Justice and Mercy

No, O people, the LORD has told you what is good, and this is what he requires of you: to do what is right, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God. – Micah. 6:8 NLT

He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the LORD require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God? – Micah. 6:8 ESV

He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the LORD require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God? – Micah. 6:8 KJV

If you’ve been in one of my bible studies you’ve probably caught my not-quite-rant about translations. It is a not-quite-rant because all of our translations are fine. You will get the meaning. But they tend to do one thing. They sand down distinctions. If you are doing woodwork, sanding things smooth is good. If you are doing words, it’s the distinctions that matter. And sometimes I wonder if the translation committees have read the bible. The only one I never wonder that about is the old King James. Those divines knew their Bible. They may not have always known their Hebrew or Greek that well. They certainly didn’t have that great work of 19^th and 20^th century scholarship – the compilation of every known manuscript. And their language is certainly dated today, but they knew their language which is still ours at a distance.

I fall into this not-quite-rant because our Old Testament lesson this week ends with one of the most quoted lines of the entire Old Testament. But the people who usually quote it, and the circumstances in which it is quoted, are often at odds with its true meaning.

The minor prophets, the 12 works collected at the end of our Old Testament, are compressed jewels from the beginning of the prophetic time until its close. Micah as a prophet overlaps Isaiah. He starts with the fall of the Northern Kingdom of Israel and by the end is looking at the fall of the Judah. And the charge in Micah 6 is Judah’s complaints against God. Judah is essentially saying to God, “What have you done for me lately?” And God has decided to respond. “O my people, what have I done to you? How have I wearied you? Answer me!” And the LORD recalls the highpoints of what he has done for them: redeemed you from the house of slavery, lead you to and gave you the promised land, brought blessings out of the mouths of those who wanted to curse you, gave you the sacrificial system yet not made that sacrificial system everything. “Will the LORD be pleased with thousands of rams, with ten thousands of rivers of oil? (Micah 6:7).” And unlike the nations around them the LORD never requires your firstborn. The emphasis on all of this is the LORD has bestowed on his people his grace first. When they didn’t deserve anything, they were given it. And what does the LORD desire? The LORD insists that he has been clear.

Even if our translators have sanded things down they all get the question: What is good? “The LORD has told you what is good.” All the translations get that. What they mess up is the exquisite balance. The old King James gets it – “do justly, and love mercy.” There is always a tension between justice and mercy. Able’s blood for vengeance pleaded to the skies, but the blood of Jesus for our pardon cries, as the hymn puts it. And neither side is wrong. The LORD requires doing Justice. Contrary to the rioters in MN, we as a nation have laws that should be enforced – do justice. The LORD requires that we love mercy. Contrary to the harshest voices who would freely say “deport abuela,” we should love to temper that justice with mercy. And nobody has ever said this tension is easy to live or resolve. When you do not do justice – like leaving the borders open and letting in 20M people who do not have a legal right – you create a mess that compounds. And without someone desiring to grant mercy, you end up in the lex talionis where everyone loses eyes, or lives. With competing claims of “say her/his name.”

I’m sorry ESV, kindness doesn’t cut it. We are not asked to love kindness, but mercy. I’m sorry NLT, but “what is right” doesn’t cut it. We are asked to do justice. We ourselves have been given grace. What the LORD requires is not like that ancient law that kills. We walk in grace. In that tension of justice and mercy is how we humbly walk with God.

The Preaching of the Cross

1 Corinthians 1:18

(ESV) For the word of the cross is folly to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.

(KJV) For the preaching of the cross is to them that perish foolishness; but unto us which are saved it is the power of God.

(NLT) The message of the cross is foolish to those who are headed for destruction! But we who are being saved know it is the very power of God.

Did you ever tell your kids to do something. It was somewhat complex so you had them repeat what you said back. They repeat it back fine and you leave for work. And then when you get home they have done something so mind bogglingly different you wonder if words mean the same thing? Maybe that is just a me thing, but I think it is a shared experience.

