As I was bringing our children to church Wednesday night, they were taking note of all the homes that were lit up and decorated for Christmas. They remarked at how they liked the decorations and the effort folk put forth at Christmas time. They also said, “People are different this time of year. They’re happier, and they’re nicer.” Seeing a teachable moment I asked them, “Why do you think that is?” They responded by saying, “Christmas is a happy time.” I agreed with them and we talked about the love God showed us through the gift of his son, Jesus Christ. How Christ warms our hearts and makes us happy, and as Christians, we should carry that warmth everyday, not just during December.
This time of year does have a special feel to it. Our early snow certainly added to that feeling, and I like that feeling that comes with Christmas. The Christmas Season usually brings out the best in people. Christmas has an affect on our attitudes and our outlook. It’s interesting how promises and characteristics that aren’t always present in our current circumstances or in our society become a point of emphasis during the Advent Season.
Last week we focused on hope. Hope is a powerful feeling that represents a mindset or an attitude. Unfortunately, our degree of hope often runs parallel to our circumstances. When we’re down and out, our hope sometimes wanes, but when we’re upbeat and positive, hope springs eternal. Last week’s scripture illustrated Isaiah’s hopefulness in spite of their being kicked out of Jerusalem and their being in Babylonian exile. He showed us that hope is not dependant upon circumstances. Hope is an attitude. Hope is a way of life.
This morning we relit the candle of hope and then lit the candle of peace. When we consider the circumstances in our nation and in our world, it’s rather ironic that we proclaim peace in the midst of such turmoil. Some of the headlines from this past week’s newspaper read: “Turkey may support U. S. war on Iraq.” “Saudis say they are fighting terrorism.” “Israeli troops kill elderly Palestinian woman,” bringing the death toll to over 2,600 since September of last year. “Al-Qaeda claims responsibility for Kenya attacks.” “U.S. forces say they’re ready for war.”
How do we seriously approach this hour of worship; how do we honestly and with a clear conscience proclaim hope and peace in the midst of such turmoil and tragedy? How do we find the tranquility of peace when we bear the burden of grief? How do we claim Christ as the Prince of Peace, when we refuse to make him Lord of our Lives? How do these words, attributed to Isaiah, bring hopefulness and peace in the midst of suffering?
I’d like to suggest that these words in Isaiah bring hopefulness and peace, because they are from God. Last week’s scripture was a plea from Isaiah that God come down here and change things! Isaiah was speaking, asking God to rip open the heavens and make the earth shake in his presence. This morning’s scripture starts with God speaking.
VS 1-2. This is not Isaiah crying out, but God’s response of comfort. The initiative is God’s. God is again moving in history. He has not deserted the world. He has not deserted his chosen people. He is the sustainer and provider of peace.
A study was done some years ago around the subject of peace & contentment. One thing it showed is that self-centered, egotistical people scored lowest on any test that measured peace and contentment. Perhaps you’ve heard the saying, “The trouble with some self-made men is that they worship their creator.” The message here is to believe in something bigger than yourself... I’d like to suggest God.
Circumstances in life can change in an instant, but God doesn’t. Economies head south, companies scale back, and you lose your job. Your circumstances have changed, but God hasn’t. Your parents grow older, their health declines, and now you have to care for your mother or father. Your circumstances have changed, but God hasn’t. Annual physicals indicate good health, but out of nowhere cancer appears. Your circumstances have changed, but God hasn’t.
I heard a minister say this past week, “If God was small enough that everything about Him could be explained, He wouldn’t be big enough for you to worship.” True peace starts with belief in God. God’s words to Isaiah, God’s words to the Israelite people, and God’s words to us today are “Comfort, O comfort my people.” Circumstances change, but God hasn’t.
A second voice chimes in and says, “In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for God.” Some have suggested this is referring to Jesus’ cousin, John the Baptist, the precursor to Jesus’ ministry: the voice crying out in the wilderness, preparing the way for Jesus Christ. We have the benefit of looking back through a New Testament lens to make that connection, but for the Israelites who didn’t have benefit of NT hindsight, it had a different meaning.
