It's time for joy and hope
Commentary
After many weeks of heavy judgment texts we may all be ready to shout, "Give me a break!" This day, traditionally known as Gaudete Sunday, is exactly what we need. It's a day of respite, a time to pause for a shout of joy, a time to remember that in the darkest and heaviest of times God breaks through with a word of hope.
Isaiah, as we learned from the lesson two weeks ago, had every reason to be pessimistic. Little had turned out as they had hoped for the returnees from Exile. And what is a prophet's task in such times? It is to speak words of comfort and hope.
This text was clearly formative for Jesus' self-understanding. He uses allusions to Isaiah 61 to assure John in prison that he is indeed the Promised One of God (Matthew 11:2-6; Luke 7:18-23). And in his self-disclosure at Nazareth, Jesus again uses Isaiah's prophecy to announce his own mission. Its themes are also integral to the word of hope and joy from Mary, the Mother of Jesus, when she sings her Magnificat.
At the heart of the word from Isaiah is joy and hope for those who have little reason for either. There is Good News that God has not forgotten them. But what is Good News for them is bad news for those who oppress them. Joy and justice are intertwined. There can be no joy unless justice reigns. And God's promise is that the downtrodden will not be forgotten. God will see to it that they are vindicated. The "good news to the oppressed, liberty to the captives, comfort for those who mourn" -- that day is also "the day of vengeance of our God." "Here is joy," writes William Willimon, "that derives not from a positive psychological assessment of ourselves, but rather because God has intruded." (William Willimon, Proclamation, Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1989, p. 22.)
1 Thessalonians 5:16-24
At times Paul can construct sentences and paragraphs that test us to the limit with their complexity. At other times he can set out his thoughts in such crisp and succinct phrases that a single verse brims over with a flood of good counsel. This lesson falls into the latter category. It is what Barclay calls, "A chain of jewels of good advice."
It begins with three very concise words of advice: "Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances." Like three major points of a sermon, these will be remembered by beleaguered Christians in Thessalonica. When they get discouraged they will recall what Paul told them to do. As they put that good counsel into practice, it will inevitably help them to endure whatever persecution they encounter. "Awareness of the seriousness of the times and the risks of faith," writes Donald Juel, "do not require humorless, lifeless piety. The redeemed have reason to rejoice and give thanks. God's gracious adoption makes possible a realistic piety that sees to the core of things and enables God's children to embrace life in its fullness." (Donald Juel, 1 Thessalonians, Augsburg Commentary, Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1985, p. 249.)
It is also well to note that Paul lifts up the office of prophetic ministry in these final words to the believers at Thessalonica. Like their brothers and sisters in Corinth, there seems to be a tendency in this congregation to drift toward the more esoteric side of the faith. There is much rejoicing in the gifts they have received and there is a good deal of speculation about things to come. Paul sees that they need to give consideration to the "bread and butter" side of the faith. And that means careful attention to the on-going, week-in, week-out proclamation of the Word of the Gospel. Some may sit around congratulating themselves on their obvious gifts of the Spirit and speculating about the coming of Christ. But those who see the whole picture of how God works will understand that hope for tomorrow cannot be detached from the responsibility for today.
At a time when we are being pulled into the Christmas season, like it or not, there is much joy and expectation. But studies also confirm that this is a time when depression and disillusionment are at their peak. Disheartened and discouraged believers need to be pointed to the sure word of hope we have in Christ.
John 1:6-8, 19-28
A sense of time pervades the Advent season. But it is not ordinary time that we must think about. It is well to recall again the biblical distinction between "chronos" and "kairos." John the Baptist has a profound sense of the latter. He knows that the coming of the Promised One of God is no ordinary event. He senses in the depth of his being that he has been called and set apart for a "kairos" time. This event is linked with all events, past and present.
It is also well to recall that this Gospel is being written many decades after the events happened. Indeed, these may be the last words of the New Testament to be written. Thus, John the Apostle has the advantage of sitting down to see things from a perspective that could not have been completely clear to the other John, the Baptist.
As in the case of Mark from last week's gospel lesson, John the Apostle skips the birth stories and genealogies and moves immediately to the appearance of John the Baptist. He wants to go directly to the crux of the matter -- the dawning of the Kingdom of God. This is indeed "kairos" time, an event by which all events, before and after, will be measured. All of history pivots on this one thing -- the coming of Jesus Christ.
We tend to think of John the Baptist's mission in judgmental and somewhat negative terms. And surely his message is heavy with such language. But a closer look at today's lesson helps us understand why it is an appropriate word for a day when we want to accent joy and hope. There is darkness in his word, yet he "came as a witness to testify to the light" (v. 7). When attention seems to coalesce around him, John turns the focus on Jesus. If his message seems harsh at times, it is only because he wants the people to be ready to experience the full joy that will be theirs when the Messiah comes.