Even when you speak the same language, supposedly, and you are taking care in communication, exactly what is being said can be understood in different ways. Now layer on translation from one language to another. And I’m not rehearsing the difficulty to say it is impossible. We reverse the curse of Babel all the time. I’m thinking about this for three reasons.

In the young adult study on the Augsburg Confession, one of them asked a question roughly “why do we Lutherans make it so hard by disagreeing with everyone?” And the answer is not so much that we disagree with everyone, or that we make it rougher. It is that the Lutheran tradition has thought long and hard in multiple languages, and in our deepest doctrine we are trying to be exact. Because doctrine is like the answer book. You may not believe it just yet. You might not understand how you get there. But that is part of life. We believe things because we are told them all the time, and we set off to understand why or how.
Reversing the curse of Babel is the work of Pentecost. It is the work of the Holy Spirit. The Word goes out and it does not return empty because the Holy Spirit is at work in the world.
The deepest words are not given to us in words, but in the actions of a person. The person of Jesus Christ. The Word made flesh.

Up top I’ve put up three different English translations of the same verse. It’s a verse that is the Apostle Paul’s understanding of the gospel. It is preceded by Paul’s understanding of his purpose or mission. “For Christ did not send me to baptize but to preach the gospel, and not with words of eloquent wisdom, lest the cross of Christ be emptied of its power. (1 Cor. 1:17 ESV)” Paul was a preacher. A preacher might use philosophy on occasion, but the core of the apostle’s message didn’t need it – “not with eloquent wisdom.” The core of the message is the cross. The gospel is the message of the cross.

And that message…or the preaching…or the word…of the cross is always paradoxical. You can look at the cross and see another dead peasant who didn’t understand the way of the world. Pilate had rendered his judgement, and this is what always happens when you become inconvenient to power. Empire…power always wins. The cross is foolishness to those who are perishing. But if you have ears to hear the preaching. That cross is the power of God. The power of God that doesn’t work in a straightforward right-handed way, but it sneaks by with the left hand. It exposes the power of the world for what it is, that which would kill the innocent, even the innocent Son of God. And it proclaims the steadfast love of God for sinners. Behold, the lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world.

For the preaching of the cross is to them that perish foolishness; but unto us which are saved it is power of God.

Meditation on The Law – Psalm 19

Once upon a time, the liturgy started with the Introit. You can probably hear “enter” in Introit. It was that entrance hymn. Confession and absolution were done privately prior to attending service instead of our corporate confession. Our opening hymn, or processional hymn, is really a duplication of the Introit. Think of it this way. The Psalms were the original hymnbook. The Divine Service of the Word grew out of the Synagogue worship. So the opening hymn, the Introit, typically comes from the Psalms. Over the centuries it got handed to the choir to chant. And in our case has become a call and response spoken act. That Introit is meant to encapsulate the theme of the entire service. When we didn’t all carry calendars with us in our phones or have them on every wall the weeks of the year were often known by the first word or phrase of the Introit as they were standardized across all of Christendom. After the antiphon, this week might have been “The Heavens Declare” week.

That comes from Psalm 19:1-14. What do the Heaven’s declare? And how are they declaring? According the Psalmist they declare the Glory of God. And it is the mere existence of the sky that proclaims his handiwork. The Scriptures are consistent. We – mankind – can look at creation and know there is a creator. We can also know by looking at creation that this creator is glorious. And the scriptures are equally as clear that this is not a subtle or hidden speaking. “Day to day pours out speech…there is no speech whose voice is not heard…the voice goes out through all the earth.” You can call this natural revelation. You might call it the natural law. Wherever we go we can perceive the natural workings of God. They are as persistent and as dependable as the sun. “In them [these naturally proclaimed words] he has set a tent for the sun…and like a strong man runs its course with joy.”

But those natural words that we all live and move and have our being within are not all the words that God has shared with us. He has also revealed to us his law. “The law of the Lord is perfect, reviving the soul. The testimony of the LORD is sure, make wise the simple.” And the Psalmist continue praising and extoling what that revealed law does: enlightens the eyes, endures, shows truth, refines. “By them is your servant warned; in keeping them there is great reward.”

