Between the Windows: Thoroughly Good News
A homily for the third week of Advent
Isaiah 61:1-4, 8-11
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;to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor,
and the day of vengeance of our God;
to comfort all who mourn;to provide for those who mourn in Zion—
to give them a garland instead of ashes,the oil of gladness instead of mourning,
the mantle of praise instead of a faint spirit.They will be called oaks of righteousness,
the planting of the Lord, to display his glory.They shall build up the ancient ruins,
they shall raise up the former devastations;they shall repair the ruined cities,
the devastations of many generations.For I the Lord love justice,
I hate robbery and wrongdoing;I will faithfully give them their recompense,
and I will make an everlasting covenant with them.Their descendants shall be known among the nations,
and their offspring among the peoples;all who see them shall acknowledge
that they are a people whom the Lord has blessed.I will greatly rejoice in the LORD,
my whole being shall exult in my God;for he has clothed me with the garments of salvation,
he has covered me with the robe of righteousness,as a bridegroom decks himself with a garland,
and as a bride adorns herself with her jewels.For as the earth brings forth its shoots,
and as a garden causes what is sown in it to spring up,so the Lord God will cause righteousness and praise
to spring up before all the nations.
A few years ago, my grandmother had a very significant health scare. I was living in the UK at the time, receiving frequent updates from my mom about how she was doing. When she was intubated in the ICU, I knew it was time for me to fly from London where I was still wearing sweaters in the cool May air, to Texas, needing to dig out more breathable clothing for my son and me to wear when we got there. My husband rode with us on the train into London and we said our goodbyes at Paddington Station. We boarded the plane, and I wondered what might happen to my grandmother while I was on that ten-hour flight. What news would I have of her when we landed in Dallas?
To be honest, the details between my flight and the days that followed are a little foggy. I was jet lagged and sleep deprived, parenting a toddler, and seeing family I hadn’t seen in years. She did come off the breathing machine, though, and I was able to surprise her with a visit. They told her a nice chaplain wanted to come in and say hi. I approached my grandma’s bed, and I said hello, and gave her a kiss. She looked up and recognized me, saying, “Janette!?” She had what is known as ICU delirium, and she struggled to know what day it was, where she was, and who was with her, but the joy on her face when she recognized me is a treasure I do hold in my memories.
She looked in my face and puckered up her lips for a kiss. She asked me what day it was, then expressed such excitement at being able to see my son, her great grandson, when she was moved to a regular room in the days to come. We cried together for a few moments, and then I had the joy of serving my grandparents and family communion for the first time in my tenure as a minister. My uncles and aunts crowded into the room with us to share in the sacrament together. For that precious moment, our mourning turned to dancing, and hope for the future came more easily.
This was an experience of joy in an in-between time. My grandmother’s future was no longer as uncertain as it was before, but she was far from recovered. Our readings today were written from a similar context; the people of Israel had experienced exile and destruction and were working to rebuild something of their community and their hope. These words from Isaiah served as a balm of promised joy during their waiting.
This text, like the rest of scripture, was written with a particular context in mind. Often we make the mistake of going to scripture and extrapolate stories and promises made for that time and place to make it speak to our time and place. Scholar John Walton helpfully addresses this confusion by saying that scripture wasn’t written to us in our context now, but it was written for us, and so has truth and meaning for us to explore and understand even if we were not its original intended audience.
Isaiah 61 describes restoration as good news for the oppressed. God’s people were in between exile but not yet fully restored. In this period, what did the Spirit of the Lord anoint Isaiah to proclaim as people were living in the tension of what has been and what is to come? Liberty, debt cancellation, comfort, provision, strength, restoration of what has been destroyed, justice, faithful generosity, and salvation.
What, then, does good news look like for the people of our day, as we live in middle places of our own—places between sickness and healing, violence and peace, brokenness and repair. Isaiah makes it clear that if what we are confessing, sharing, and doing in the name of God is not good news for the oppressed, the poor, the mourning, the imprisoned, and the indebted, it is not good news.
