Fifth Sunday After the Epiphany (B) — Isaiah 40:21–31
Bethany and Faith Lutheran Churches, Reading, PA
In its way, this has been a scary week, though at least I have been spared from the snow. For those of you who don’t know, last Sunday [at Faith], someone became very ill and had to be taken to the hospital. Although his issue was unrelated, they always do a Covid Test these days, and he tested positive. We’d had a possible exposure at a “mass gathering,” (only 10 people were present), and had to quarantine. Me especially, since I was with him when he lost consciousness and bashed his head on the bathroom sink, and so I was the one who picked him up off the floor, and that means I had physical contact and was likely to get sick.
I haven’t gotten sick–so far, so good, anyway. But that’s a surprising outcome, and early in the week I was faced with the very real possibility that I could become sick and even die. If I’m honest, that didn’t frighten me so much, though I did feel clearly that I’d much prefer to stay alive for a while yet. Much more frightening was the experience of calling the name of someone I care about and not seeing them respond, of grabbing them with my hands and looking at their glazed over eyes and hearing them ask why they’re on the floor.
It’s got me thinking about fear and worry. I don’t spend a lot of time afraid or worried in my life. I’m kind of easy-going, letting things worry about themselves, knowing that even if everything goes wrong, somehow everything will still be okay. But there have been moments. I remember once when I was a teenager, being home alone after a half-day of school. We lived in a wide open place, and the wind could sometimes be pretty strong. That day, it was bad enough that it rattled the back door of the kitchen. Not long earlier, we’d had someone break into the house and steal a few things, and though it was the middle of the day, I couldn’t get the feeling out of my head that someone was there. It wasn’t my usual way of being, but that day, I was terrified to be there, alone.
Chapter forty of Isaiah is written at the lowest point in Israel’s history. After decades of fear that stronger nations would send their armies to destroy Israel, after decades of expensive and oppressive taxes spent paying tribute to keep themselves safe, finally Israel found itself the target of death and destruction. The city of Jerusalem was burned and destroyed. Those who survived among the wealthy and elite were taken away from their homes and made to live in a foreign land. The ones who were left behind in the land struggled in poverty, never knowing if they would live to see each new day. There was no hope; only despair. There was no life; only death.
Two centuries earlier, a prophet named Isaiah said all this would happen. The reason was simple: The king and people of Israel had turned their back on God. So when danger arrived at their door, God would remind them that they couldn’t get out of danger on their own. God would let them succumb to the foreign threat. They’d remember that they needed God.
That’s a bleak way of thinking about our relationship with God—one that is common in the Bible, but that I don’t like to think about much. The God I know isn’t one who gets angry and punishes, who teaches with painful lessons that involve violence and bloodshed. This view of God only works when it’s balanced with a passage like today’s.
Another prophet, called by God to look at the despairing Israelites far from their home, spoke in the name of the old one, continuing his message. For him, the truth was obvious. Have you not known? Have you not heard? Isn’t it what God has told you from the very beginning? God is all-powerful. Everything in all creation was made by his hand, and everything is still held in his hand. If he can create, he can also destroy. That is what old Isaiah said.
And so new Isaiah says, therefore, if he can destroy, he can also create. Isaiah tells his fellow Israelites that while it looks like God has gotten tired, fallen asleep, forgotten his people, this cannot happen. Yes, even young, strong people in the prime of their life will eventually wear themselves out and become exhausted. But God does not. God is strength is unwavering. God is always mighty in power.
And because we are God’s people, he says, God will gladly lend us some of that power. Those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength. They will soar like eagles. They shall never become exhausted, never wear out. They will be able to rely on their faith.
I was terrified to be at home, alone, that day, so God reminded me I wasn’t alone. Usually I’d call the next-door neighbor, Venus, and hang out over there, but they weren’t around that day. For some reason I reached for the church directory and called a family nearby. They were home, and they brought me to their house for the rest of the day. They had a daughter in my age bracket, but I wasn’t a very sociable kid at the time; I was embarrassed to be there, and she was embarrassed to have me, but her parents brought out the croquet set and we made do just fine. Thinking back, it’s a surprise to me that I turned to my church for help. But it’s also rather obvious.
Each of us carry different levels of worry, according to our personalities and needs. Some of us take it too far, and are afraid of much more than we should be. Others are unhealthy in their laxity, and should be rather more careful than we are.But in truth, while God gives us the gift of a healthy sort of worry in order to keep us safe, things really can worry about themselves. We can trust that even if everything goes wrong, somehow everything will still be okay. Because while we cannot be in control of everything in our lives, we can certainly trust that God is powerful.
He may not always direct and shape the world in ways we’d like. But he will certainly give us the strength to endure the challenges we face. The big ones, like widespread disease, or destruction, or death. The small ones, like the vicissitudes of teenage social life, or the rattling of the wind against the door. We know that God will renew our strength. He will lift us up to soar like eagles. He will send us running and we will never get weary. In the walk of our life, God assures that we need never become faint. Amen.