But the meditation upon the law – whether that be the glory of Almighty God shown forth in creation, or the perfection of the revealed law, the commandments of the LORD – has a flaw. “Who can discern his errors?” The glory is beyond my understanding. The keeping of the revealed law is deeper than I can understand my own heart. My own heart works against me. Hiding its purposes. Convincing me of falsehood and foolishness. Hiding the truth from myself. “Declare me innocent from hidden faults, keep back your servant also from presumptuous sins.” The meditation of the law leads all of us to that place where we know our sinfulness, even if we don’t know it’s depth or reach. We need a savior. One who will ‘declare us innocent..keep us back.” One who will free us from what has enslaved us. “let sin not have dominion over me.”

The Psalmist leaves it there. His petition is to God to deliver him. And he trusts in God – “O LORD, my rock and my redeemer.” He does not know the how, but he has faith that God shall redeem him. But to you has been proclaimed the fullness of the story. You know your rock and redeemer are Jesus Christ. We share the faith of the Psalmist that God has done this. But we know the how. The cross. And His son who hung on it. As the Baptist will point out in the Gospel lesson. “Behold, The Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world.” Here is the one who has moved us from the dominion of sin into his Kingdom.

Divine Justice

The book of Isaiah has four sections that get called the “Servant Songs.” They get called that because they all begin with or incorporate the phrase “behold my servant.” They catch the ear because they make clear the purpose and method of the messiah. The later ones – Isaiah 50:4-9, Isaiah 52:13-53:12 – are more attuned to the Lent and Easter seasons with that last one practically carrying the season. “He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief. (Isa. 53:3 ESV)” And yet it ends with not only the servant’s vindication, but his deliverance of many. “Out of the anguish of his soul he shall see and be satisfied; by his knowledge shall the righteous one, my servant, make many to be accounted righteous, and he shall bear their iniquities. (Isa. 53:11 ESV).” But the earlier ones – Isaiah 42:1-9, Isaiah 49:1-6 – are more attuned to Epiphany. The second one is about the servant as “the light for the nations (Isaiah 49:6)” which gets quoted both in Acts and reflected in Simeon’s song, The Nunc Dimittis. Our Old Testament Lesson today is the first of these songs and is clear about the purpose and method of the messiah.

The purpose of the messiah is “to bring forth justice to the nations.” Now I don’t think what we think about when we hear the word justice is all that different than what those ancient Israelites would have thought. ‘No Justice, No Peace” as the saying goes. And there is always clamor in the streets. And if not in the streets themselves, in the warfare – both the kind with bullets and the kind with ballots. Justice is a word that depends upon whether we want it for ourselves or for others. Justice for ourselves is give us something. Justice for others is take it from them or hurt them for me. And that is not to dismiss the hurts perpetrated that are injustice. Ancient Israel wanted vengeance against the nations. They wanted the restoration of the Kingdom and tribute to flow to them. So when God promises a servant who will bring forth justice to the nations, sweet catnip to the ears.

But the methods of this servant do not look anything like our justice. Unlike the clamor in the streets, “He will not cry aloud or lift up his voice, or make it heard in the streets.” We live in what is often called the attention economy. There are literally millions of people who are shouting into the void for your attention. I saw I believe a Pew survey of high schoolers asking what they wanted to be when they grew up. The number one answer was “youtube-er.” The servant sung about by Isaiah is literally the opposite of our influencers. The Spirit that rests upon him empowers the work. It starts as small as a mustard seed. It starts with calling 12 to follow. When you hear it, know that is your invitation. “The coastlands wait for his law (Isaiah 42:4).” Everything the servant does, he does in his own time. And you cannot rush it.

Unlike our justice which is usually lightly veneered revenge or about re-dividing a fixed amount of goods, this servant promises two things. “The bruised reed he will not break” and “he who created the heavens and stretched them out…will take you by the hand and keep you.” Our justice is so often about scarcity and fear. We parcel out death. But the Justice of the servant is bottomless. He brings life. “He gives breath to the people on it, and spirit to those who walk in it.” The Spirit that was upon him is given to us. The eyes that are blind see, the prisoners in the dungeon are brought out. Those who sit in darkness a light shines. And there is no limit to this uncreated light.

