Life is one long continuous blur ...

Last Sunday it was my privilege to give the talk at the 1100 service. I didn't feel I did a very good job, and had decided to let the talk fall to the dust and vanish away; however some people were very sweet about it so I thought perhaps I should publish it here. Especially as life is indeed one long continuous blur right now; hard to find time to compose a decent post otherwise!
W

HTC 1100, 28^th November 2010

Isaiah 2:1-5 (also Matthew 24:36-44)

Today we have had two passages from the Bible, and neither of them are quite what one might expect. Our Gospel passage is frankly disturbing. Our Lord is speaking of difficult times to come. The best scholars tell me that he is warning of judgement; judgement on Jerusalem the City of God, but also more generally of judgment on societies which build social, financial, and religious systems but are not centred on justice and truth (Matthew 24:3: remember James Hill's sermon of a fortnight ago, and “not one stone will be left on another”). Our Old Testament passage, on the other hand, paints a visionary picture of peace and fulfilment – but when we look at the context we'll discover that passage too is surrounded by ominous warnings.

One might prefer an easier time this Sunday morning! But for myself I think I need from time to time to pay attention to the Bible's hard sayings. I need to be confronted with judgement and the holiness of God, or else I'll forget how wonderful His love is for me. I need to listen when the Bible tells me difficult things; I need to be made more sensitive to the questions that really matter: What are we really all about? What is the point of our story? Who are we actually meant to be?

Most days of my life, I get through the hours without ever once asking myself that sort of thing. It can be a frantic business, trying to earn one's daily bread. The weeks speed past like a smooth blur, September merging into October, October sliding into November, and here we are teetering on the brink of December already, with just 24 shopping days left to Christmas – or 28 if circumstances force you to go shopping on Sundays.

Church can be like that too. There's always another demanding detail to consider; Darkness into Light, will we have enough candles to go round? Nine lessons and Carols; have we fixed up the wardening duties properly? and will the choir kids manage not to lose their money when they go speeding round the church in a state of high excitement after Midnight Communion? Plus the ongoing saga of keeping a medieval building watertight and ship-shape, and the ever-varied and always fascinating soap opera of a community learning to get along with each other.

But What are we really all about? What is the point of our story? Who are we actually meant to be?

Without apology, I'm going to focus on our Old Testament passage – this is not a choice to avoid the difficult Gospel reading, but a reckoning that when Jesus spoke His words He was consciously standing in the tradition of Isaiah and the other prophets, and sometimes the best way to hear His word to us is to work backwards to the prophets who spoke before Him, whom He loved, and who therefore mean much to us as well, and who help us to understand Jesus better.

So then, Isaiah. Isaiah offers an answer to our questions in a wonderful vision, with phrases that have burnt their way into our language: swords into plowshares, nation shall not take up sword against nation. It has inspired music and poetry and all kinds of art. It was a beautiful vision when Isaiah declared it, and it still strikes chords with us today. Still we cry for “Peace on Earth”. Still we long for a time when nations will stream to the Lord's temple.

Today is the first Sunday of Advent, a time to touch base again with this vision, a time when once more we should ask the important questions of life: What are we really all about? What is the point of our story? Who are we actually meant to be?

So let us take a little time this morning to think about the situation when this dream was first declared. If we can get some kind of sense of the context in which Isaiah spoke, then maybe it will help us to allow this vision to make contact with us here and now, to permit this vision to act as a kindly compass, pointing out directions in which we may need to move.

Look for example at the chapter immediately before our chosen passage. It's a surprising contrast. Isaiah speaks the word of the Lord to the Lord's people, and it is a scalding word as if from a parent to rebellious children, a word to a people who “do not understand” (Isaiah 1:3). It speaks to a people who are in deep conflict with their own natures, a people for whom “there is no soundness – only wounds and welts” (Isaiah 1:6). Their wonderful city has been reduced by cruel invasion after cruel invasion, to little better than a ramshackle shack on an allotment (Isaiah 1:8) – do you see the echoes of Matthew 24:3 here? Worse, their attempts to relate religiously are described as meaningless to God, even offensive (Isaiah 1:10 onwards). I have to say that I find this an extraordinary feature of the whole Bible – I'd have assumed that God would, well, you know, be more on the side of religious practice and church establishment, but here his prophet Isaiah represents God as being achingly bored by all the religious festivals and ceremonies (Isaiah 1:13-14). Isaiah says, God is far more interested in the detailed practice of justice and the careful protection of the weak (Isaiah 1:17). Yet another thread that we see Jesus pick up in the Gospels.

We could go on, but I'm sure you get the general idea. Our passage from Isaiah is not set in the middle of a tranquil religious idyll of peace, harmony and prosperity. Look at the rest of chapter 2 and you get the same story. Isaiah was not proclaiming the Word of the Lord at a time of political security and safety. We might be dealing today with the effects of a credit crisis, and learning to live with the traumatic results of a failure of financial trust; but Isaiah's prophecies speak of the appalling effects of a judgement on Jerusalem that has people fleeing in terror to hide in the barren rocks, using poetry that has since echoed through the world in a hundred spirituals that tell us there is nowhere to run to, nowhere to hide from God's judgement (Isaiah 2:10). We may think that Isaiah seems to be talking about a dream far beyond belief, but this dream grew out of a time of turmoil and danger and fear.

