A reed shaken by the wind

 Sermon for Advent III, 2022, delivered at St. Paul's Episcopal Church, Louisville KY.

 Text: Isaiah 35:1-10, Matthew 11:2-11

"The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad, the desert shall rejoice and blossom; like the crocus it shall blossom abundantly, and rejoice with joy and singing." That’s a wonderful image from the reading from Isaiah for this time of year, when the days are getting colder and shorter. When the leaves have fallen off of the tree, and the summer plants have died, it’s reassuring to hear this image of life, of things in the world being restored. It’s a comfort. But then all of a sudden in the reading there’s this word vengeance that pops up in the stanza, “Be strong, do not fear! Here is your God. He will come with vengeance, with terrible recompense. He will come and save you." It really sticks out, and makes me think that God is going to vindicate us, and save us from an undeserved fate. But what fate is that? We have to go back one chapter in Isaiah to read of destruction and violence in order to understand the goodness and salvation that Isaiah is referring to. Listen to some of what Isaiah wrote in chapter 34: "The Lord is enraged against all the nations and furious against all their hordes; he has doomed them, has given them over for slaughter." Isaiah goes on like this for the entire chapter in gory detail. Isaiah refers to this destruction when he writes all is not lost, the Lord will come and save us. We have to first understand what it is that we’re being saved from in order to appreciate where God is taking us, whether it is life or safety.

John the Predecessor, the Baptist, is well aware of what he and others are to be saved from: sin, and death, rather than destruction. But unlike the assurance found in Isaiah, John isn’t sure about where his salvation is coming from. He had been preaching about it saying that it was to come from the Messiah, someone greater than himself. But he’s in jail now with the wind knocked out of his sails, and he is spiritually drifting. So, he dares to ask the question, “Are you the one we’ve been waiting for? Or do we have to wait longer?” John is in doubt about who Jesus is because Jesus doesn’t look like the savior that everyone is searching for. He doesn’t have the entourage that everyone thought the Messiah would have; he isn’t standing up to the occupying Romans; he keeps talking to the religious authorities instead of asserting his own authority as the Son of God. Luke says that he was born in a barn, alone except for his parents and animals surrounding them. It’s understandable why John asks his question because things aren’t going the way he thought they would, or should. How can salvation come from someone who doesn’t act like they’re helping?

When God or Jesus doesn’t look like what we expect, we get anxious and afraid, and we miss that holy presence, even when we look right at it. Jesus responds to John’s followers, who have brought his question to Jesus, with a frustrating answer, one that makes it hard for them to see that holy presence before them. It is not a yes or no answer, but instead speaks to John’s own God-given authority. Within that recognition of authority that Jesus gives is the answer to the question that John was really asking: is my faith in the right person? Jesus says to have faith, believe in yourself as God sees you, and don’t base your faith on what has happened to you. Greater things are coming. I would imagine that this is not the greatest consolation for John, because he’s still in prison, still in the middle of his own disaster. The people whom Isaiah was addressing might have also felt the same way, thus the word “vengeance” that drives home the point that salvation is near when they are in the middle of their disaster. Jesus does something else, though. He points out John’s strengths and his accomplishments, and the importance of his ministry. All of those things point to a strong faith, one that John might not think he has because of his experience of his arrest and imprisonment. 

The people addressed by Isaiah, and by John, are on opposite sides of a traumatic event: the destruction of the nation of Israel before Isaiah wrote his words of encouragement, and John's imprisonment after his preaching of the coming of the messiah. The passages express sentiments on both sides of such an event: hope and renewal, confusion and anxiety. They all occur at the same time, and make it hard to understand why a tragedy has happened, why God would allow something like this to happen, and why me? Isaiah’s words come off as trite and dismissive by themselves, “Oh, don’t worry, everything will be wonderful again,” but Jesus reframes that with a realistic and supportive “Believe in yourself because greater things are coming, things you can’t imagine.” It’s the difference between being the victim of a disaster and seeing God at work in you and the people around you. It’s the difference between being rescued and reaching out for help.

A year ago yesterday, a series of tornadoes ripped through western Kentucky, destroying part of Mayfield, most of Dawson Springs, and a part of Bowling Green. 80 people in Kentucky were killed in that outbreak. The tornado will be as traumatic for them as the April 3rd, 1974 tornado was for Louisville. This was one of those catastrophic events similar to what Isaiah wrote about, with many personal stories of loss that went far beyond the loss of freedom that John experienced. No doubt, the people in the affected areas were asking anyone who passed by what John asked, "Are you my savior? Or do I wait for someone else?" They heard Isaiah's words on the lips of government officials when they said "Kentucky strong!" or "We will rebuild Dawson Springs!" And they doubted, because they were living on the edge of losing jobs, housing, and food before the tornadoes, and no one had come to their rescue then. They doubted because they were asking God, "Why us? Why me?" and there was no answer.

But thee people of Western Kentucky did hear Jesus' voice in the response of the Diocese of Kentucky, and from other Episcopal dioceses across the country. They heard it in the response of many other aid groups and volunteers. They heard "Believe in yourself" when they received money, without strings attached, or designated for things that they didn’t need or want. They had support in the most basic and flexible form, support that they could decide what to apply it to, and not only replace housing that had been lost, but the opportunity to rebuild the community in a way that worked better for them. They heard "Believe in yourself" and they knew that  was true because we had given freely of ourselves to them. They saw God working in the people who helped them, and gave them resources to work with, and maybe they could see God starting to work in and through them. We made a difference in their lives, not through vengeance against destructive storms or vengeful giving, but through giving out of love for the needy, the homeless, the poor, and the hungry. We reached out with Jesus' hands to help them stand up. They were shaken by the wind, and then raised higher than John because of our help. In the past year, and in the year and years to come, we've seen the kingdom of heaven breaking through.