 |
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
|
Dr. Peter Jauhiainen
December 4, 2005
Finding Our Center
Isaiah 40:1-11
In our Old Testament reading this morning, we heard a speech given to God, which opens the second major section of the Book of Isaiah in a dramatic, hopeful fashion. In it, God, presiding over a heavenly council, issues an authoritative and powerful proclamation: "Comfort, O comfort my people."
The intended audience of this speech is the Jewish community in exile in Babylon. For roughly 35-50 years, they had been living with a painful memory. The Babylonians had conquered the land of Judah and had plundered their beloved city of Jerusalem, destroying their sacred temple in the process. Adding to their shame and humiliation, they had been hauled off into captivity to serve at the pleasure of their new overlords. Powerless, vulnerable, and despondent, they were living a nightmare. With their house of worship in ruins, and surrounded by worshippers of Marduk and the other Babylonian gods, it would have been easy for the Jews to lose their religious identity, to allow their political alienation to give way to spiritual alienation. Had not Yahweh been defeated? Had not the gods of Babylon displayed their greater power?
They were truly a people that had experienced life as chaos. As one commentator puts it, they "had experienced the loss of nearly all of those structures and institutions which give identity to a community." Bitter and dejected, aliens in a strange land, they were in danger of losing their center—a vision of life "ordered around one life-giving Center."
Into this situation steps the prophet. "Comfort, comfort my people. . . . Speak tenderly to Jerusalem. . . .she has served her term. . . . her penalty is paid."
Now the comfort being offered here is not some sort of escapist vision of life. It is not one which offers a retreat from pain and anguish, or helps us avoid trial and hardship. Nor is it a cheap comfort that softens the harshness of life—that says everything is just fine and dandy, as long as you smile and maintain a positive attitude. This is not the false comfort of certain TV evangelists. No. It is a comfort that comes to a people as they actively engage the real world with all its cruel and hazardous twists and turns. It is in the wilderness experience of the exile that God reaches out in mercy to comfort his people.
"In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God."
In the Bible, the wilderness or desert often serves as a place to encounter God's presence in dramatic ways. It is a place of preparation—for leadership, for ministry, for dramatic calling. It is in the wilderness that Moses encounters God through the burning bush, calling him to lead the Israelites out of their Egyptian captivity. In our Gospel reading today, it is in the wilderness that we hear the voice of John the Baptist crying out to "prepare the way of the Lord." And when Jesus was baptized by John, the Spirit of God immediately drove him out into the wilderness in preparation for his public ministry.
The wilderness. It is a place devoid of the normal comforts of life. Raw, barren, exposed to danger . . . where anything can happen. It is a place where human security is stripped away, where human feelings of self-reliance are subdued. It is humbling, causing us to feel less independent, less like the world revolves around us.
Yet it is these desert-like places, these experiences of the "wilderness," whether we like them or not, that can prepare us for a genuine movement of God. It is a place where we can find our Center.
Sometimes we are faced with "wilderness experiences" of our own making. For me, this holiday season is an acute reminder of that. For it symbolizes how chaotic, over-worked, and over-scheduled many of our lives have become. And it symbolizes the greed, selfishness, and materialism that inflict American culture. The two are certainly not mutually exclusive. Many Americans work longer and longer hours to attain the material status and buy the products that they think will bring ultimate satisfaction and fulfillment. Consumption is the name of the game. Need I remind you that consumption also refers to a debilitating disease, a progressive wasting away of the body.
Now I certainly don't want to suggest that buying things that give us pleasure is bad. Or buying gifts for others is bad. But if our satisfaction of material desires leads to a starvation of spirit—a wasting away of our spiritual selves—then we have a problem. If our drive for consumption suffocates that inner voice that shows us what is true, good, and moral, then we have lost our Center. I'm sickened every year by the free-for-all that takes place on the day after Thanksgiving when some people usher in the Christmas season by fighting each other and trampling on the fallen elderly to snatch up computers, DVD players, and other gadgets at cut-rate prices. I am told that at a local Menards one customer was even stabbed by another with a screwdriver. These are examples of people who have lost their Center.
In the wilderness of our materialism and consumption, of our over-worked, over-scheduled lives, prepare the way of the Lord.
Sometimes we face "wilderness episodes" not of our own choosing. The difficult realities of life come crashing down on our heads. Things happen to us that may cause us to lose our Center. Divorce, the death of a child or spouse, physical or emotional abuse, a disease like cancer, the loss of a job, a sense of isolation and loneliness. Like the Jewish exiles in Babylon, at times we feel the absence of God in painful ways. These events can lead to bitterness and dejection, to dark nights of the soul when we feel all is lost.
Yet these experiences can also bring about a spiritual renewal or re-centering, a re-examination of life that zeroes in like a laser beam on what is truly important. Prophets like Isaiah refused to concede that such events could not be used by God as opportunities for moral and spiritual renewal, recommitment, and growth. They saw such occasions as vehicles for God's mercy and love to reach us in new ways, challenging us to a new way of life.
A person very dear to me is currently experiencing the painful reality of divorce proceedings. After 21 years of marriage, his wife told him that she wanted out. His carefully constructed world suddenly started collapsing around him. He had a hard time eating, he lost sleep. For weeks he struggled to make it through the workday without crying in front of others. So much of what he had worked for was being taken away from him—his marriage, his home, normal family routines, helping his children with homework.
But in the midst of his deep wilderness of depression and loneliness, he engaged in much soul-searching and self-examination. At his lowest point he was touched by the mercy of God. "Comfort, comfort my people."
This triggered in him a spiritual reawakening. He regained his Center; he reconnected with God. After years of declining religious observance he starting attending church more and he reengaged a stagnant prayer life. He is emerging from this experience with a fresh sense of God's grace in his life and a renewed determination to be the best father and the most compassionate human being he can be.
God did not remove the sting of divorce. God did not offer him a gracious hand that anesthetizes the pain of reality. But God did offer him the reassurance that he is present with us, even in the most dreadful circumstances.
Isaiah insisted on the ability of God to work in the most bleak situation. No event was entirely meaningless in terms of how God might act or how humans might respond, with God's help, to bring purpose out of chaos. The challenge is to find God in these circumstances, or to be receptive to God's reaching out to us, to prepare the way for God's presence. Isaiah refused to let dismay and defeatism be the last word.
Churches can undergo wilderness experiences whereby they are in danger of losing their Center. Many of us here perhaps have experienced this interim period between senior pastors as a kind of "wilderness." It may cause us to fret about the current state and the future direction of the church. Perhaps even some of us are withholding financial support, taking a "wait and see" approach until a new pastor arrives. On the other hand, some of us may be so focused on self-preservation, on timidly holding on for now, that we lose sight of what God is calling us to do in the heart of Cedar Rapids. It is possible to be so concerned with balancing budgets and maintaining the status quo that we fail to venture forth in faith to support the mission of our church and to envision new ways that we might be a magnet for ministry.
This time of "interim wilderness" can cause us to lose our Center and prevent us from discerning the movement of God. Or it can be a time of reflection and regeneration, a time to recall God's mercy and faithfulness, to renew our sense of the Center, and to rekindle our mission.
"In the wilderness, prepare the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God."
| Return to Sermon List |
First Presbyterian
Church of Cedar Rapids
310 Fifth Street SE Cedar Rapids, IA 52401
Phone: 319-364-6148
E-mail: church@fpccr.org
Copyright © 2003-2007 First Presbyterian Church of Cedar Rapids. All rights reserved.