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"A Vital Mission"

Sermon by Dr. Greg Knox Jones
on Isaiah 49:1-7
given June 3, 2007

Two weeks ago, we examined a passage of captivity.  In the sixth century Before the Common Era, the Hebrew people were routed in battle and dragged to Babylon.  It was truly one of the darkest moments in the history of Israel, because her cities had been ravaged and her future all but obliterated.

Decades passed and the Hebrew people struggled to maintain their faith while living in a foreign land.  And then one day, the prophet Isaiah, spoke the words we read in this morning’s passage.  It’s likely that most of those who had originally been taken from the promised land had already died.  Some who had been children as the ordeal began were now in their old age, but most were the grandchildren and great-grandchildren of those who had been originally captured. 
The stories of faith had been passed down to them, but some had begun to disregard the commandments and had given up on God because it seemed apparent that God had given up on them.

Then, as we read two weeks ago, when all seemed hopeless, Isaiah told the people that God was about to do something new.  A great door was about to swing open that would give them the chance to return to the promised land where they could rebuild their cities and rebuild their lives.

Today’s passage advances the story further.  It begins with the prophet identifying himself with the nation of Israel and speaking on its behalf.  First, Isaiah cries out in despair as he acknowledges the desperate plight of the people and how they have nearly given up hope of ever returning home.  But, then, he changes his tone and seeks to assure the people that God has not forgotten them.  Isaiah says that although it appears as if they have been overlooked - perhaps even discarded - they are actually more like an arrow that has been tucked away in a quiver for future use.  Isaiah declares that God is planning to pull this arrow out of its case and fire it at the target.  The people must have been inspired to hear that not only had God not given up on them, but in fact, God intended to use them for a vital mission.

However, when Isaiah spelled out the details of the mission, they must have been stunned.  They would not be an arrow fired into the heart of their captors to vanquish their foe.  Rather, they were to become a positive witness to the very people who had conquered them; to the people who had destroyed their holy temple and who had dragged them into exile.  Through the prophet, God says, “It is not enough to revive and restore the people of Israel.  I have much grander plans.  You are to become a light to the Babylonians and to all the nations of the world, that my salvation may reach the ends of the earth.”  All races, all tribes, all people fall within God’s providential care.

While this message was directed to Hebrews who had been taken captive 26 centuries ago, the mission is intended for Jews of all times by virtue of God’s calling them to be the chosen people.  As spiritual ancestors of the Jews, and by virtue of our commitment to following Christ, we too, have inherited this mission.

But what a challenge!  God says that we are to be a light to our friends and our allies, and also to our enemies.  God expects us to be a light to those people who are on the other side of the barriers we erect.

At the end of World War II, when the allies liberated Ravensbruck, a Nazi death camp where 92,000 women and children perished, a soldier found this prayer scribbled on a piece of wrapping paper near the body of a dead child:

O Lord, remember not only the men and women of goodwill, but also those of ill will.  But do not only remember the suffering they have inflicted on us, remember the gifts we received thanks to this suffering - our comradeship, our loyalty, our humility, the courage, the generosity, the greatness of heart which has grown out of all this.  And when they come to judgment let the fruits that we have borne be their forgiveness.(1)

I wonder if such a voice was muttered among the Jews of the Babylonian captivity.  The prophet might have been inclined to say, “Death to those who hold us in bondage!  You will pay for this one day!”  But instead, he is inspired by God to say to his captive brothers and sisters: “You are to be a light to the nations, so that God’s salvation may reach the ends of the earth.”

A colleague (Joanna Adams) tells of watching television on the day following the terrorist attacks of September 11th.  Across the bottom of the screen, the local station was running a streamer that announced the various government offices that would be closed the following day.  She was struck by one announcement that read: “Arguments canceled today and tomorrow.”  Of course it referred to the courts of law, but wouldn’t that be a marvelous edict for all of us to live by? “Arguments canceled today and tomorrow.”

Theologian John Westerhoff tells of a conference he once led.  It was held in Northern Ireland, and it brought together Roman Catholics and Protestants.  Clergy and lay leaders from both groups came together to discuss theological issues and children from both communities were invited to join in a time of shared recreation.  The hope was that people who spent time working and playing together might begin to let go of their fears and suspicions of one another.

However, despite all of the good intentions of the conference planners, the week was filled with tension.  Each day, Westerhoff would begin by telling a Bible story about reconciliation.  However, as each day’s events wore on, antipathy and mis-communication continued to be far more common than mutuality and understanding.  He grew increasingly discouraged.

Then, on the final morning, a Roman Catholic monk sat on the floor with all of the children during the morning Bible story session.  The passage happened to be the one of the hemorrhaging woman who touched the hem of Jesus’ garment and was healed. After telling the story, a couple of little girls started whispering to one another.  The monk turned to them and asked, “What is it?”

A young Protestant girl, looking at the monk’s strange garments, asked: “Can I touch you?”

“Of course,” the monk replied. 

“But I’m scared,” she answered.  The monk looked puzzled, so she continued: “I’m scared because if my father knew I touched you, he might beat me.”

The monk thought about it for a moment, and then suggested that possibly her father would not have to know about it.  The little girl pondered this for a few seconds.  Then, gathering her courage she walked over to him, reached out her finger and touched him. 

The little girl looked at her finger; then she looked back at the monk and exclaimed,  “Nothing happened!”

To which the monk replied, “Oh yes, something happened. You and I will never see the world the same again.”(2)

Passages such as this one from Isaiah, remind us that God has given us a vital mission.  God commands us to tear down the walls of fear and mistrust,and to rearrange our world.  Peoples’ differences are not erased, but our differences no longer prompt us to become judgmental, prejudicial, and xenophobic.  The differences of language, culture, race or religion are no longer something for us to combat, but rather something about God’s creation to relish. 
The things that separate us from others are not as significant as the tie that binds us together - all of us, ALL OF US, are children of God.  And all who follow Christ are to be the light and love of God to everyone we meet.

NOTES

1. Joanna Adams, “Our Refuge and Strength,” preached September 16, 2001, at Trinity Presbyterian Church in Atlanta.
   
   
2. Mary Louise Bringle, “Pastoral Implications,” in Lectionary Homiletics, January, 2002, p.24.

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