Pastor Dan Mangler's Sunday Sermon

More Than Comfort, Hope

Isaiah 61: 1-4, 8-11

December 11, 2005

More Than Comfort, Hope

Two weeks ago we began the Advent season with the word and mood of anticipation. Last week we were blessed with a message of promise that was given by our Sunday school. Today’s Advent word is hope.

Hope is so vital to everything that Martin Luther once wrote: "Everything that is done in the world is done by hope. No (farmer) would sow one grain of corn if he hoped not that it would grow and become seed; no bachelor would marry a wife if he hoped not to have children; no merchant or tradesman would see himself work if he did not hope to reap benefit thereby."

Hope is one of my favorite four-letter words, second only to love. Hope has a uniquely Christian quality. Christian hope is not an iffy hope, like I hope I win the lottery. Christian hope is a confident hope based on the promises of God.

St. Paul, in 1 Thessalonians today, captures that mood shortly and succinctly; "Rejoice always, for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you." We can rejoice “always” because there is always hope. In John's gospel, John the Baptist proclaims hope by bearing witness to the coming Messiah who will be a light shining through the world's darkness. But it is Isaiah today who speaks that word of hope with such clarity of speech and distinctiveness of vision: "The spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me; he has sent me to bring good news to the oppressed, to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to the prisoners..."

Those who first heard these words from Isaiah sensed that God was doing something new. The book of Isaiah begins with God's word of judgment. Israel would be punished for her sins, punishment that would be defeat in battle and exile in a foreign land. The next words of God would be words of comfort. They may be a people defeated and exiled, but not abandoned. God would be with them in their misery. Now comes a new word. God promises something more. In place of comfort he now promises hope. He no longer just shares in the misery of captivity; he promises release. He is no longer satisfied with living with his people in exile; he promises to lead them home. He is no longer content to be the God of a people thankful for his presence in time of trouble; God intends to be a God of a people who rejoice over his deliverance from all trouble. "The spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because he has anointed me; he has sent me to bring good news...".

These words of Isaiah come to a people militarily defeated and politically oppressed, and so the hope that God promises is a reversal of those circumstances. They will be released from their captivity. They will be led home and given back their own land. But the hope that God promises here in Isaiah, while specific, is not restricted. It is not necessary to be a people militarily defeated and politically oppressed to share in the hope of these words. The message of Isaiah that transcends circumstances and bridges time is this: however you are oppressed, however you are brokenhearted, however you are a captive, God promises to lift what oppresses you, to heal your broken heart, and to lead you out of captivity to freedom.

You don't have to lose to a military power to be oppressed. To be oppressed simply means to occupy a place of weakness in the presence of a power that restricts what you can do or limits who or what you can become. We are victims of many oppressors.

Some look at their jobs as oppressive. Work, far from being a means of expressing who they are or providing a means of personal growth, places harsh demands on time and energy. Instead of work flowing out of who the person is, work shapes and defines who the person is.

Others find their mental or physical limitations oppressive. They are not free to become a doctor because they aren't smart enough, or a pilot because they aren't tall enough, or a model because they aren't good looking enough.

Still others find their economic position oppressive. Because of financial limitations, they can't live where they want to live, they can't buy what they want to buy, or they can't give to a loved one what they want to give.

To those who are oppressed, for any reason, Isaiah writes, "The spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me; he has sent me to bring good news to the oppressed." And the good news is this that God is not satisfied to sit with you in your oppression. He means to lift that burden, to give you new eyes that see what God is doing in your life. For those who lay their job's oppression before him God reminds, "You are not defined by what you do; you are defined by whose you are. You are mine." For those who lay their mental or physical limitations before God as oppressive God declares that you are not limited by what you know or what you look like, but, in the words of St. Paul, "I can do all things in (Christ) who strengthens me." To those who feel oppressed by their economic position God assures that he will provide for your every need.

You don't have to be exiles in a foreign land to be brokenhearted. Hearts are broken when something someone treasures is taken away or when a person who someone loves is lost. A person is fired and is heart broken for the loss of self-esteem. A person is divorced and is broken hearted over the loss of a relationship. A person dies, and the one who mourns is broken hearted over the loss of the company of a loved one. As humans we can sympathize, i.e. feel sorry for; or we can empathize, i.e. we can feel sorrow with, but either way we humans, confronted by a broken heart, are limited to the work of comfort. We can only bandage broken hearts. But God promises to do more than share our hurt; he promises to take hurt away. God promises more than comfort; he promises joy. God promises to do more than bandage broken hearts; he promises to mend them. In the words of Isaiah, God promises, "to give them a garland instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the mantle of praise instead of a faint spirit."

And you don't have to wear chains or be imprisoned behind bars to be a captive. If being captive means not being free to do the things we want to do or be the person we want to be, then we are a church-full of captives. Some of us are captives to addictions: alcohol, drugs, sex, or food, consuming these things not because we want to but because we have to. Some of us are captives to approval: the need for approval from peers which causes us to do things we would not otherwise do, or the need for approval from society which causes us to pursue things we wouldn't otherwise pursue. We do things not because we want to do them, but because we have to do them.

But God is not satisfied to come visit us in our prisons. He comes to take us by the hand and lead us to freedom. Isaiah's word of hope promises a God who comes "proclaiming liberty to the captives, and release to the prisoners."

The audience for this Advent text from Isaiah are the afflicted, the brokenhearted, the captives, those in prison, and mourners. In short, his audience is your average December congregation. The people to whom these words are addressed are those who came to church this morning out of a fervently burning need to hear a word of hope. To them, to you, comes this promise. God is not content to be the God of a people thankful for his presence in time of trouble; God intends to be a God of a people who rejoice over his deliverance from all trouble. To those who come out of a fervently burning need to hear a word of hope this morning, Isaiah writes, "The spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because he has anointed me; he has sent me to bring good news..."

May the peace of God that passes all understanding keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus. Amen.