The wilderness they were in was the wilderness of Babylonian exile, and the highway for God was the highway intended to lead them out of Babylon back to the Promised Land. Preparing this highway will call for nature to be transformed so an unobstructed way for God can be prepared.
This is a call to resist the temptation to withdraw and become reclusive when in exile. In other words, stay connected. The Israelites find themselves in circumstances where they have been literally disconnected. They have been kicked out of their homeland. They have been removed from the place that brought them joy and comfort, yet they are being told to build the road that will return them to their home.
What roads need to be built in your life so you might be led out of the wilderness and return home? Too often we lay down the tools of construction that can be used to build the highway in favor of the tools of destruction. The story that Jesus tells in Luke of the prodigal son is one of my favorites. Let’s walk back through it for a moment:
A son asks his father for his share of his father’s estate, basically saying, “I’m more interested in what you’re going to give me after you die, than what you can give me while I’m living.”
The father agrees and gives his son his share of his estate. The son takes the money, moves to a foreign land (a self-imposed exile), and lives it up. He spends the money on booze, women, and parties. He goes broke and finds himself living in the gutter. He is in the wilderness. He has replaced the tools of construction with the tools of destruction, and he has cast himself into exile.
Let’s be honest…we’ve each done the same thing. There has been a time in each of our lives where we’ve disconnected ourselves, lived in the wilderness, cast down the tools of construction, and felt the loneliness of exile. If you say you haven’t, I’d say you’re lying!
The son comes to his senses, realizing that his father’s servants are in better shape than he is, and he begins to build a highway that will lead him out of the desert. He picks up his tools and starts construction.
Don’t let your tools lie dormant. Don’t let your tools gather rust. Don’t let your tools of desert highway construction slip from your grasp. You know where the road needs to be built. You know the tools that must be picked up and used in order to build the highway. Don’t withdraw and become reclusive. Staying connected to your family, staying connected to your church family, staying connected to those around you contributes greatly toward your peace. Get to work on your highway that will lead you from exile.
There’s a song that says, “Let there be peace on earth…and let it begin with me.” When we consider the vastness of God’s creation, it’s easy to take on the attitude of, “What difference can I make?” Perhaps you’ve heard of the father and son who were walking along a beach where thousands of star fish had been washed up on shore. One by one, the son begins picking them up and throwing them back. The father says, “Son, don’t waste your time. It’s not going to make that big a difference?” His son looks at the star fish in his hand, tosses it into the ocean and says, “It makes a difference to that one.”
“Let it begin with me.” During Thanksgiving, I watched a Muppet Christmas special with my children. The Muppets were preparing for their Holiday show when they learned their landlord was going to evict them for nonpayment and they would lose the Muppet Theater. They devised a plan to earn enough money to payoff their landlord in time to save the Theater. Their show was a success, and they raised enough money, but on his way to the bank, Fozzy Bear got sidetracked and lost the bag of money. The Muppet Theater will soon be lost, Kermit is heart-broken, full of despair and angrily cries out, “I wish I’d never been born.”
An angel appears and grants his wish. He then reverses time and begins to show Kermit each of the Muppets’ lives without him…Fozzy Bear’s a pickpocket, Ms. Piggy’s a fuzzy, Gonzo’s a street musician, and the Muppet theater was a bar.
On the brink of losing the Muppet Theater, Kermit felt like a complete failure, as if his life had had no meaning, as if he had not made a difference, but then he saw first-hand the impact he had on the lives of his friends, regardless of whether he saved the Muppet Theater or not.
“Let it begin with me.” Don’t ever underestimate the impact you can have on God’s kingdom. Don’t ever believe that it can’t start with you. Don’t ever think, “What difference can I make.”
There is a special feeling that automatically comes with this time of year, and it started with one, tiny infant, born in a stinky barn, who was initially laid in a manger. Thank God he didn’t think, “What difference can I make?” Thank God, when he found himself in the desert, he picked up the tools of construction and built a highway that led him home, and thank God, he believed in something bigger than himself. Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with…
