A sermon given on the second Sunday of Advent – Readings here
The story of Isaiah takes place over 2,500 years ago. But, because Isaiah’s ministry takes place within a complicated and violent political drama, it still resonates with us today.
Rabbi Abraham Heschel says that:
“the years in which Isaiah began his prophetic activity were the beginning of a most critical period for both Israel and Judah.”i
The threat of military invasions from multiple nations loomed at every border. Vigilante groups took up arms, overstepping the political hierarchy, and stirring up resentment and rage in the population. The Northern Kingdom of Israel had already been suppressed. And now, parts of Judah had been taken over by Edomites and Philistines, who had taken advantage of the chaos to bolster their own political influence.
And then things got even worse. Jerusalem was under siege.
As King Ahaz tried to figure out a way to save his people, and his land, from increasing devastation, Isaiah asked for a meeting.
In chapter 7, Isaiah gives the king a prophetic message:
“Take heed, be quiet, do not fear, and do not let your heart be faint, because of these two smoldering stumps of firebrands…It will not come to pass…If you do not stand firm in your faith, you will not stand at all.”ii
Isaiah tells King Ahaz that the invading armies will leave, and the influence of these antagonistic nations will decrease in time, but Ahaz has to be patient, and wait. He has to believe that God won’t abandon his people.
It’s simply not enough for Ahaz.
He allies with the powerful Assyrians, asking them to send troops and supplies to Judah to help them win the war. He chooses military might over God.
Heschel responds:
“No other ruler would have acted differently. The state was in peril, so he appealed to a great power for military aid. Isaiah offered words; Assyria had an army…
The future of the country was in peril. The king would have had to justify to his people a refusal to ask for help.
So Ahaz decided that it was more expedient to be “son and servant” to the king of Assyria than son and servant to the invisible God. He took refuge in a lie.”iii
The lie was that military power, and not God, could save his people.
The consequences were devastating.
While Ahaz did achieve temporary peace in Judah, it was at a cost to his own personal faith and, eventually, to the survival of his kingdom. Caught up in the thrill of his political alliance with Assyria, he continuously failed to listen to Isaiah’s warnings of destruction.
By the time Ahaz’ son, Hezekiah, took the throne, Assyria was demanding more and more tribute in exchange for their protection. And in the following years, Hezekiah broke ties with Assyria. He allied with Egypt and Babylon, in an attempt to reduce Assyria’s influence.
This was the fatal flaw.
In the coming years, the Kingdom of Judah lost every last bit of its freedom. God’s people were in exile.
This history matters, because it is the context from which today’s Isaiah reading comes to us.
In fact, most of Christianity’s messianic prophecies take place, not in a context of peace, but of utter destruction.
Burned out buildings, streets filled with rubble, air filled with the cries of dying children, and weeping parents. Hostages taken; futures taken. Rage and despair everywhere you turn.
This image of war hits close to home. We can see with the eyes of Isaiah, because we have been inundated with these scenes for two months in Israel and Palestine, nine months in Sudan, and two years in Ukraine.
In fact, the violence is happening all over, every day, and has always been happening, since the beginning of human history.
We continue to live in a world where rulers, civilians, and people of faith are being asked to make impossible decisions, sometimes for our own survival.
But, even while recognizing that there is a real threat, Isaiah asks us: will we choose God or political power?
When we justify the death of civilians, we are not choosing God. When we choose to ignore the suffering of God’s beloved children, we are not choosing God. When we convince ourselves that might makes right, we are not choosing God.
In times of war, we are justified in being afraid.
But Isaiah insists that being afraid can’t justify “taking matters into our own hands.” Because that kind of fear denies the power of God.
Our streets are full of the blood, and the cries of people who bear the image of God. And we are, all of us, complicit. Because we have forsaken our own prophesies. We have forgotten that only God can bring lasting peace, in a kingdom where Christ’s eternal light erases every shadow.
Advent is a time of reckoning with the reality that we are caught between the Kingdoms of this world and the Kingdom of God.
The prophets call us back to this reckoning, even as they sing songs of future peace.
In the beautiful passage we read today, Isaiah reminds us that God yearns to make all things beautiful. He tells us there’s a voice that calls us to clean up the rubble, and make the path straight, so that we can walk, as refugees, to the paradise God has for us.
This voice is personified, in the Gospels, by John the Baptist. He declares that God is speaking “peace to his people,” but we can’t hear it over the bombs. He dares to call people to get ready, repent, and turn away from the kingdoms of this world, so we will notice when Jesus shows up.
Jesus is on his way, and when he gets here, the distance between Heaven and earth comes crashing down into a single plane. When God shows up, everything is different. Everything is made new. Thank God, the prophets are getting us ready!
And thank God for Advent, the season that’s meant to shake us up.
This season reminds us: there is no peace if we keep choosing violence. There is no garden if we keep choosing grenades.
It’s time to say no to the kingdoms of this world, and choose the Kingdom of God instead.
Our prophetic texts tell us that God is ready for us to return.
Jesus Christ, the incarnate God, will scoop us up in his arms and give us a hug. He will stroke our hair and tell us he understands – deep in his bones – what it feels like to fear, what it feels like to be displaced, what it feels like to yearn for peace.
But our prophetic texts also ask us a very important question. And now is the time to answer it:
Are we ready to repent?
Amen.
Leah Wise 