Suggestions For Preaching
At a time when there is so much attention to individual piety and a personal relationship with Christ -- which are surely legitimate -- it may be well to spend time this Sunday on the larger picture. Yes, individuals are to be saved; but so is society. We are inclined to withdraw into our little enclaves we call "congregations" or "churches" and talk about being "saved from sin," without a great deal of thought given to God's concern for the whole human family. This is a day to preach not only about the birth of the new individual, but the birth of a new world. Think this day of the oppressed of the world. What word of hope and joy do we have for them? How can our own joyful anticipation of the coming of Christ -- in his birth and in his coming again -- become a word of comfort to a suffering world today?
FIRST LESSON FOCUS
By James A. Nestingen
Isaiah 61:1-4, 8-11
Not a lesson for the laid back or the careful, intent on protecting the integrity of Advent, this one overflows with an ecstatic hopefulness which already partakes of what has been promised. Isaiah is in every sense of the term beside himself with joy. In fact, there's so much Christmas here that Easter itself comes into view.
Ernst Kasemann, the great exegete from Tubingen University, has argued that such ecstasy is a hallmark of the gospel. The hope it bestows begins to overpower restraint. Corinthians and Acts provide the clearest evidence, but there are other passages scattered through the New Testament signaling the presence of a community of people among whom such power got loose. Expectancy blurred the distinction between what has classically been called "the now and the not yet," bringing them to tiptoe if not into thin air.
Isaiah's ecstatic cry of hope shows the presence of the same spirit in the Old Testament. He manages to keep his feet on the ground, but just barely -- hope has got his heart in such a grip that it about carries him away.
Contact with everyday reality is evident in the references to the oppressed, the brokenhearted, the captives, the prisoners, and those who mourn. The course of the events can still bring a person into the ashes, grief and a sense of being at the limit. The arrival of hope in the wilderness hasn't taken away the wild edge of things.
But all of this -- signs for Christians of the continuing presence of Good Friday -- stands as contrast for Isaiah's hope. These rejects, the exiles led off in abject servitude; these homeless, rootless people who have lost their ties to land and the sights of sacred tradition; these brokenhearted who have lived on the edge of concession and compliance, blown alternatively between fear and servility; these very people shall be called "oaks of righteousness," God's stolid trunks of strength and fidelity.
From here, hope takes off. Faithful preacher that he is, Isaiah rejoices first in his office -- the indescribable exhilaration of being entrusted with the word of the gospel -- and then in the God whose speaking and calling has sent him. Then, exultant, radiant with expectancy, possessed by the good Lord and love for his people, Isaiah takes up the identity of Zion itself, speaking of himself as a bridegroom or a bride, a garden abloom (vv. 10-11). Here hope has lost its footing in the present; Advent has become Christmas; Good Friday, Easter. Sometimes hope just has to dance, no matter what the season.
Isaiah, as we learned from the lesson two weeks ago, had every reason to be pessimistic. Little had turned out as they had hoped for the returnees from Exile. And what is a prophet's task in such times? It is to speak words of comfort and hope.
This text was clearly formative for Jesus' self-understanding. He uses allusions to Isaiah 61 to assure John in prison that he is indeed the Promised One of God (Matthew 11:2-6; Luke 7:18-23). And in his self-disclosure at Nazareth, Jesus again uses Isaiah's prophecy to announce his own mission. Its themes are also integral to the word of hope and joy from Mary, the Mother of Jesus, when she sings her Magnificat.
At the heart of the word from Isaiah is joy and hope for those who have little reason for either. There is Good News that God has not forgotten them. But what is Good News for them is bad news for those who oppress them. Joy and justice are intertwined. There can be no joy unless justice reigns. And God's promise is that the downtrodden will not be forgotten. God will see to it that they are vindicated. The "good news to the oppressed, liberty to the captives, comfort for those who mourn" -- that day is also "the day of vengeance of our God." "Here is joy," writes William Willimon, "that derives not from a positive psychological assessment of ourselves, but rather because God has intruded." (William Willimon, Proclamation, Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1989, p. 22.)
1 Thessalonians 5:16-24
At times Paul can construct sentences and paragraphs that test us to the limit with their complexity. At other times he can set out his thoughts in such crisp and succinct phrases that a single verse brims over with a flood of good counsel. This lesson falls into the latter category. It is what Barclay calls, "A chain of jewels of good advice."
It begins with three very concise words of advice: "Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances." Like three major points of a sermon, these will be remembered by beleaguered Christians in Thessalonica. When they get discouraged they will recall what Paul told them to do. As they put that good counsel into practice, it will inevitably help them to endure whatever persecution they encounter. "Awareness of the seriousness of the times and the risks of faith," writes Donald Juel, "do not require humorless, lifeless piety. The redeemed have reason to rejoice and give thanks. God's gracious adoption makes possible a realistic piety that sees to the core of things and enables God's children to embrace life in its fullness." (Donald Juel, 1 Thessalonians, Augsburg Commentary, Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1985, p. 249.)
