To honor a request from a few people this Sunday, December 4, here are my sermon notes (yes, they are notes, not a full article) based on the Isaiah 40:1-11 lectionary text:
There is an old Renaissance poem called “Two Pictures.” It goes roughly like this: Two pictures hung on the wall of an old Florentine hall. One of a beautiful child with an angel’s face and golden hair; To look at those eyes made you think of the very best of heaven...The other picture was of a twisted face… filled with lust, greed, and hate.
They sat side by side and told a story.
A youthful painter found one day, In the streets of Rome, a child at play, and, moved by its beauty, “He painted its face with a master hand On a canvas, radiant and grand.” Year after year it hung on his wall; it could always lift his spirits, make him dream of younger days, make him bright and thankful.
Through the years, he looked in many faces to try and find someone whose portrait he could paint to contrast with this beautiful picture. HE went to some of the worst places in the country…looking in houses of ill-repute, in the faces of the homeless, and finally in some of the worst prisons he could find. Finally, he saw the face he had searched for years. “He painted the face with a master hand On a canvas weird and wild but grand.”
The story then takes a disturbing twist…That pitiful wreck of a person…whose life was filled with crime and hate…who was shunned and homeless…Was the child that had played in the streets of Rome.
Have you ever been at a place in your life where you knew that you never should have gone in the first place? Have you ever found yourself filled with guilt and shame over the things that you have done or have failed to do? If so, you are not alone. The people of Israel could easily identify with this young man…They had been called and blessed by God in the best of times, and found themselves suffering the terrible consequences of their sin in the worst of times. They were hurting, they were broken, they longed to come home, but they didn’t know where to begin.
A missionary visited the St. Louis Silver School in the Philippines, where silversmiths are trained. They admired exquisite handiwork in the workshop and gift shop, and took home a souvenir--a pure silver money clip embellished with a distinctive design. He carried that clip for the next 24 years. One day it finally broke as he slipped a few bills into it. He had an opportunity to take the two pieces of the money clip back to the silver school in Baguio. One workman, about his age, asked if he could help me. The missionary showed him the pieces in his outstretched hand.
After examining the pieces for a minute or so, he looked up and said, "I designed this clip. I was the only one to make this design. I made all of these that were ever made."
The missionary asked, "Can you fix it?"
He said, "I designed it. I made it. Of course I can fix it!"
The place the people of Israel could begin was with the One who made them, who called them by name. Isaiah tells us that God sought to comfort the people, to make the way for them to return home straight and flat. All that they had to do was to cry out to God, and they were answered with arms that carried them close and gently led them home.
What about God has changed in the last 3000 years? Nothing…the grace, the love, the forgiveness continue to be extended for all who will come…
Marti McDougal is a pastor in Pomona, Kansas. Her 5-year-old son Riley came running into the kitchen one day all full of excitement and discovery. A puzzle nut, he had just finished another of his puzzles when a "revelation" came to him. "I figured it out, Momma!" he announced.
"What did you figure out?" his mother inquired.
"I figured out that you use your hands to put a puzzle together, and you use Jesus to put your heart together."
God knows the hard places in our lives…God knows about all of the things that weigh us down, that we would be mortified if others knew about us…God extends an open invitation for us to return home…to be comforted…to receive the peace and joy that we celebrate this time of year.
What do we need to do…the answer is quite simple…so simple that even a young child can tell us…What do we do when we have hurt someone playing on the playground and want to make things right? We say that we’re sorry and work to show that we are sorry by the things that we say and do from that point forward.
Where do we begin to come home to God? We begin where we did on the playground…we say that we’re sorry and seek to change, and be changed, from this point forward.
The difference between us and the youngest ones on the playground is age…we know more, have more experience…we also struggle with why we have done things – it’s no longer a simple, oops, I didn’t mean to do that – now we sin intentionally…and the things we have done go far beyond a playground squabble. We have hurt, anger, grief and pain that are deep and that can stay with us for years. It makes it hard for us to come home to God…to return to the one that is calling to us…What will we do when we have to see God face to face? Will we find forgiveness or will God say, “I cannot forgive THAT!”?
Bill Welsh, a pastor in Desert Hot Springs, California, had a child in his congregation who was subject to sudden seizures. These seizures were violent and painful, not only for the child but also for the parents and those who witnessed the child's suffering.
"The father and child would come to church regularly and the father's practice was to hold the child. One Sunday morning in the midst of worship, the child was seized [and] writhed painfully ... The father lifted him compassionately, carried him ... to the back of the sanctuary, where he stood still rocking the child tenderly, speaking to him gently until finally the seizure relented ... There was no sign of embarrassment or frustration on the father's face, only love for the hurting child.
And then Welsh said, 'In that moment, while I was preaching, I was preached to. I heard God speak to my heart and say, "That's the way I love you through your imperfections. I'm not embarrassed to have people know that you are my child."'"
-Bob Olmstead, Reno, Nevada, 30 August 1992.
Our life’s journeys may embarrass us at points, but they do not embarrass God. We may feel like we are unlovable, but we are the ones that God loved enough to send Jesus to die on the cross.
Whatever our hurt,
Whatever our grief,
Whatever our burden,
Whatever our distress and pain.
God cried out to us to bring us comfort and healing.
And that’s the cry we all need to hear…
