of Mark's gospel.
Mark doesn't begin his gospel with the story of Jesus' birth. No manger bed, no Mary and Joseph, no angels, no friendly shepherds, no hospitable innkeepers, no animals, no kings from the East. No, Mark begins by describing a New Testament prophet figure, John the Baptist, who is quoting Isaiah. Prepare the way of the Lord. Make the paths straight. John the Baptist is out in the wilderness, out in the desert, dressed in camel's hair and leather, eating locusts and honey, a real wild man. And he yells it out with urgency. Prepare the way of the Lord. Make the paths straight.
And he adds to Isaiah by preaching the need of a baptism of repentancefor the forgiveness of sins. We sense the urgency in his voice. This is something that needs to happen right now! A dramatic turning, a dramatic reordering of priorities, this is what must happen right now!
John the Baptist's appearance and demeanor remind us of the prophets of Old Testament times. We imagine them unkempt, wandering out in the wilderness, walking into the civilized places, telling the kings, sometimes bluntly informing the people just what is right and what is wrong. So in that sense John the Baptist is linked to the past.
But John's message is pointing ahead. Someone is coming, he says. I'm not worthy of even getting down on my knees and arranging his sandals. He's not going to just baptize you with water, like I do, no, he's going to baptize you with the Holy Spirit.
You know, I believe God has an uncanny way of meeting us at our point of need. There are those for whom the word of the day is the assurance of God's comfort. You feel like you've been living in the midst of a great storm. You've known too much hardship in recent times. You've been like the children of Israel, carted off to a foreign land, you've been far from home, and so the word of the Lord to you is that our God is a comforting God, one who knows you by name, and who loves you. The words ``Comfort, O comfort my people'' are meant for you.
Some of us may be in the position of knowing, even right now, that we are not so much in need of consolation ourselves, but we know others who could use an arm around their shoulder, a friend to lean on. If that's you, I hope you can be that kind of agent of comfort and consolation.
Or maybe this is the day for repentance. Yes, the times are stormy with the economic crisis out there, the wars that are raging. But deep down, we know that greed and violence have found a way to work their devious tactics within us. And if that's you, the first step is to acknowledge that reality to your self and to God, so that you can become a recipient of God's healing, cleansing and forgiveness.
When God's Spirit grabs hold of us, when we take a deep breath, and do the reordering of our choices and priorities which are necessary, then we will be energized by God's empowering Spirit to walk the path that provides comfort to not only ourselves, but the nations.