It is also well to note that Paul lifts up the office of prophetic ministry in these final words to the believers at Thessalonica. Like their brothers and sisters in Corinth, there seems to be a tendency in this congregation to drift toward the more esoteric side of the faith. There is much rejoicing in the gifts they have received and there is a good deal of speculation about things to come. Paul sees that they need to give consideration to the "bread and butter" side of the faith. And that means careful attention to the on-going, week-in, week-out proclamation of the Word of the Gospel. Some may sit around congratulating themselves on their obvious gifts of the Spirit and speculating about the coming of Christ. But those who see the whole picture of how God works will understand that hope for tomorrow cannot be detached from the responsibility for today.
At a time when we are being pulled into the Christmas season, like it or not, there is much joy and expectation. But studies also confirm that this is a time when depression and disillusionment are at their peak. Disheartened and discouraged believers need to be pointed to the sure word of hope we have in Christ.
John 1:6-8, 19-28
A sense of time pervades the Advent season. But it is not ordinary time that we must think about. It is well to recall again the biblical distinction between "chronos" and "kairos." John the Baptist has a profound sense of the latter. He knows that the coming of the Promised One of God is no ordinary event. He senses in the depth of his being that he has been called and set apart for a "kairos" time. This event is linked with all events, past and present.
It is also well to recall that this Gospel is being written many decades after the events happened. Indeed, these may be the last words of the New Testament to be written. Thus, John the Apostle has the advantage of sitting down to see things from a perspective that could not have been completely clear to the other John, the Baptist.
As in the case of Mark from last week's gospel lesson, John the Apostle skips the birth stories and genealogies and moves immediately to the appearance of John the Baptist. He wants to go directly to the crux of the matter -- the dawning of the Kingdom of God. This is indeed "kairos" time, an event by which all events, before and after, will be measured. All of history pivots on this one thing -- the coming of Jesus Christ.
We tend to think of John the Baptist's mission in judgmental and somewhat negative terms. And surely his message is heavy with such language. But a closer look at today's lesson helps us understand why it is an appropriate word for a day when we want to accent joy and hope. There is darkness in his word, yet he "came as a witness to testify to the light" (v. 7). When attention seems to coalesce around him, John turns the focus on Jesus. If his message seems harsh at times, it is only because he wants the people to be ready to experience the full joy that will be theirs when the Messiah comes.
Suggestions For Preaching
At a time when there is so much attention to individual piety and a personal relationship with Christ -- which are surely legitimate -- it may be well to spend time this Sunday on the larger picture. Yes, individuals are to be saved; but so is society. We are inclined to withdraw into our little enclaves we call "congregations" or "churches" and talk about being "saved from sin," without a great deal of thought given to God's concern for the whole human family. This is a day to preach not only about the birth of the new individual, but the birth of a new world. Think this day of the oppressed of the world. What word of hope and joy do we have for them? How can our own joyful anticipation of the coming of Christ -- in his birth and in his coming again -- become a word of comfort to a suffering world today?
FIRST LESSON FOCUS
By James A. Nestingen
Isaiah 61:1-4, 8-11
Not a lesson for the laid back or the careful, intent on protecting the integrity of Advent, this one overflows with an ecstatic hopefulness which already partakes of what has been promised. Isaiah is in every sense of the term beside himself with joy. In fact, there's so much Christmas here that Easter itself comes into view.
Ernst Kasemann, the great exegete from Tubingen University, has argued that such ecstasy is a hallmark of the gospel. The hope it bestows begins to overpower restraint. Corinthians and Acts provide the clearest evidence, but there are other passages scattered through the New Testament signaling the presence of a community of people among whom such power got loose. Expectancy blurred the distinction between what has classically been called "the now and the not yet," bringing them to tiptoe if not into thin air.
Isaiah's ecstatic cry of hope shows the presence of the same spirit in the Old Testament. He manages to keep his feet on the ground, but just barely -- hope has got his heart in such a grip that it about carries him away.
Contact with everyday reality is evident in the references to the oppressed, the brokenhearted, the captives, the prisoners, and those who mourn. The course of the events can still bring a person into the ashes, grief and a sense of being at the limit. The arrival of hope in the wilderness hasn't taken away the wild edge of things.
But all of this -- signs for Christians of the continuing presence of Good Friday -- stands as contrast for Isaiah's hope. These rejects, the exiles led off in abject servitude; these homeless, rootless people who have lost their ties to land and the sights of sacred tradition; these brokenhearted who have lived on the edge of concession and compliance, blown alternatively between fear and servility; these very people shall be called "oaks of righteousness," God's stolid trunks of strength and fidelity.
From here, hope takes off. Faithful preacher that he is, Isaiah rejoices first in his office -- the indescribable exhilaration of being entrusted with the word of the gospel -- and then in the God whose speaking and calling has sent him. Then, exultant, radiant with expectancy, possessed by the good Lord and love for his people, Isaiah takes up the identity of Zion itself, speaking of himself as a bridegroom or a bride, a garden abloom (vv. 10-11). Here hope has lost its footing in the present; Advent has become Christmas; Good Friday, Easter. Sometimes hope just has to dance, no matter what the season.