Matthew points out that this is exactly how Jesus worked (Matthew 12 which ends with a quote of this servant song). Our experience of justice in a fallen world is so distorted that this sounds fantastical. We’d never believe it if it came out of nowhere. When Jesus came it still felt like coming out of nowhere. But that too is part of the method. “The former things have come to pass and new things I declare; before they spring forth I tell you of them (Isaiah 42:9).” In the life of Israel we can see the workings of God. And God has told us in advance – “Behold – look – this is my servant.” God has told us what he intends to do which is save us. Bring his justice to the world. And he has told us what it will look like. It will look like peace and restoration and life. Not in the way of the world, but in the way of the Spirit.

New Year Reflection

New Year as a holiday is something that I struggle to place. It is something of an extra day off in the middle of the 12 days of Christmas. One celebrated by the traditional football games: Rose, Sugar, Cotton, Orange and Fiesta. (Slipping into the book of American Leviticus 23, “And you shall celebrate this New Year with parades and the blowing of the marching band Trumpet…:.

Somewhat famously the pilgrims, Puritans by religious sect, did not celebrate Christmas. Compared to the Lutheran Reformation which kept everything that could be kept, which included the liturgical church year, the Reformed tradition went by a strict principle. If it could not be justified by biblical practice, then it was not allowed. The Lord’s Day – Sunday – was justified. The disciples gathered on the Lord’s Day after the resurrection. Christmas somehow was not. It was a deemed a pagan intrusion into the well regulated calendar of Lord’s Days. The Lutheran understanding in these regards is more anything not forbidden is allowed. And God did not say “you shall not celebrate Christmas with a 12 day festival.” But New Year is one of those odd days. There is a command or biblical warrant about it. In actual Leviticus 23 it is the Feast of Trumpets. You get a bit more in Numbers 29. It is known today as Rosh Hoshana or the Jewish New Year. So the Puritans down to the Presbyterians often held New Years. It is amusing to me how very early in my life many American Lutherans adopted New Year services to blend in with the general American Reformed religious environment, but the secular commercial juggernaut of America has forced everyone into Christmas, which ends the morning of the 26th of December. All the sharp distinctives of yesteryear become dull.

Maybe my confusion isn’t all that new. Those ancient Israelites had at least two New Years. The festival of trumpets, Rosh Hoshana, was the first of the civil calendar, but it was in the seventh month of the religious calendar which started in the month of Nisan which held Passover. Every religious year passed through Passover, Pentecost and Sukkot – the travel festivals. Jewish mysticism holds that the Civil New Year is the day the world was created and once a year the Trumpet of God – the Festival of Trumpets – is blown to wake it up again. It is the day that God decides this old earth gets another year. Which the Apostle Paul picks up in 1 Corinthians 15:52, “and the Trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised imperishable, and we shall be changed.” The Resurrection as the New Year of the New Creation. A different Trumpet bringing in a New Life and a New Creation.

Until we all hear that much different Trumpet, the words of a Christmas Hymn that I love reflect for me more a Spirit of New Year. The secular celebration seems to be about new births – the New Year’s baby, the resolutions, the re-upping of the gym memberships. New births that never really live up to the hoped for new Trumpet when we shall all be changed. The hymn Stars of Glory has a different reflection.

Stars of glory, shine more brightly/Purer be the moonlight’s beam;

Glide ye hours and moments lightly/Swiftly down time’s deepening stream.

Bring the hour that banished sadness/Brought redemption down to earth,

When the shepherds heard with gladness/Tidings of a Savior’s birth.

Mary gathered up all these things and pondered them in her heart. The hours of this old earth glide lightly by, but each adds to a deepening stream. Each brings us closer to that final hour that banishes sadness. Happy New Year.

Companions of Christ

This year we have two Sundays in the 12 days of the Christmas season proper, but the first falls on a festival day that demands notice. And it calls us to look around the Christmas season as well. There are a series of saint days just after Christmas that go back to the ancient church. They’ve been on the church calendar forever. Sometimes they are called the “Comites Christi” or Companions of Christ” – St. Stephen (26^th), St John (27^th) and The Holy Innocents (28^th). If you stop to think about those names it’s an interesting list for Christmastime.

