Sunday, November 13, 2016

Premeditated Grace (Sermon)


“Premeditated Grace”
                                             Isaiah 65:17-25
Allen Huff
Jonesborough Presbyterian Church
11/13/16

         Most of Isaiah’s audience knows nothing but exile. For those Hebrews born and raised in Babylon, distinguishing between exile life and “normal” life is probably splitting hairs because Babylonians manage to be relatively progressive captors. After vanquishing and dispersing their enemies with a heavy hand, the Babylonians offer the vanquished at least the chance for a semblance of autonomy. Instead of treating the Hebrews like Pharaoh did in Egypt, or like our white ancestors treated slaves in the old South, and African-Americans in the new South, the Babylonians allow the Hebrews to practice their native religion and, to some extent, flourish economically and culturally. Such treatment both increases the benefit and diminishes the threat of keeping a conquered people around.
         So their stories remain. Stories about Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Stories about another exile and an exodus. Stories about Moses, Joshua, Samuel, and David. Stories about Hebron and Jerusalem. These are stories about identity and redemption – and home. And in the pit of their collective stomach, the Hebrews know that Babylon is not home.
         Isaiah’s job in Babylon is to make the Hebrews homesick, to make them long for Israel. So God calls the prophet to plant seeds of both discontent and hope. Through Isaiah, God says to Israelite exiles, “I am about to create new heavens and a new earth.” And God will rejoice over and delight in this re-imagined creation, a place in which everyone has enough, and where no one “shall hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain.” The reference is to Mt. Zion. Jerusalem. Home. And remember, Israel represents more than herself. Being the specific people who represent God’s specific desire to be in relationship with all creation, Israel symbolizes all that God creates.
Given Israel’s current circumstances, the future proclaimed by Isaiah seems to lie beyond the realm of possibility. That’s why God says, “Before they call, I will answer.” The new thing God is doing will come as an act of unilateral, premeditated grace. Isaiah’s prophecy flies in the face of Solomon’s much earlier, conditional prophecy that has been so hallowed and so hollowed by revivalists: “If my people…pray, [if they] seek my face, and [if they] turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear…forgive...and heal.” (2 Chronicles 7:14)
No, says Isaiah. By definition, grace is unconditional. No ifs. God is already committing all that God is to redeeming Israel. God is filling out, signing, and turning in a pledge card on behalf of the creation.
In Babylon, things could be worse for Israel. But they’re still in exile. Surely, Isaiah’s beautiful day prophecy meets some sharp skepticism.
Since early last Wednesday morning, some of us feel exhilarated and hopeful. Others of us feel shattered and anxious. The truth is, had the national election gone differently, things would have been pretty much the same, just in reverse. We were not going to escape this brokenness. Either way, some of us were going to feel victorious and purposed, and in here, Isaiah’s words would feel descriptive of our experience. And some of us were going to feel exiled and apprehensive, making Isaiah’s prophecy feel rather empty.
Regardless of how we feel about the world right now, Isaiah challenges us to find our place in God’s vision. And God’s vision of grace – whether articulated in the words of Isaiah, or in the promise after the flood, or in the prayers of David, or in the life of Jesus, or in the groanings of all creation as we await our “adoption” and “redemption” – God’s vision declares a creation of shalom, a creation of peace, wholeness, and well-being for all. In God’s vision, you and I are aware of, in love with, and eager to celebrate God’s grace by choosing, each and every day, to live in harmony with our neighbors and the earth around us.
Like you, I’m hearing repeated calls to “unity” right now. That’s good. I’m all for unity. And it seems to me that the unity that matters, the unity that lasts comes not when we simply lay aside critical differences and try to make nice. The unity that matters and lasts comes when we take up our passion for God’s vision. The unity that matters and lasts is the gift of solidarity with those who suffer, those who have no voice, those who are marginalized and threatened by power.
In his first sermon, Jesus reads from Isaiah, the prophet to exiles. “‘The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.’” Then Jesus says, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” (Luke 4:18-19, 21)
        The Gospel reveals that God’s vision eclipses any one town and any one nation. It transcends any one generation or religious tradition. It transcends our own species itself. According to Isaiah, God envisions a renewed Universe. So, smugness in victory and despair in defeat both lead to the same denial of this vision, because it is in process “Today.”
When committing ourselves to the work of a particular church, we commit ourselves to participating in God’s ongoing work of redeeming the world and re-creating it as a place in which God’s Shalom defines us and guides us.
I will be honest with you. Between the events of the last eighteen months and the events of last four days, I’m one of those who feels acutely anxious right now. And I won’t pretend to feel otherwise. Now, I’m no archetype of virtue, but my response to what I feel in my gut is to pledge myself to living as a more visible example of what I believe God’s vision in Isaiah calls me to do, and what God’s presence in Jesus empowers me to be. While Marianne and I will increase our financial pledge, I will increase the energy I commit to participating more boldly in God’s Love, and in advocacy for things I consider consistent with following Jesus in this world.
When you fill out your pledge form to support the mission of Jonesborough Presbyterian Church, I challenge you to look again at Isaiah 65. Remember, too, the Beatitudes and the rest of Jesus’ revolutionary Sermon on the Mount in Matthew. I challenge us all to commit ourselves to God’s vision for a whole and holy creation. When that vision is hard to see or imagine, perhaps our decisions and actions are masking God’s vision. Maybe we even impede it for a time by choosing to commit ourselves to things that run contrary to God’s call to us in Christ. In the end, however, as Rob Bell says, “Love Wins.” Love is our home.
Jonesborough Presbyterian needs your financial commitments to fulfill its own commitments and calling. So on behalf of the Session, I ask you to give generously.
I also ask you to consider deepening your personal Christian service in the coming year. The relational, hands-on mission to which God calls us is more important than ever. Writing to the Colossians, Paul reminds us that the success of our collective witness depends on how gratefully and fearlessly we, “As God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, clothe [ourselves] with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience…[and how we] bear with one another and…forgive each other.” (Colossians 3:12-13)
This morning we consecrate far more than money. We consecrate ourselves.

No comments:

Post a Comment