
Our Desert Lives Bloom!
DATE: December 16th, 2007
SERVICE: Third Sunday in Advent
TEXT: Isaiah 35:1-10“To all of you Saints here this morning, grace and peace to you from God our Father, from His Son, Jesus Christ and His Holy Spirit. AMEN
Is there anything more miserable than an airport on December 23, especially if the weather happens to have taken a turn for the worse? Not that it's something I've ever experienced since I do not travel at Christmas-time (for some reason I always have to work!) But, I've seen the news footage of people crying and cursing as flight after flight was designated as delayed or cancelled on the TV monitors.
Getting home for Christmas can be a trial; that can be true whether the trip is 1000 miles or only a few blocks because upon arriving the experience may not fit the Better Homes and Gardens image. The reality is that strained family relationships, financial woes, illness, unresolved conflicts and uncomfortable memories do not disappear no matter how much goodwill or how many gifts are heaped upon them. Whether it's because the reality does not match the ideal, or because people are constantly being reminded of what used to be but is no more or because they are thinking about what they never had, the journeys we face this time of year can be challenging. In the face of these realities we once again hear the counter cultural word of scripture for Advent, this time from the Prophet Isaiah. He speaks of a journey, and what he describes is a trip filled with hope. Certainly his words surprised his first listeners who have just heard the Prophet speak of judgment. What we read today is a vivid contrast to what is written in Chapter 34 where "the Lord is enraged against all the nations" and will pour down upon the people "a day of vengeance". Steams of water are described as being turned into pitch, and soil into sulfur. No one is able to pass through the land which is overgrown with thorns and inhabited with jackals, goat-demons and other predators. This is the Lord's judgment on a sinful land. It's a hopeless picture that is painted. So, how amazing it is that the next thing we read is a complete reversal and hope prevails. Instead of pitch and soil, the desert - while still a wilderness - is a glad desert that rejoices with blossoms. This is a metaphor for the spiritual renewal and vitality of people who have suffered. Their lives will be like Lebanon, Carmel and Sharon, places famous for their lush beauty that represent prosperity, while the wilderness represents need. This transformation from living life in the desert to dwelling in beauty and comfort will happen only because the Lord has ordained it. The curse is reversed; the haunt of jackals is now a luscious swamp full of life and hope. Keep in mind that the listeners, the people of Israel, have been in exile away from their homeland for decades. Their bondage has sapped their spirit and strength. But now God will strengthen them and calm their fear; God is with them. They are free from all that has limited them. And, a road will unfold before them to take them back to their homeland. It will be a Holy Way; this is a huge contrast from the previous proclamation that no one could pass through the land of the curse. This Way will be reserved for God's people and they will be safe from anyone who might pose a threat. In fact, it is so sure that even a fool can proceed without danger. (1) This is a beautiful passage, isn't it? Although it is shaped by its historical setting, it is not bound by it. These words speak to all of us who are on a journey. To quote Kevin Baker's Advent study, we too have feeble knees that act up every time they try to walk just a few steps along the road of discipleship. Our hearts are often fearful; we are too scared to trust or to make a leap of faith. We worry about stepping out into an unknown future merely on a word and a promise. To everyone who wanders around without hope or joy, Isaiah says, "Be strong, do not fear! Here is your God." (2) While this is a message for all times, perhaps it is one we need to hear especially when stress mounts and life is not what we hoped it would be, which is something that often seems truer in December than in the middle of July. I realized the truth of this even before I was ordained. When I was a senior in seminary 20 years ago I was given the opportunity to preach at the community's weekly Communion service; it was in Advent on the last Wednesday before Christmas break began. I do not remember my sermon in detail, but I know that I preached on that which is often left unsaid at Christmas-time, like the unrecorded internal conversation the teenage Mary may have had upon being told she would have a child or the fact that not everyone longs to go home for Christmas, and in fact may dread doing so. While I do not recall what word of hope I shared in that sermon, I do remember that the response to it was overwhelming. It struck a cord with people. In fact, just last fall when I reconnected with a member of my class after nearly 20 years, he mentioned that sermon. We need to hear a word of hope. Can we imagine that Isaiah's words are for us as we journey in life? They reach us whether our trips are across the country or down the block at Christmas, or are the day-to-day traveling that takes us to the places and people that make up our world. The message is clear. In the wilderness of our lives - even the driest desert can blossom with beauty, rejoicing and new life. God is with us to make us strong. We can be freed from all that limits us; that which threatens us will be transformed. The way that leads to a new life is set before us and we, the redeemed, the loved and forgiven children of God, will walk that way singing songs of joy because sorrow and sighing are no more. Are you skeptical that this can be true in the here and now? It's a description of that future day when Jesus returns, right? Yes, it is. But, the message of hope that the prophet proclaims also is for our lives today. Perhaps realizing that is the starting point; then we step out in faith, embarking on the journey of faith, a life-long trip that leads us to the loving heart of God each day until ultimately we rest there. The airport may still be miserable on December 23, and the trip to grandma's house may not be all that the song-writers envisioned, but hope that originates in God's heart cannot be destroyed, and it will surround us. So it is that the parched places in our lives will become a desert that rejoices and blossoms with hope. (1) SermonWriter, Resources for Lectionary Preaching, The Third Sunday in Advent, Isaiah 35:1-10, www.sermonwriter.com
(2) Advent 2007:Hail the Heaven Born by Kevin Baker, 2007 by Abingdon Press, pg. 28.
AMEN