Glimpses of God’s Dream
Luke 21:5-19, Isaiah 65:17-25
November 13, 2022
Emmanuel Baptist Church; Rev. Kathy Donley
Image: Hope George Frederick Watts, 1897
Blind Hope is seated on a globe, playing on a lyre which has all its strings broken except one. She bends her head to listen to the faint music.
Note: A recording of the worship service in which this sermon was preached may be found here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OtILqAkNjco
In the days of the Babylonian invasion in ancient Israel, houses were destroyed, crops were burnt as part of the enemy’s scorched earth policy and many people died before their time because of the war and the hunger and disease that followed. Others were carried off into captivity.
In the days of the Russian invasion in contemporary Ukraine, houses and buildings were destroyed in nightly bombings. Crops were burnt as part of a scorched earth policy. People died before their time. Others were taken away, tortured, disappeared.
Have you seen what has happened in Kherson, Ukaine? The headline in yesterday’s New York Times read Amid Joy in Kherson, a Humanitarian Disaster Looms. After 8 months of occupation, the Russians have withdrawn. The Ukrainian people are partying in the streets, dancing to the light of headlights and flashlights. They have endured and they are jubilant.
But there is no water, no electricity, no internet or cell phone service. Homes and buildings have been reduced to rubble. Medicine and food are in short supply. Land mines must be found and removed. Pretty soon, the Ukrainians’ joy may give way to despair. Future generations will likely still be dealing with the fall-out from this war.
That situation offers a snapshot into today’s scriptures. Isaiah is speaking to the grandchildren of those who suffered during the Babylonian conquest in Israel. They are the ones who have to unite a country divided by war, the ones who have to rebuild infrastructure and cope with generational trauma and poverty. And in the gospel, Jesus is speaking to those who will soon see the destruction of Jerusalem by the occupying Roman army. By the time, Luke’s gospel is written down, Jesus’ words are being circulated among those who have seen the temple reduced to rubble, many of whom have scattered in fear for their lives.
Can you imagine quoting Jesus to the people of Kherson right now?
“When you hear of wars and insurrections, do not be terrified”
Do not be terrified? -- Too late. They passed that stage a long time ago.
Can we imagine Isaiah speaking of idyllic peace to the ancient Israelites? One scholar describes the scene this way. “‘But, [Isaiah],’ we can hear the people complain, ‘how can we know that justice and peace will be restored when all we see is the victory of our adversaries while we continue to suffer humiliation and defeat? When you [tell us that] ‘The former things shall not be remembered or come to mind’, [are you seeing] something that we fail to see?’”
In response to that question, the scholar continues, “we can picture the prophet [Isaiah] closing his eyes, quietly reflecting, and then, after a period of silence, replying with poetry”[1]
for I am about to create Jerusalem as a joy,
and its people as a delight.
I will rejoice in Jerusalem, and delight in my people;
no more shall the sound of weeping be heard in it,
or the cry of distress.
No more shall there be in it
an infant that lives but a few days,
or an old person who does not live out a lifetime;
for one who dies at a hundred years
will be considered a youth,
and one who falls short of a hundred
will be considered accursed.
They shall build houses and inhabit them;
they shall plant vineyards and eat their fruit.
They shall not build and another inhabit;
they shall not plant and another eat;
for like the days of a tree shall the days of my people be,
and my chosen shall long enjoy the work of their hands.
Isaiah gives them glimpses of God’s dream, the sight of a healed future on its way. Glimpses of the new thing that God is creating: a deep well-being, a pervasive peace that the imagination-exhausted, hope-depleted people will have difficulty trusting and seeing for themselves.
Some of us are also running low on hope and imagination. We read Jesus’ words “Nation will rise again nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be great earthquakes, . famines, plagues . . .”
Yes, Jesus, we know. We got that part. When do we get to the good stuff, the healing and peace?
Have you noticed that Jesus almost never answers “when” questions? The disciples ask when Jesus return or when kingdom would be restored to Israel and Jesus says “only God knows.”
