Expectations, Experiences, and Memories (12/11/11)

Advent 3B – Isaiah 61:1-4, 7-11

All of us live within and through our experiences and memories.  Both our present experiences and our past ones — those we call “memories” — help to shape and mold us.  Our lives are a reflection of what we have lived through.  Sometimes, we realize that our past experiences have impacted us negatively, and so we work to overcome those experiences.  But one way or the other, we are impacted.

The words I just read from Third Isaiah may be ones that resonate within you; somewhere in your memory, you recall having heard them before.  According to Luke, the opening words from this passage in Isaiah were the same words that Jesus read in the synagogue in Nazareth[1]as a way of introducing his ministry to his hometown.  It’s highly probable that these words helped to shape Jesus.

But we’re not talking about Jesus today so much as Isaiah — in this case, Third-Isaiah.  The author of Third Isaiah is unknown to us yet we do know that he completed the collection of writings known as the Book of Isaiah.  There were actually three authors of this book.[2]  First Isaiah wrote to the Israelites before the exile.  Second Isaiah wrote during the exile — and from within it — and third Isaiah wrote to the following generation — those back in Israel — when the cold reality of failed expectations took hold.

When Cyrus defeated the Babylonians, he decreed that the exiles should return to their homeland and rebuild their city and their temple.  The mourning in Zion that we heard about in today’s text was not the initial shock and horror of the destruction of Jerusalem and the temple.  This mourning arose from the frustration and humiliation over the failure to rebuild the city and the temple to match its former glory and the failure to reconcile the economic disparities and the religious and political factions within the city.  The reality of life in Jerusalem was nothing like the expectations for a restored Jerusalem; it fell far short of the righteous community proclaimed by the prophets and envisioned by the returnees.

Everything that remained was a shadow of what once was.  If you’ve ever seen the ruins of an old church or monastery — with only a few walls remaining — you might have an inkling of the feelings that sent so many into utter despair.  Something that was once complete and holy had been desecrated and thrown down.  The holiness of life that was exemplified by the community that once existed was gone.  All that remained was devastation……and memories.

Oftentimes, when we get lost in memories, we remember things a bit “differently.”  In the recesses of our minds, life “back then” can seem so much better than it really was.  We embellish, we tweak the details, and all of a sudden, our memories evolve into something quite different than what actually occurred.  Remember how it was “back then?”

Can it be that it was all so simple then
Or has time rewritten every line
If we had the chance to do it all again
Tell me – Would we? Could we?

Memories
May be beautiful and yet
What’s too painful to remember
We simply choose to forget… 

Do we choose to forget?  Can we?  It seems to me that the people left behind in Israel when the affluent and powerful of their society were carted off to captivity in Babylon would have liked to forget.  All around them was nothing but devastation; everything that was near and dear to them, including their Temple, was destroyed.  They were left behind to face the destruction each and every day, while those with influence lived new lives in Babylon.

On the one hand, it must have been horrible for those who were carted off from their homeland to be separated from everything they knew and loved.  On the other hand, because they were the crème de la crème of Israel’s society, their lives in Babylon weren’t all that bad.  Some even chose not to return when they had the chance.  But what about those who were left behind?  What about those who couldn’t forget, even if they wanted to?  They hoped for better days, for the days when those who had been taken to Babylon would return and re-build.  But rather than re-building the city and the Temple, those who returned set about re-building their fortunes.  They used their status and power to influence the government for their own benefit.  They issued loans to those less fortunate and when those poor souls couldn’t pay, they not only lost their land, they often lost their freedom.[3]

To say it was a bleak situation is to minimize the problem.  And if you’re thinking it sounds a bit similar to what’s happening in today’s world, you just might be right.  Power — then and now — can be an extremely corrupting influence.

Into this bleak situation stepped Third Isaiah.  As to whether he was God’s “anointed one,” scholars are divided:  some think it was an individual — either the prophet or Cyrus — while others think it was the nation, Israel as a whole.  Whoever it was, that “anointed one” was called to provide comfort to those in despair and in so doing, change the way people saw themselves, the way they were regarded by others and the ways they acted.  Instead of ashes — symbols of humiliation and grief — they would be dressed in garlands and jewels.  To replace their dull spirits, they would be given mantles of praise.  And rather than being treated as the humiliated, fragmented, dispirited and exploited people they currently were, THEY would accomplish what was needed and what had been too difficult: rebuilding Jerusalem — Zion — as a city where righteousness and justice flourish.  In short, Isaiah assured the oppressed that THEY would be the re-builders.

