Jane was in her sixties, looking
forward to the time when her husband finally retired and they could begin to do
more things together. They lived in a remote Norfolk village without even a
shop, with almost no bus service and with no other means of public transport,
but thankfully, they had their own car. Jane had never learned to drive, but
with Raymond around all the time, life should be sweet.
A year or so
before Raymond's retirement, Jane began to notice the sensation of having a
black cloud hanging over her. She had no idea what it was about, but had a kind
of awful foreboding which she assumed was to do with their daughter Jessica,
who was married and lived away. Despite the fear, nothing happened, so Jane
tried to shrug off the uncomfortable feeling, but it wouldn't go away. It was
if she was waiting for something dire to happen, although she didn't know what
that might be.
Towards the end of the year and just before he retired,
Raymond suddenly told Jane that he was leaving her. They had been married for
thirty-four years but he had fallen in love again, with Jane's best friend, as
it happened. So Jane, a non-driver in her sixties who had never worked since
she was married, was left alone with no form of income and in a village without
even a shop. The black cloud had come to rest with a vengeance.
We
humans seem to spend a lot of our time waiting. Sometimes, like Jane, we wait
for something awful to happen; for a loved one to die, or to receive a
redundancy notice, or to discover all the money has run out and we're deeply in
debt, or for a divorce to come through or for a relationship to break up. But
at other times we wait for something wonderful to happen; a new birth, a new
job, a marriage, a pay rise, a holiday. Then very often the feeling is, "I
can't wait!" This particularly true of children, who spend much of their
childhood longing for something wonderful like their birthday or Christmas, or
to be a year older!
Perhaps the natural rhythm of human life is periods
of waiting interspersed by either something terrific or something terrible. And
when those crisis points are eventually past, we move again into a waiting
period until the next crisis point. Maybe we need to learn to live in the
present so that we can really enjoy the quiet times and develop sufficient
inner strength to cope with the crises when they occur.
The life of a
nation follows a similar pattern, but often the pattern is more pronounced. In
our own country we sometimes seem to lurch from crisis to crisis, from war to
war, patching up the problems with sticking plaster but unable to go in for the
sort of long-term planning which might prevent the crises in the first
place.
It was no different in the days of the third Isaiah, five
centuries or so before Jesus was born. The book of Isaiah spans some two
hundred years, so was written by more than one person. Today's reading comes
from the last part of the book, which was probably written not by a single
person, but by disciples of the second Isaiah, some time after the Israelites
returned from exile in Babylon. It's part of a community lament which describes
God's wonderful past deeds, confesses Israel's sin, bemoans the disappearance
of God and appeals to God to return and help.
The prophet calls upon
God to reveal himself in amazing and terrifying ways, like earthquake and fire.
He says this:
O that you would tear open the heavens and come down, so that the mountains would quake at your presence-- as when fire kindles brushwood and the fire causes water to boil-- to make your name known to your adversaries, so that the nations might tremble at your presence! When you did awesome deeds that we did not expect, you came down, the mountains quaked at your presence.
There was no question that natural disasters such as earthquakes were seen in the ancient world as the hand of God, but fire was especially associated with the presence of the Almighty. Moses met God by the burning bush, God led the Israelites through the wilderness by fire and smoke, Elijah called down fire from heaven to defeat the prophets of Baal, and in the New Testament, fire alights on the heads of the disciples at Pentecost, anointing them for God's work.
The people were in a waiting period. They had returned from exile so the really dark time was over, but it was a kind of limbo. What should they do now? Where was God? Was God still around and would God lead them? Or had God disappeared for good when all the people disappeared to Babylon?
A waiting time can be an uncomfortable time, for we don't know what is going to happen. Life is full of uncertainty and it's difficult to make plans since we can't predict what is likely to happen in the future.
Waiting for a new baby - will it be a boy or a girl? Will it be alright? What will I do? How will I cope?
Waiting through the last years and months of the life of an elderly family member - will they die soon? Will they become ill? Will they need to move into a home? Will they require nursing care? Shall I have to give up my job to look after them?
Waiting to hear test results - am I seriously ill? Might I die? Can I be treated? Will treatment be painful?
Waiting to hear about exam results or a new job - have I passed? Did I make it? Will my future change? And so on.
In such situations where there is no certainty, it would be good to have the certainty of God's presence. But as the Israelites found, we may not be given that comfort. Perhaps God gives us waiting times in order to strengthen our faith, for faith is particularly necessary in times of uncertainty. And sometimes the wait ends in darkness before the dawning of the light. The Israelites had to wait another 500 years before the Messiah eventually came.
Jane, left alone by her husband, had to wait two or three years before fantastic neighbours moved in next door and struck up a very close relationship with her, a relationship which was warm and rewarding and secure for all of them.
Although we may not be aware of his presence, for all of us God is there through the waiting time, for God never lets us down. Let us use our waiting times to rest on God's love and absorb his presence.
