We’re Waiting for What?

On a high mountain go up, O herald of Zion. Raise your voice mightily, raise it, do not fear. Say to the towns of Judah: here is your God [Isaiah 40:9, The Hebrew Bible, tr. by Alter]

November 22nd marked the sixth anniversary of our Father’s death. He was 91 years old when he died. Married to our Mother for almost 72 years, he enjoyed excellent health for most of his life. For his final five years, however, he lived in exile. That is to say that–because of advanced dementia–although he “resided” in Durham, he felt as if he had been taken to a far-off land that he didn’t recognize and that he could not understand.

During those last five years, two matters seemed constantly on his diminishing mind. One was a statement: “I want to go home.” The other was a question that he asked more than a dozen times each day: “Where’s Betty?” Residing as an exile in a strange, far away world, he tended to reach out for the only constancy in that world–our Mother, who was his constant companion and caregiver until about six months before his passing. Even then, she rented an apartment across the street in order that she could “tend to him the way he liked to have things done.”

Our Dad’s final years have given me a new sense of appreciation for the predicament faced by King Jehoiachin and his family when, in 597 B.C., Jerusalem was overrun in war, and they and others were taken into captivity in the first Babylonian deportation of exiles [see II Kings 24:1-7]. Then, ten years later, Judah was again locked in battle with the Babylonians. This time, Jerusalem was destroyed, the Temple pulled down, the Davidic family removed from the Jewish throne, and additional Judeans were deported to Babylon.

In Isaiah chapters 1 through 39–often referred to by scholars as “First Isaiah,” the prophet had warned those in Israel, the northern kingdom, and in Judah, the southern kingdom, that their ways were not consistent with their Lord’s. As early as Isaiah 5, the Old Testament reading for the Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost, Year A (about eight weeks ago), Yahweh had warned the people, through the voice of the prophet, that the carefully maintained “vineyard” that he had planted for them would come down because of their refusal to care for the poor, the widow, the orphan, and the stranger.

As those who’d been carried off to exile worked as slaves in Babylon, they came to understand that, just as Isaiah had foretold more than 100 years earlier, Yahweh had used the Babylonians to tear down their sinful society. Those in exile came to understand just how angry they had made Yahweh. They also understood how deep had been their sin. And so, their minds began to concentrate on two issues. Like our Father’s, the first was a statement: “They longed to go home.” The second was a question: “Where is Yahweh?”

Indeed, they wondered, “Had Yahweh abandoned the created order? Were the promises offered to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob still valid? Would the promised Messiah from the lineage of David come to save the people and establish a world of justice and peace? Or had Yahweh forgotten them in their plight? Would they ever have relationship with Yahweh again?”

Alas, each day they awoke in Babylon. Some lived out their days in servitude, dying there. Others who had never seen Jerusalem were born and enslaved there. No matter what their age, however, the undercurrent of conversation was always two-fold: “When can we go home?”–“Where is Yahweh?”

If one were to read the lengthy book of Isaiah straight through, one would note an abrupt change in tenor at chapter 40. Gone is the condemnation and prophetic wrath. In its place is soothing poetry. The change in tone and language is so abrupt, so different from the 39 preceding chapters, that many scholars attribute chapters 40-66 to a different author, sometimes referred to as “Second Isaiah.” Because of several historical statements made in these later chapters, it appears that they were written more than 100 years after those of “First Isaiah.”

No matter what the construction of the prophetic book, the point to be made is that the message to the people beginning with Isaiah 40 is new and different. Just as Yahweh had used an earthly group–the Babylonians–to work Yahweh’s will at the time of the deportation, tearing down Yahweh’s “vineyard,” so Yahweh would use another earthly group–the Persians–to restore both Israel and Judah to the land that had been promised to them.

We see the opening verses of Chapter 40–“Comfort, O comfort My people, says your God” [40:1]. Perhaps like me, you quickly think of Handel. Indeed, the first three arias and the first chorus to Handel’s Messiah are taken from Isaiah 40:1-11 [the OT reading for the Second Sunday of Advent, RCL, Year B]. In these verses from Chapter 40, we see nothing less than a complete reversal of fortune.

The distance between Yahweh and the people is not ignored; it is to be spoken about directly. The prophet points out that the people sinned, yet Yahweh was always true to His word. Humanity is fragile–like grass blown by Yahweh’s wind–but Yahweh is strong and eternal. Yet, in spite of the chasm that exists between Yahweh and His people, the prophet offers other soothing words: their sin is forgiven, their sentence is completed [40:2]. Therefore, they receive a favorable answer to their first concern: they will be allowed to go home.

As to their question–“Where is Yahweh?”–they hear one of the most beautiful metaphors in the Old Testament. The prophet tells them that Yahweh is indeed omnipotent, permanent, strong in the image of a great warrior king. Indeed, Yahweh stands in strength, with his arm stretched out ready to do battle [40:10]. Yet, behold! Yahweh does not do battle against His chosen ones. Instead:

Like a shepherd He minds His flock, in His arm He gathers lambs, and in his lap He bears them, leads the ewes (i.e. mother sheep) [Isaiah 40:11].

Isaiah 40, therefore, provides not only a favorable response to their first concern–can they return home?–the prophet (through Yahweh) provides them with the answer to their second concern: “Where is Yahweh?”

That answer: Yahweh is already here. In fact, Yahweh was always here. Yahweh tells the prophet:

On a high mountain go up, O herald of Zion. Raise your voice mightily, raise it, do not fear. Say to the towns of Judah: here is your God [Isaiah 40:9]

I’m sure most of you join me in feeling at least a little “exiled” during the pandemic. The loss of a friend just this past weekend to the virus, joined with the losses you may have experienced, is enough to make one wonder–at least in a moment of sadness–“Where is Yahweh in all of this?” Listen, dear friends, Isaiah has a word for us.

What was true so long ago is, of course, true still today. While we have assumed a posture of waiting during Advent–waiting for the coming of the Christ child in a world seemingly dominated by chaos–we know in our hearts that what Isaiah proclaimed so long ago is still true: “Here is your God.” Our Lord isn’t trapped in some thrown-together manger scene that is erected each year, then taken down. Our Lord, the Good Shepherd, isn’t confined to an ancient town called Bethlehem. Nor does He only reside at some remote point in the future, along with a nebulous promise to return in judgment. He lives today! That is not only the message of Easter; it’s the message during Advent.

And so, while we wait, we must serve the Lord by serving our neighbor. That includes the widow, the orphan, the frail, the unborn, the stranger. Isaiah speaks as clearly to you and me as he did to those in Judah more than 2,500 years ago: “Here is your God.”

He’s here! Right now! What are we waiting for?