The Desert Will Rejoice: Finding Joy In God's Promise An Advent Sermon On Isaiah 35:1-10

Introduction

During Advent, we wait. We prepare. And sometimes, if we're honest, we wonder if the waiting will ever end. Isaiah's audience knew something about waiting. Exiled, discouraged, surrounded by spiritual desert—they needed a word of hope. And God gave them not just hope, but a vision of joy so vivid it could sustain them through the darkest nights.

Isaiah 35 is a prophecy of transformation, a promise that what is barren will bloom, what is broken will be healed, and what seems impossible will become reality. This is the joy of Advent—not a superficial happiness dependent on circumstances, but a deep confidence that God is making all things new.

The Desert Will Bloom (verses 1-2)

"The desert and the parched land will be glad; the wilderness will rejoice and blossom. Like the crocus, it will burst into bloom; it will rejoice greatly and shout for joy."

Isaiah begins with an image that defies nature itself. Deserts don't rejoice. Parched land doesn't suddenly burst into bloom. Yet this is precisely God's promise—the impossible will happen.

In our spiritual lives, we all experience desert seasons. Times when prayer feels dry, when God seems distant, when our circumstances appear unchanging. But Advent teaches us that God specializes in making deserts bloom. The same God who brought forth Isaac from Sarah's barren womb, who sent water from a rock in the wilderness, who would bring forth the Messiah from a forgotten town called Bethlehem—this God can bring life to your desert.

The glory of Lebanon, the splendor of Carmel and Sharon—these were the most beautiful, lush places in Israel. God promises that even the desert will display this kind of beauty. Your season of waiting, your time of struggle, will not be wasted. God is preparing something beautiful.

Strength for the Weary (verses 3-4)

"Strengthen the feeble hands, steady the knees that give way; say to those with fearful hearts, 'Be strong, do not fear; your God will come.'"

Notice the prophet doesn't deny the difficulty. Hands are feeble. Knees are giving way. Hearts are fearful. But the answer isn't to deny these realities or to simply try harder. The answer is a promise: Your God will come.

This is the heart of Advent joy. We don't rejoice because everything is perfect. We rejoice because God has come, is coming, and will come again. Our joy isn't based on our strength but on His faithfulness.

To those with fearful hearts this Advent season—perhaps facing illness, financial uncertainty, broken relationships, or personal struggles—God says: "Be strong, do not fear." Not because you must manufacture strength, but because your God will come with vengeance against all that opposes you and with divine retribution against all that seeks to destroy you. He will come to save you.

Transformation and Healing (verses 5-7)

"Then will the eyes of the blind be opened and the ears of the deaf unstopped. Then will the lame leap like a deer, and the mute tongue shout for joy."

Isaiah's vision moves from landscape transformation to human transformation. The blind will see. The deaf will hear. The lame will leap. The mute will sing. This isn't merely physical healing—it's a picture of complete restoration.

When Jesus began His ministry, He quoted from Isaiah to describe His mission. He healed the blind, made the deaf hear, enabled the paralyzed to walk, and caused the speechless to praise God. He was the fulfillment of Isaiah's vision—the one who brings complete transformation.

But the healing continues. Christ came to open spiritually blind eyes, to unstop deaf ears that couldn't hear God's voice, to strengthen paralyzed wills, and to loose tongues bound by shame and fear. The Advent promise is that Christ still transforms lives completely.

Water will gush forth in the wilderness. Burning sand will become pools of water. In the haunts where jackals once lived, there will be grass and reeds and papyrus. God doesn't just improve our situation slightly—He completely transforms the landscape of our lives.

The Highway of Holiness (verses 8-10)

"And a highway will be there; it will be called the Way of Holiness."

Isaiah's final image is of a highway—not a narrow, treacherous path, but a broad, safe road home. This is a way prepared by God Himself, reserved for those who walk in His ways. The unclean will not journey on it. The wicked will not wander upon it. No lion or ferocious beast will be found there—only the redeemed will walk there.

This highway leads somewhere specific: to Zion, the city of God. And those who travel it will "enter Zion with singing; everlasting joy will crown their heads. Gladness and joy will overtake them, and sorrow and sighing will flee away."

Notice the language: joy will crown their heads. It's not a temporary emotion but a permanent state. Joy and gladness will overtake them—they won't have to chase after happiness; God's joy will pursue and capture them. And sorrow and sighing—those constant companions of life in a broken world—will flee away.