So, having noticed the context, what's the thrust of the passage? What can we take away from it for our own lives? How does it help us to answer our questions: What are we really all about? What is the point of our story? Who are we actually meant to be?

1: God's truth for all humanity

In all of these troubles, in all of these dangers, Isaiah says we should lift up our eyes to look with hope to a time when things will be very different. The mountain of the Lord's temple will be established high above all else, and all peoples will stream towards it (Isaiah 2:2). Now I don't think Isaiah meant that there would be a kind of religious boom or bonanza – probably not, given the rude things said about organized religion in the first chapter! It seems to me, he was talking about a time to come when God's truth would be made plain, when it would no longer be just the possession of a tight little ethnic group, but would be the liberating truth for all peoples of whatever language or culture.

2: God's justice for all humanity

Isaiah goes on to assert, there is going to come a time when disputes and disagreements are going to be resolved, not by raw power, nor in favour of the people who know all the legal tricks, nor in favour of the people who are rich enough to buy the law for themselves, but by the word, the truth, the authority of the Lord of the Universe (Isaiah 2:4a). There will come a time when your voice will be heard by the Lord, no matter how powerless you are, and it won't any more be too difficult to explain what you mean because at your side will be the Lamb who was slain and who now lives.

3: God's peace for all humanity

Our passage was written in a time when violence between small states was a routine way of settling disputes, and when huge empires were reaching ruthlessly out across the land to engulf countless peoples. Everyone would have known of the burden of spending money on swords and armour which would be useless for the practical purposes of gathering in the harvest, the waste of sending off their strong young men to train for war when they were so badly needed on the farm back home. And Isaiah declares, there is going to be a time when we don't have to do that any more; when our lives can be set free from the insecurity and fear and sheer waste of conflict (Isaiah 2:4b).

What about now?

So what does this say about how we should now live? How does this passage help us to answer our questions: what are we really all about? What is the point of our story? Who are we actually meant to be?

The first thing is to recognize that in extraordinary ways, and above all in the saving life and work of our Lord Jesus Christ, we can see Isaiah's vision already now struggling to come true, new life bursting forth. No, we don't yet see all nations streaming towards God's truth; justice is sadly still often a matter of whether you have deep pockets to pay the bill; and we know only too well that by no means are we yet free from the curse and oppression of armed struggle. But, as James so helpfully set out for us two weeks ago, we now do have a Truth to set all peoples free; a temple which is not made from stones but is to be found in the resurrected body of Jesus Christ; a Messiah who is drawing all kinds, all languages, all cultures to Him. As David reminded us last week, our Gospel is a wide-open Gospel, one which reaches out to rescue even those who have reached the end of themselves and who feel they are hopelessly lost. On His cross Jesus Christ promised eternal life to a hopeless criminal facing a richly deserved doom (Luke 23:40-43); the same Jesus Christ offers you grace and a new start, no matter how much you think you deserve anger rather than love. We have learned from Jesus a new language which says (for example); I, Wilfrid Kendall, a white Caucasian male, am to consider myself the brother of all who call on the name of the Lord. And look at us all here today! Drawn here this Sunday morning from many different continents, many different cultures!

Today is Advent time, whether now in late November or in any month of the year; God's Kingdom is here in Jesus Christ and the body of all His disciples, even though it is not yet what it will become, even though it has so far yet to travel. We know there is much that is wrong with our own society; and yet we prosper in and enjoy a society which has been deeply and profoundly influenced by the Christian gospel of brotherhood and love and service. We know we aren't yet guaranteed the freedom from war of Isaiah's prophecy; indeed our Gospel passage includes stark warnings from our Master of just how difficult things might become before the long-awaited arrival of the Son of Man; and yet we do see the promise of nations talking and discussing, rather than invariably resorting to brutal wars.

So the first thing is to recognize that in extraordinary ways, and above all in the saving life and work of our Lord Jesus Christ, we can see Isaiah's vision already now struggling to come true.

And the second thing is to recognize that in all this we are called to live as people of the Way, as travellers with our Lord Jesus Christ at our side. What are we really all about? Travellers on the way which God has set before us. What is the point of our story? We travel towards the light of the Lord. Who are we actually meant to be? The Body of Christ, planted here in all the routine of our daily lives, by our service and commitment and love to be living witnesses to the living Truth. What can I do to practice that over the next week? Perhaps, to resolve that each time I meet someone this week then I should remind myself that I am meeting someone who is of enormous value to the Lord of the Universe. Perhaps, to aim to remind myself at a set time once a day that I have been chosen by this Lord of all for a particular purpose, and that His purpose for me is right at hand in the present situation of my life, no matter how unlikely that may seem. Perhaps, to remind myself that I am called to a journey by the One who is just and who favours the weak and powerless, and therefore that it is proper for my behaviour to mirror His.

In extraordinary ways, and above all in the saving life and work of our Lord Jesus Christ, we can see Isaiah's vision already now struggling to come true.

And in all this we are called to live as people of the Way, as travellers with our Lord Jesus Christ at our side.

As Isaiah urges at the passage's end: “Come, … let us walk in the light of the Lord” (Isaiah 2:5).

Amen