St. Stephen is the first martyr. His story is found in Acts 6 and 7. He was first chosen as one of the seven deacons who were to administer the church’s community chest that took care of the widows and orphans. But somehow those seven deacons got involved in a lot more than that. The deacon Philip found himself preaching in Samaria and bi-locating by the power of the Spirit next to the Ethiopian Eunuch and then back in Galilee. But Stephen’s story precedes Philip’s. Acts says Stephen was “full of grace and power, was doing great wonders and signs among the people. (Acts 6:8 ESV).” And just like the story of Jesus, when one is full of grace and truth and performing signs and wonders, the world does not like it. Stephen is arrested and eventually stoned after he gives one of the great Jeremiad speeches of all time. If they treated Christ this way, the disciple can expect no less. At that stoning is where Saul, eventually Paul, enters the story. He heard the speech and held the cloaks of those doing the stoning. And was raised to a fever pitch of zealousness that he would get permission to hunt down the rest.

St. John is the counterbalance to the first martyr being the only one of the Apostles not to be a martyr. If Stephen’s service lasted but a couple of days from ordination to stoning, John was the youngest of the disciples and lived supposedly until over 100 years old after suffering exile on Patmos, the place of his Revelation. John cared for Mary during that time as the appointed son. And his care for Mary was also his care for the Church that his LORD had founded. As the Apostolic age came to a close, John was the final witness who often sorted out the solid word of God from the fake messages that seemed constant. If you read his three letters you will catch his concern over the many antichrists that have already entered the world (1 John 2:18). But even more importantly his reminders to “love one another (1 john 3:11)” which was the commandment given at the last supper. John is the companion of Christ in a full life of service.

The last of the companions are the Holy Innocents. We do not know the number. These are the children killed by Herod when he remembers a couple of years later that the Wise Men did not come back. So he kills all the male children in the Bethlehem region two and younger. It is a reminder of the fury of Satan and World. They know their time is short, and they will kill anything that reminds them of the hour. Anyone who reminds them of how they have failed in their callings. In our modern language we might call the Holy Innocents collateral damage. As we go about our lives – lives lived by the dictates of the World and Sin – we cause death. That is what sin and the world are about.

But this is exactly what Christ has come to rescue us from – from sin and death and the power of Satan. The children killed by the raving of a world are made holy by their association with Christ. And this is so for all of us. Whether we find ourselves called short like Stephen, called long like John or call unawares like the innocents, the Companions of Christ are all made Holy by Him. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness does not overcome it.

Prophecy and Fulfillment

The Old Testament lesson for today (Isaiah 7:10-17) is the greatest example of how predictive prophecy often works. And in this case, it is not without its irony. Among the generally impious Kings of Israel and Judah, Ahaz stands out as maybe the most impious. The book of Kings records that “he even burned his son as an offering according to the despicable practices of the nations (2 Kings 16:3).” He personally offered sacrifices to various gods at the high places. And on a trip to Syria to meet the King of Assyria, Ahaz witnessed an altar in Damascus that he so fell in love with he sent his priest to get all the measurements. He then had the priests in Jerusalem built a replica, rip out the Altar of the temple and install his. He invited the King of Damascus down to preside with him over the inaugural offerings on the new altar. And he instructed his priests to do all their offerings on the new altar.

But for some reason God is not completely concerned about that blasphemous altar at this time. What he is demonstrating to Ahaz – the worst of them – is His faithfulness to his covenant with David, Ahaz’s lineage. The Northern Kingdom of Israel has aligned itself with Syria and is attacking Judah, the remains of the Davidic Kingdom. God sends Isaiah and promises Ahaz “don’t worry, have faith, they will not win, and within 65 years they won’t even be a nation.” And the prophet tells Ahaz to ask for anything he wants as a sign. “Let it be deep as sheol or as high as heaven (Isaiah 7:10).” What an opportunity! I can only imagine what I might ask for. But sticking with Ahaz’s unbelief, when the prophet of God tells him ask anything…Ahaz responds that “I will not put God to the test! (Isaiah 7:12).” Only Ahaz could multiply his impiety by being pious at exactly the wrong time. He’s quoting Deuteronomy 6:16 and Moses’ instructions to not be like Israel immediately after the Red Sea complaining that they had no water (Exodus 17) and that Egypt was better. But God is telling him to ask!

