But wait… there’s more! – sermon on December 7, 2014
Isaiah 40: 1-11 Comfort, O comfort my people, says your God. 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. A voice cries out: “In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God. 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. Then the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all people shall see it together, for the mouth of the Lord has spoken.” 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. The grass withers, the flower fades, when the breath of the Lord blows upon it; surely the people are grass. True, the grass withers, the flower fades; but the word of our God will stand forever.
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!” See, the Lord God comes with might, and his arm rules for him; his reward is with him. 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.
Mark 1: 1-8 The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God. As it is written in the prophet Isaiah, “See, I am sending my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way; the voice of one crying out in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.’” John the baptizer appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. And people from the whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem were going out to him, and were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins. Now John was clothed with camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey. He proclaimed, “The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals. I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.”
Sermon: But wait… there’s more! by Rev. Doreen Oughton
What is it like for you to hear the scripture read? Do you listen attentively? Do you get distracted by certain words or phrases, or let yourself resonate with other phrases? Are you listening to the whole, to find a message, or is it just background leading up to the sermon, in which I may or may not explain the passage, but will hopefully give a more clear message? I’m grateful to have some deacons who are willing to look for and share a message from their reading, but it occurs to me how different our experiences with the scripture are each Sunday, you hearing a reading one time, and me having spent days at least reading, thinking and praying about it. Now there is not just one right way to read, hear, understand or use scripture. If your mind wanders while it is being read, or just a word or phrase sticks with you and you let go of the overall message, that might be the holy spirit working in you, and it might be just what you need. But there might be other times when you long to understand the gist of the passage, but it’s hard to understand. Some passages are more straightforward than others.
In the Isaiah reading from this morning I find some beautiful phrases – “Comfort, o comfort my people, says your God. Speak tenderly to Jerusalem – make straight in the desert a highway for God.” Yet the overall message is obscured. What’s the set up, who is speaking, who is being spoken to? It can be confusing. I tried to help by breaking up some of the voices, but I’m not sure that helped. Feel free to open your pew bible to the passage (p. 619). In my study bible, it is explained that what is happening here is a meeting of a divine council – a gathering in heaven of servants of God. There are different voices of the council, who are talking to each other about the news to share with the Israeli exiles. One voice gives the overall message from God that the time of punishment is over. The messengers are to go into the wilderness, where the Israelites have been exiled, and make a highway. Go and cry out. Then the questions comes – what shall I cry – for people are like grass. The response comes – get up to a high mountain and announce to them “here is your God, coming with might.” The overall message is that the people of Israel have been hurting, and their time of suffering is coming to an end. It also contains the message that the same suffering that will be ended by God’s mighty arm was inflicted on them by God’s mighty arm. God has been penalizing them, and it goes so far as to say they have been punished twice as severely as they deserved. No wonder the divine council is confused. What do YOU think about this?
I struggle so with this characterization of God as a fickle abuser of power – like the person who abuses a partner then showers that same person with gifts and attention and declarations of love. I can’t accept it, don’t believe it. I think the faithful people of Israel were trying to make sense of their exile and of all the hardships that had fallen on them. I know for children who suffer abuse at the hands of their parents it is psychically more beneficial to blame themselves than to believe their parents to be out of control or ill-intentioned – at least while they are dependent on them. I think this part of the passage is a human projection, mixed in with the transcendent word of God.
But how I need to believe right now that in this wilderness a way is being prepared for God – with valleys lifted and mountains made low. I need to be reminded that in some ways we are but grass in these human bodies, in this broken world, and that it is not just the word of God that stands forever, but the one soul that envelops, that is gathered into God’s arms with the cry “Here is your God.” Our God is not only the arms holding us, but us being held. That’s the eternal truth.
In the gospel passage, Mark declares that the one crying out in the wilderness to make a way for God is John the Baptist. And the way, John says, is through Jesus. Mark’s opening line, some say, should actually be considered the title of his gospel – “the beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the son of God.” His whole gospel is just the beginning. And that is where I am drawing my hope today, that everything the bible tells us about God’s abundant love is just the beginning. Jesus’ healings and teaching on love – just the beginning. His forgiveness even of those who condemned, betrayed, denied and killed him – just the beginning. His resurrection and the promise of eternal life – just the beginning.
It reminds me of a song that is part of the Jewish Passover ritual – called dayenu, which means “it would have sufficed,” or “it would have been enough.” The song retells the story of the exodus – if God had brought us out of Egypt without executing justice, dayenu – it would have been enough. Then it goes on, if you had executed justice and not given us their wealth, it would have been enough. Mark begins his gospel in the same spirit of dayenu. If you, God, had just sent prophets to declare your love and your will, dayenu – it would have suffice. If you had come to us – Emmanuel, taken on human flesh and walked this earth as a man named Jesus, dayenu – it would have been enough. If you, as Jesus, had healed and taught and preached a message of love, without risking your life – it would have been enough. But none of that was enough in God’s eyes. God went farther than we could ever have hoped, let alone expected. God not only lived a human life, but died a human death before reclaiming divinity through resurrection – not just for Jesus the Christ, but for all who want it. It would have sufficed. But God promises us even more, even more. I tell you at times like this I struggle to trust it, and I am even more grateful to be part of a faith community – not just this church, but the Church universal, my denomination and all Christian, and all people who love God. Because they can carry hope for me when I cannot carry it. I need others to remind me of God’s promises and God’s faithfulness.
There was something that stuck with me in my research this week – a look at the roots of the word “comfort.” Comfort, o comfort my people. “Com” means “with” and “fort” means “strength.” So to give comfort means to be “with strength.” It’s not about magically alleviating pain and struggle, it is about strengthening someone to get through it – to maybe even inspiring their growth in the struggle. And I find strength in the hope of God’s promised kindom. So I will look to that high mountain for someone to proclaim – here is your God. And when I am strengthened, perhaps I will also make my way up there to proclaim it for someone else who needs comfort. For truly, the word of our God will stand forever. May it be so.