The question is:  did Isaiah “get it right?”  He wanted to be optimistic, to offer the people a word of hope, and so he proclaimed the year of God’s favor, what the people recalled from memory:  “a year of Jubilee.”[4]

“Proclaiming liberty to the captives and release to the prisoners” weren’t pretty words.  They didn’t refer to criminal prisoners but to poor people who had been enslaved for their inability to make payments on outlandish debts.  Jubilee — which was initially designed to occur once every 50 years — provided for the cancellation of debts, return of slaves and property stolen or acquired immorally and a return to the world that God originally intended at the time of creation.  By restoring what was lost — or TAKEN over the course of time — lives could be restored and equity would be the rule.  There’s only one problem:  while Jubilee is mentioned throughout the Bible, it never happened.  It lived in memory only, a recollection from earlier in history, something the oppressed HOPED would happen.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out WHY Jubilee never happened:  those who amassed vast fortunes at the expense of others were simply NOT going to return their fortunes.  It might sound good to those who are poor — it might even momentarily give them hope — but it’s not going to happen.  In today’s world, many of our lawmakers won’t even concede that the wealthiest people should bear an additional tax burden — and most of these lawmakers PROFESS to be Christians!  Go figure.

So then, what can we say about Isaiah’s words?  No doubt he knew that God wanted to lift up those who were in despair, to give them hope.  Yet Isaiah’s words — his optimism, if you will — may have gone too far, not because he wasn’t well-intentioned but because his worldview blurred his vision and his image of God.  Remember the worldview of that time:  Good things happen to good people, bad things happen to bad people.  Underlying that worldview is the belief that God controls everything.  Based on that belief, God MUST have sent the people into captivity in Babylon and God MUST have, because of God’s graciousness, sent Cyrus to free them.  That was the ONLY logical explanation based on that worldview.  It was further presumed that IF the people now did the right thing, God would side with them once again, allowing them to restore that which once was.

Except it didn’t work that way and it still doesn’t.  It’s not that God doesn’t want it to happen; it’s just that God relies on humanity.  Whether it was way-back-when in Israel or whether it’s here and now in 2011, God relies on US.  I think that’s something Isaiah forgot — or maybe he never knew it.  For Isaiah, the behavior of the people of Israel impacted God’s behavior.  God bestowed goodness IF the people did good; if they misbehaved, God punished them.  So Isaiah tried to bolster the hopes of the people: God will support you, God has good news for you.  Display God’s glory and all will be well!

We can’t blame Isaiah for hoping.  After all, each of us — including Isaiah — “hears” God’s voice through the lens of our own experience — and through the memories of stories we’ve been taught — like the concept of Jubilee.  But worldviews often clash with reality and override our own experiences.  Worldviews are difficult to ignore — especially when they’re embedded in a culture.  Isaiah was influenced by the prevailing worldview and so he told the people:  IF you do the right things, IF you “display God’s glory,” all will be right with your world.

Did Isaiah really believe that?  Difficult to know.  What he appears to have believed, deep down, was that God was a God of transformation, a God willing to help people find new ways out of their calamities, a God willing to walk with them even through the disasters.  Where the logic of Isaiah — and other writers — may have faltered was that they believed God was responsible for everything — the horrible chaos of exile as well as the re-building of a nation.  They failed to understand that God would support humanity in the best of its endeavors — particularly when those endeavors aligned with God’s hope for the world.  The key word is SUPPORT.  God will SUPPORT us but will NOT force us to do anything.  Biblical stories underscore that while God always grieves for the hurting and broken of humanity, God created US to be the caretakers of the world.  It is OUR job to affect transformation; God cannot impose it on us.

During this past week, I met with my clergy colleagues several times.  We shared memories of Christmas moments we’ve treasured.  So many of those moments were times when love and compassion were glimpsed where we never expected it.  Yet there it was, breaking through, a light in the darkness here, another light in the darkness there.  Enough light that it left impressions on our hearts and in our memories.

There are always moments to celebrate, moments when joy seems almost palpable.  Many of us wish they happened more frequently.  But only WE can make them happen.  We are God’s hands and feet and lips in this broken and hurting world.  What part of this don’t we understand?  Do we keep waiting, waiting for God to act?  Yet God has already told us what OUR responsibilities are:  do justice, love kindness, walk humbly with God.[5]  Isaiah tells us not only what God likes, but what God doesn’t like:  I, your God, love justice, I hate robbery and wrongdoing.

WE call Jesus God’s messiah, God’s anointed one.  That’s what we believe.  If we know anything about him — and sometimes I truly wonder if any of us do — we KNOW what Jesus did throughout his ministry.  He TOLD us and SHOWED us.  Not unlike Isaiah, he wanted to bring hope and compassion to people who were hurting, discouraged and in chaos.  So there shouldn’t be any question of what we need to do.

So, what are we doing?   What actions of ours are memorable enough for someone else to want to share them — and maybe even follow suit?  Amen.

This sermon was written by the Rev. Janet Weiblen, Intentional Interim Minister at Weston Christian Church.  It can only be used with permission of the author.  revj@kc.rr.com.