So even though Ahaz doesn’t believe, and won’t listen to the Word of the prophet and “wearies God” quoting scripture back to him, God is faithful. And through the prophet Isaiah delivers unto Ahaz a sign of that faithfulness. There will always be a Davidic King. In this immediate timeframe it is you – absolutely worthless Ahaz. “And the virgin shall conceive and bear a son…and before the child is a boy, the land of the two kings you dread will be deserted (Isaiah 7:14-16).” Imagine the impassioned prophet, and I always imagined Isaiah as someone who didn’t suffer fools gladly, of which Ahaz was a fool, imagine Isaiah pointing at some young lady at the royal court. And to them a child was born and a son was given (Isaiah 9).

That nearer fulfillment is like staring at mountains. You see the shorter mountains in front, but there are often greater mountains in the back. From a distance you can really tell how far off. There might be valleys between the peaks. As the nearer fulfillment was God’s sign about keeping his covenant with David, that there would always be a Davidic King, so also the greater fulfillment. And likewise the miracle of the greater fulfillment is much greater. In that still living Kingdom, one is lead to believe that the young lady conceived in the normal way. Crossing the valley of the years, Mary would conceive and bear a son, not in the normal way, but by the Holy Spirit. Not just a young woman, but the virgin. And the Virgin Mary’s son would be the eternal Davidic King. The child born and given to all of us. After long years, where even the heirs of David – like Joseph – probably chuckled at the claims, God is faithful. And unlike Ahaz, Joseph, with some angelic help, believes.

All the great prophecies, the signs and wonders of God, find their tallest peak fulfillment in Christ. Now we might often wonder what is beyond those peaks. The first advent points to the final advent. And we’d love to know the valley on the other side. But the sign of God keeps us focused on the mount – on Christ himself. Unlike Ahaz, have faith. “If you are not firm in faith, you will not be firm at all (Isaiah 7:9).” If the promise was good for Ahaz, it will be even more so for the man of faith.

The Way Home

Our Old Testament lesson assigned for Advent three is Isaiah 35:1-10. It is a poem about the return from exile. The Story of Israel, of the Old Testament, is always one of residing in the promised land, being removed from it, and then returning. Think of it as three nested stories. Adam and Eve are in the garden. They sin and are removed from it. God tells the serpent who had deceived them and lead them astray that the disordered state would not always be the case. “her offspring shall crush your head (Genesis 3:15).” Within that story of Adam, there is the story of the Patriarchs. Abraham, Isaac and Jacob all sojourn in the promised land of Canaan, but it is not theirs. They have to buy bits of land to bury their dead. God promises it will be their descendants, but they will be slaves in Egypt first. And eventually they journey into Egypt where there comes a time when “Pharoah knew not Joseph (Exodus 1:8)” and they become slaves for over 400 years. God rescues them with a signs and wonders, makes covenant with Israel at Sinai, delivers them to the promised land and fulfills his promises to the Patriarchs. But like Adam and Eve in the garden, Israel breaks the covenant. And so a third time people are spit out of the promised land. Israel is taken captive in Babylon. But again through the same prophets that warn of the coming judgement, God promises restoration. And eventually, 70 years later, Israel returns to the promised land after the exile.

If you are following the nesting, you have the outer universal story of Adam and Eve and the promise to Satan that this isn’t the end. You have the covenant story of Patriarchs to Exodus which is a story of pure grace. And you have the story of Conquest to Exile which is a story of the law, but also of the return which is another act of grace. In the inner stories, God is always true to his promises and covenants. God’s grace is always sufficient. The heirs of the Patriarchs received the promised land. Even more so, when Israel is faithless and breaks the covenant, God remains faithful. He keeps them while in exile and affects their return. But the outer story – the universal story of Adam and Eve – has not been completed. But we do know the promise. Satan’s head is going to be crushed. God is going to do this. And if the inner stories are the example, even when we don’t deserve it, we will walk back into paradise. “Remember me when you come into your Kingdom,” said the thief. And Jesus promised, “today your will be with me in paradise.”