The good news is not simply a pat on the back, or a throw away comment offering false assurances of “Keep your chin up,” or “Try harder,” or “God blesses those who work for it.” Instead, our life’s testimony to the good news is active and benefits those who are most in need and most marginalized in our world. Spreading the good news is not merely an evangelical act; we are not meant to goad people into a salvation that keeps them from some fiery eternity. Instead, we are accepting the call of Christ and taking on our responsibility as light bearers. We are to make choices and live in such a way that ushers in the purposes of God’s kingdom in our lives now. We are saved for this time and this place, and not only from an eternity of suffering.
Perhaps you have heard the phrase “The Great Reversal” in reference to the Gospel. God is here to turn our understanding of things upside down. The first shall be last. The poor shall inherit the Kingdom. Ruined cities shall be repaired. Prisoners will be released. Debts will be cancelled. Weapons will be turned into plowshares. God’s joy will be ever-present. This message is core to all of scripture, Old and New Testaments alike. We need not take Isaiah’s message as a literal prophecy for our own day to see that God is in the business of restoration. And as we live in this in between time where things have been destroyed, and we are tempted toward division in every sphere of our lives, God came then and comes to us now to remind us that the path forward toward restoration and hope is found through good news that is truly good for all and not only a few.
On this third Sunday of Advent, the week we light the pink candle of joy, we are heartened to remember that God keeps God’s promises. God brings restoration. There is hope in the tension of the middle. We have seen what has been, and we believe in what is to come. We bear the light and respond to God’s call to enact God’s redemption here and now. And like Mary in the Magnificat, we respond with joy at God’s faithfulness.
My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord,
my spirit rejoices in God my Savior; *
for he has looked with favor on his lowly servant.
From this day all generations will call me blessed: *
the Almighty has done great things for me, and holy is his Name.
He has mercy on those who fear him *
in every generation.
He has shown the strength of his arm, *
he has scattered the proud in their conceit.
He has cast down the mighty from their thrones, *
and has lifted up the lowly.
He has filled the hungry with good things, *
and the rich he has sent away empty.
He has come to the help of his servant Israel, *
for he has remembered his promise of mercy,
The promise he made to our fathers, *
to Abraham and his children for ever.
Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit: *
as it was in the beginning, is now, and will be for ever. Amen.
About the art & artist:
"When I read through the Magnificat, I was overwhelmed with the gravity of this moment. Her reaction to finding out that she, a young virgin, would birth the Son of the Creator of the universe was to sing a song of overflowing praise affirming God’s goodness and sovereignty. It seems as if the entire universe revolved on the axis of this moment. Her song carried me to the creation narrative where God’s very words materialize water and sky and light and animals and people… everything we know to be and will ever know. As I read the Magnificat, I imagined that her tones of adoration, melody of acceptance, and rhythm of awe ushered in the heartbeat of Jesus within her womb. Mary’s song became the score for anew creation narrative. In this piece, I imaged all of creation embracing Mary in this moment as the creation narrative echoes in her womb."
Lauren is an artist, graphic designer, and theologian. She studied Media Design at Middle Tennessee State University, worked as a wetlands advocate in Southern Louisiana, and attended Columbia Theological Seminary to piece together her passions for artistic expression, design, and Creation Care.
While in seminary, Lauren found a passion for seeking after God and processing scripture through visual exploration. The visual arts offered her a holy space to ask questions, take risks, and make bold statements. Her paint brush, acrylic paints, sharpies, and colored pencils became mediums for liberation, helping set her voice free. Once she began this journey in visual self expression, she became determined to create spaces where others could find this freedom and find their own voice, whether it be in the act of creating, in liturgical arts, or in visual meditative practices like Visio Divina.
While at Columbia, she also realized her background in graphic design was a great asset in ministry. In the midst of the Church's struggle for relevancy in a rapidly changing world, she saw the need for faith communities, ministries and non-profits to share their story and mission more effectively and fully through visual means.
She is Founding Creative Partner & Branding Director for A Sanctified Art LLC, a collaborative arts ministry providing multimedia resources for worshiping communities. She also helps faith communities and non-profits share their vibrant stories through branding & design services.
[from: http://www.lewpstudio.com/about]