This sermon was first shared at St Denys Evington on 03.04.22, the 5th Sunday of Lent. A recording of the sermon is available here.
Isaiah is one of my favourite books in the Bible. Now, I know that I say something similar about almost every passage I preach on, but Isaiah has a particular draw for me, that constantly brings me back to the rich tapestry I find in it. The reason is that that tapestry is a tapestry of realistic hope.
Hope because Isaiah consistently reminds the people of Israel of the LORD, and His character of
goodness and righteousness, mercy and faithfulness, and the hope that comes from knowing the LORD.
Realistic because Isaiah is honest, often brutally so, about Israel’s sin and failure to be the people
they were called to be as God’s chosen people, and the consequences of that.
A tapestry because a tapestry is a beautiful wall hanging created by weaving coloured warp threads
through a plain-coloured weft.
Isaiah is a tapestry created from wefts of realism woven with the
brightly coloured warp of hope. In many ways Isaiah is a small part of the tapestry of the whole
Bible, which tells the story of humanity, through which we understand the tapestries of our own lives, which through God’s Spirit at work in us, can become tapestries of realistic hope.
This section of Isaiah contrasts God’s mercy with Israel’s unfaithfulness. We join the passage as God speaks through Isaiah to remind Israel of who He is, taking the people back to the foundation event of their history – the parting of the Red Sea. This opening sets the foundation for the promise that follows. Something new is coming, like water in the wilderness, like streams in the wasteland. In this
part of the tapestry we are seeing the coloured warp, the reading stops before we glimpse the weft.
The section immediately after our reading is the weft – the reality of Israel’s circumstance
because of their sin and failure. The LORD tells Israel, “you have burdened me with your sins and
wearied me with your offenses.” And yet… immediately, hope returns, God declaring, “I, even I, am he who blots out your transgressions, for my own sake, and remembers your sins no more.”
I wonder...
Who would you be more likely to trust to keep their promises: someone whom you have known for years, and have seen what they’ve done in the past and know their character, or someone you don’t know so well?
This part of Isaiah is written to the Israelites in exile in Babylon, so these verses not only remind
them of who God is, they also assure them of hope for a future of freedom. By remembering that
God has done it before, they can be more confident that God will do something similar again now.
God is unchanging, and yet, Isaiah’s prophecy is that God is “doing a new thing”, and Israel is
commanded not to dwell on the past. The theologian Alec Motyer puts it quite a catchy way – “The
LORD is revealed in the past, but he is always more than the past revealed.” – God always has greater things in store, for Israel and for His people now – you and me, not just in terms of circumstances, but also our relationship with Him.
This passage could first be read as giving a promise of the end of exile, a change to the practical
circumstances that the people of God find themselves in. That is all true, God can, and does, bring
about changes to people’s practical circumstances. But the bigger tapestry of the whole Bible shows us that the historical story Isaiah refers to, of the oppression in Egypt, The Exodus and arrival in the Promised Land, and the historical story He is speaking into, of sin and failure resulting in exile and the restoration and return from exile are both patterns of a bigger story. A story of sin and failure across the whole of humanity resulting
in a broken relationship with our loving Creator, which is restored through the incarnation, death
and resurrection of God Himself, in Jesus Christ. A story of redemption which belongs to each one of us who has accepted Jesus Christ as Lord. In Christ, we have freedom from our sins and failures, even when we’ve totally let God down, because in Christ God is doing a new thing. He’s providing water in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland, giving drink to His people, whom He formed for
Himself, so that we may proclaim His praise.
Wilderness and wasteland are not places you expect to find water or streams to drink and for
refreshment. Another reminder of the Exodus, when God provided water from rocks, food from the heavens and sustained and refreshed His people, the promise of water in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland is a promise that God can do what no one else can.
He can transform even the most hopeless of cases, those that others might write off. If you feel that you are beyond help, you are not. If you feel or think that you would write yourself off, God does not, and will not write you off. Whatever has happened in the past, done to you or done by you, whatever the reality of
your life, God is doing a new thing, and He will bring water in the wilderness and streams in the
wasteland. Even, or perhaps especially, if that seems impossible to you. God is weaving you, your own tapestry of realistic hope.
I’d like to share with you a testimony from someone who has found this promise to be true:
As you finish, you might want to pray this prayer, and spend some time waiting on God:
Come Holy Spirit, bring water in the wasteland and streams in the desert, do a new thing in our lives. Restore what seems irreparably broken, reconcile relationships that seem shattered and bring healing to our lives, that we may proclaim your praise. Amen.
repairerofwalls 