Isaiah’s poem is an image of Israel’s return from exile. The way between the far country of exile and the home country of the promised land is depicted as “wilderness and dry land (Isaiah 35:1).” The way is initially a “burning sand…haunt of jackals (Isaiah 35:7).” Those who are in exile are depicted as “weak of hand and feeble of knee and anxious of heart (Isaiah 35:3-4).” They are “blind and deaf and lame (Isaiah 35:5-6)” and “sorrowing and sighing (Isaiah 35:10).” Surely these are not able to make the journey under their own power. But God shall make “the desert blossom like the crocus (Isaiah 35:1).” He shall make “the water break forth in the wilderness and pools appear (Isaiah 35:6-7).” All of which will provide for them on their journey. God will make the wild animals to lie down. And He will make the way back a highway. And He will strengthen all those who walk it. “Be strong, fear not (Isaiah 35:4).”

We are those returning in that outer universal story of Adam and Eve. Jesus came to open the highway by his cross. By death he defeated death that wild animal. By the cross he crushed Satan’s head. Now “No lion shall be there, nor any ravenous beast come upon it. They shall not be found there, but the redeemed shall walk there. And the ransomed of the LORD shall return (Isaiah 35:9-10).” Now that doesn’t mean that lion isn’t searching for those he might devour. We might wander off the road. The “Way of Holiness” might feel too steep as we feel our sins. ‘The unclean shall not pass over it (Isaiah 35:8).” But our life is safe in Christ. He has made strong our hands and knees and hearts. He has cast out our sorrow. “Everlasting joy shall be upon their heads, and they shall obtain gladness and joy (Isaiah 35:9-10).” Jesus has secured this. We just need to walk it. Put one foot in front of the other daily. Walk it the way home. Walk it to the promised land. God’s always kept his promises before. He will also now. He has made our way through the wilderness beautiful.

A Thrilling Voice is Sounding

You can tell me if it is just that I’m strange, but I always thought most of us have this junk drawer of various topics that just keep returning. Nothing in that junk drawer is absolutely necessary, except in that exact moment when you need a potato masher or small flashlight or battery tester or the letter opener. The big potato masher of my mental junk drawer has always been the doctrine of election. The first thing that you see when you open that junk drawer. The thing that might be big enough to prevent the drawer from opening. And you have to fiddle with it a bit – shaking the drawer to get some things to move – to get into it. Not today election, I don’t have the time. And if you demand my attention, I’m just going to force this drawer open. I’m going to become a gross Calvinist so I don’t have to think about you anymore. Sure, forcing that drawer open breaks the countertop. Like Calvinism breaks the incarnation. Who needs an incarnation with its revelation if the eternal decrees which remain His forever are all that matters? Who needs time? But somedays you just need the potato masher firmly in hand.

Some days you don’t need the potato masher. Somedays there are other things in that junk drawer. Right next to that potato masher of the doctrine of election is the kitchen timer – time itself. Somehow the eternal decrees and “I AM” and speculations about the eternal now, morph their way into this one moment. Running through Dr. Who’s timey-whimy tardis adventures and AI dreams of titanium terminators coming back in time for John Carter – another JC. Advent is a season in some ways about time. A season of waiting, of longing, of fulfillment. All things that depend upon time. And then you find yourself thinking that you live your life week to week – Sunday to Sunday rhythms. And how many of those weeks you might have (50 x 80 = 4000 plus 160 for the other 2×80). And how many of those weeks did you make matter?

We live in time. And we can become so used to its rhythms. 60 beats a minute, 60 minutes an hour, your heart beats them out. If you’ve got a pacemaker, you know how disturbing it can be when the heart isn’t keeping time. Or if your heart in your 53rd year starts throwing in extra beats that occasionally wake you in your 8 hours of slumber. Maybe trying to make up for weeks that didn’t mean anything? We live in time. We like our ruts.