When the walls come tumbling down, Jesus says “do not be terrified.” When the world as you know it seems to be ending, “do not be terrified.” What an unhelpful, almost useless piece of advice. If you’re not afraid, you might not be paying attention.
But you know, being afraid is not really working. The fear-mongering and misinformation campaigns are dividing families and countries, escalating already tense relationships into actual violence, and changing the economy. Perhaps you’ve heard that in the new Twitter-verse where truth is entirely optional, a fake pharmaceutical account announced that insulin would be free from now on which led to the stock of the real pharmaceutical company immediately dropping by 5%.[2]
What we are seeing all over the world is the resurgence of authoritarianism by governments and self-appointed militias and even church leaders. This worldview suggests that some exceptional, extraordinary individuals are willing to make the tough calls that ordinary folks are too afraid to face. It is the worldview that conspiracy theories feed on. Jesus warns us that some like this will come in his name – “don’t be led astray” he says.
Tara Isabella Burton is a 30-something best-selling novelist and a Christian. In the current issue of The Hedgehog Review, she writes about the counter-narrative of hope. She suggests that we might be better off understanding ourselves as ordinary people whose lives are entwined with one another. Hope doesn’t sell newspapers or win political campaigns like fear does. Burton writes, “There is nothing very sexy about hope. Certainly, there is nothing sexy about grace. The idea that we might be redeemed by an act of love—a wordless affirmation of something beyond the paradigms through which we are capable of understanding ourselves—is, well, a little mawkish, a bit cringe.”[3]
Isaiah says that God is creating a new heavens and a new earth. God is creating with flawed materials. “This is not creation out of nothing; this is creation out of the chaos of human endeavors, of ruined environments and everything in between.” [4] The glimpse of the world that God desires is so counter-cultural. If only it could take hold among the conspiracy theorists.
A church historian, who is a friend and former teacher of mine, says that the radical love of Jesus has always been a part of Christianity. It is too integral to Jesus’ teaching to be extinguished, but he says it has always operated at the margins of our faith. We have compromised it and watered it down, so that we could fight against our enemies instead of praying for them. So that we could excite crowds and grow churches. So that we could win the doctrinal or political or denominational battles. He says “the clear teaching of Jesus has suffered the death of a thousand qualifications.”[5]
So let us be clear about the clear teaching of Jesus in this passage. Our calling in this moment is to keep dreaming God’s dream, to hold out for wholeness in a fragmented world, to be strong and courageous truth-tellers.
“Do not be terrified,” Jesus says, “when the earth shakes, and nations make war, and imposters preach alluring gospels of fear, resentment, and hatred. Don’t give in to despair. Don’t capitalize on chaos. Don’t neglect to bear witness. God is not where people often say God is. God doesn’t fear-monger. God doesn't sensationalize. God doesn’t thrive on human dread.”
“So avoid hasty, knee-jerk judgments. Be perceptive, not pious. Imaginative, not immature. Make peace, choose hope, cultivate patience, and incarnate love as the world reels and changes.”
“Expect things to get hard. And then expect them to get harder. Endure even when they do. Know that God is near, no matter what the world looks or feels like. Speak the truth, trusting that God’s Spirit is alive and present in our acts of bearing witness. Be faithful until the end” [6] because, as Grandma and Little Man say, “God is always, always, always love.”
[1] Paul Hanson, Isaiah 40–66: Interpretation Series, Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2012) p. 185
[2] https://www.forbes.com/sites/brucelee/2022/11/12/fake-eli-lilly-twitter-account-claims-insulin-is-free-stock-falls-43/?sh=6944c4d441a3
[3] https://hedgehogreview.com/issues/hope-itself/articles/on-hope-and-holy-fools
[4] Nelson Rivera in Feasting on the Word Year C, Volume 4, David Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, general editors, (Louisville: Westminster/John Knox Press, 2010) p. 292
[5] Alan Bean, The Gospel of Universal Compassion, November 9, 2022 at baptistnews.com
[6] For these powerful words, I am grateful to Debie Thomas at https://www.journeywithjesus.net/essays/2451-by-your-endurance