And in the middle of our ruts, we hear a voice in the distance. Is that the TV? Does one of the kids have their earphones out? “Repent, for the Kingdom of Heaven is near.”

“You brood of Vipers, who warned you to flee from the coming wrath?”

“Even now the axe is laid to the root of the tree!”

And we are no longer in time. This is not the week by week. The heart is running a little faster. We’ve been called out into the wilderness. Maybe we’ve gone there willingly. Maybe we’ve been drug there. Maybe we are there because we want to turn it off and get back to our time, to our rut. “Jerusalem and all Judea and all the region around the Jordan were going out to him.” Right now, we are not in time exactly. Today we have been called to a moment. Today we have been called to the desert where time doesn’t move the same.

Today you have been baptized with water and fire for repentance. Today the voice calls, “make straight the way.” And don’t think you can call on ancestors – “we have Abraham as our father.” This is about you. This moment is yours. Tomorrow the threshing floor clears and the chaff is burned. Today, this moment, is yours. “Repent, for the Kingdom of Heaven is near.”

And then you are back. In time. What are you going to do with it

The King’s Order

I don’t know if it has passed Gunsmoke yet for the longest running TV show, but Law and Order has been on forever. And I’ve always had a bit of a bone to pick with that name. In that show the first half is supposed to be “law” which is taken up with the police while the second half is the “order” which is the lawyers in the courtroom. Lawyers may think their operations are the working of order, but already that is at order’s breakdown. True order springs from the place where the law is just and the people desire to live in peace. In a perfectly ordered society the law becomes an afterthought because it is written on hearts and hearts are attuned to follow, and the law is no longer necessary as even a curb. Isaiah’s picture of the Messianic society in our Old Testament lesson is a picture of perfect order.

The nations’ and peoples’ statement is “let us go up to the mountain of the LORD…that he may teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths (Isaiah 2:3).” It is on the mountaintop that the law is given, but what the nations’ desire is the ways of God. The desire to walk in his paths. The law at best defines the boundaries of those things. The law states what is off the path or what is outside of the way of God. But the desire is the fullness of divine order. To live in harmony with the will of God.

The start of that order can be the law. “Out of Zion shall go the law (Isaiah 2:3).” But the law is not the end. For by the law we only know where we have trespassed. The law multiplies the sin. As Paul would say, those under that law are being tutored. They are under the pedagogue. But Isaiah says parallel to the law “the word of the LORD (goes our) from Jerusalem (Isaiah 2:3).” It is that Word – the order of God that we seek. Because it is only within that order that we find true peace.

As long as we are testing the boundaries of the law – sinning – we find ourselves at war. We find ourselves at war with the King and his law. We find ourselves at war with our neighbor as we attempt to advantage ourselves at their expense. We find ourselves at war with ourselves. For in our hearts we know the law, and the Spirit in us longs for the Order of God, but we continue the war in our members. It is only when we submit ourselves to the King that we shall find peace. “He shall judge between the nations, and shall decide disputes for many peoples (Isaiah 2:4).” As the song says “I fought the law and the law won.” God is sovereign. His law is the only true law. And it ultimately decides between nations and peoples. The only question is if we are brought before it as outlaws or as those who desire true justice.

Those whose hearts are submitted to Christ there will find peace. “They shall beat their swords into ploughshares, and their spears into pruning hooks (Isaiah 2:4).” We can put down our war against God and our neighbor and ourselves. We can do that in repentance and seeking God’s order for our lives. Isaiah’s ultimate vision is that “nations shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war anymore (Isaiah 2:4).” The peace of the Kingdom of Heaven is what stands as the promise. God’s order will be established. Every knee shall bow and every tongue confess. And that is not some Star Trek Borg like forced compliance – “Resistance is futile.” No, that is the desire of nations. Peoples and Nations tired of war, tired of the disorder, tired of testing laws and finding them wanting at exactly the point they are needed. Tired of sin and its degradation. “Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord (Isaiah 2:3).” We are tired of war. May the LORD grant us his peace, his order. And then the King shall come.