Advent Midweek III

Advent Midweek III: “Advent with the Prophet Isaiah: The Ransomed of the LORD”

December 18, 2019

Text: Isaiah 35:1-10

            The August soil was parched and cracked in Wauneta, Nebraska, where my new bride and I were received for a potluck meal and big doings on our way through to the seminary for my fourth year.  St. Paul’s had supported me all through school, as their current pastor had been my Confirmation pastor, taught me the Scriptures and the Catechism.  I wanted to be just like Pastor Wellman.  Well, there was joy in the air that summer evening, but also a wisp of anxiety.  Drought.  For several years now.  To hear Pastor tell it, there were plenty of storms, but they hopped over Wauneta in favor of the Eastern part of the state.  The farmers’ wives still put on a spread like only Lutheran Church farmers’ wives can.  And there were speeches, and there was singing, and we didn’t notice it at first, that all the men had disappeared from the Church basement.  Where had they gone, and why?  The wives knew.  Pastor Wellman knew.  But two-generations-removed-from-farming Seminarian Krenz didn’t have a clue.   And then I heard it.  The rumble.  It was a good distance away, but the sound was unmistakeable.  The farmers were gathered on the Church lawn, staring up at the approaching black shelf and flashes of light.  They were silent, but you know they were praying.  Please, Lord.  Water the earth.  Make the dry land glad.  Grant the fields growth and fruitfulness.  Help us.  Save us.  Farmers, God bless ‘em, live by faith. 

            When the Word of God is preached, it is water breaking forth in the wilderness and streams in the desert.  Luther compared the preaching of the Gospel to a rain shower.  The burning sand becomes a pool and the thirsty ground springs of water.  For spiritually, we live in a parched and barren wasteland.  The desert, of course, is the place of nothingness and death.  In the ancient world, and particularly for the Hebrews, it was thought of as the place of Azazel, the dwelling of demons and wickedness.  That is why, for example, on the Day of Atonement, there were the two goats, the one of which was sacrificed for the sins of the people, and the other sent out into the wilderness to Azazel, both goats being types of our Lord Jesus Christ in His bearing of our sin and His sacrifice of atonement.  The Children of Israel had to wander in the wilderness for 40 years before entering the Promised Land.  St. John the Baptist was preaching in the wilderness and baptizing for repentance and the forgiveness of sins.  Our Lord suffered His 40 days and 40 nights of hunger and temptation in the wilderness.  And here we are, in a fallen world, in our fallen flesh, sinners in the midst of sinners, and suffering under the very real persecution and threats of the devil and his demons, and we are in the wilderness.  The Church on earth is the Children of Israel between Egypt and their Inheritance.  We’ve been brought out of our bondage to sin, death, and that wicked Pharaoh, the devil; led in exodus through the Red Sea of our Baptism; and we know the Promise is coming, the Land, new creation, new heavens and a new earth and the resurrection of our bodies in sinless perfection.  But for now, the wilderness wandering.  Sin.  Idolatry.  Broken Commandments.  Plagues.  Death.  We hunger and thirst for righteousness, but find none in ourselves or in this wilderness waste. 

            The Prophet Isaiah is drawing upon the image of the Exodus in our text.  God, leading His people out.  God, leading His people through.  God, leading His people in.  And it is ever and always the story of the Redeemed.  In fact, for the New Testament people, which is you and me, it is the culmination of the story.  Led by God out of slavery to our enemies (sin, death, the devil, and our own flesh), through the wilderness of this life and this world, to the Promise of heaven and the resurrection.  What we need for this wilderness sojourning is water.  Water from the Rock, like the Children of Israel in the desert, and the Rock followed them, and the Rock was Christ (1 Cor. 10:4).  We need the water that comes from the Rock when it is struck with the staff, the water that flows with the blood from our crucified Lord’s pierced side, the water of the font that washes us clean and makes us righteous before God, God’s own child, I gladly say it.

            When that water comes in preaching and Sacrament, the desert blossoms abundantly and the people of God rejoice and sing.  That is to say, the Church rejoices, even in her wilderness wandering.  And she is fruitful.  She blooms.  She preaches the Gospel.  The water flows.  She does good works, works of love for her neighbor.  And she trusts that God will make good on all His Promises.  He will provide for her.  Manna in the wilderness, water from the Rock, bitter water made sweet by the wood of the cross.  He will bring her through.  He will bring her to Himself. 

            That is the Promise Isaiah preaches in our text.  You will see the glory of the LORD.  You will behold the majesty of our God.  And the eyes of the blind shall be opened, the ears of the deaf unstopped.  The lame man shall leap like a deer, and the tongue of the mute sing for joy.  These are, of course, the miracles our Lord performed during His earthly ministry, and as we heard on Sunday, they are the signs that show us who He is: Our Messiah, our Redeemer, the Savior of the world; and they show us what He has come to do: Save, restore, heal, make whole.  The Creator has broken into His creation to heal it of its brokenness.  He does it by being broken on the cross, suffering our death, submitting Himself to our bondage, only to break out of it, healed and whole, in His triumphant resurrection from the dead. 

            Beloved, you are the Ransomed of the LORD of whom Isaiah speaks.  Purchased, not with silver or gold, but with His holy, precious blood, and by His innocent suffering and death.  He redeemed you.  He bought you back.  At great cost.  And now, by His resurrection, He has opened a highway through the wilderness and through death itself into the Promised Land of heaven and the resurrection.  He is that Way, as He says, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life” (John 14:6; ESV).  His death is the black wall of clouds holding so much Promise, the promise of water, the promise of life.  As the Good News is preached that Christ is risen from the dead, the rain begins to fall.  And it’s a good old-fashioned gully-washer.  It is the Living Water of Christ that heals and restores.  Streams and pools and springs of water.  Where once there was only barrenness and death, there is lush, verdant growth.

            So even though you suffer in the wilderness pilgrimage of your earthly life; though there are droughts and illnesses, brokenness and besetting sins, be encouraged.  Have the courage put into you.  Or as Isaiah puts it, strengthen the weak hands and make firm the feeble knees.  No more trembling in fear.  No more anxious heart.  Jesus has come.  He advents.  And He delivers.  He saves.  When you are feeling guilty, as you should, because you are a sinner, confess your sin, and drink in the streams of consolation: your sins are forgiven, for Jesus’ sake.  When a loved one dies, and you are buried in grief, immerse yourself in this great comfort: Jesus died for your loved one, and for you.  And all who believe in Him do not die, but have eternal life.  When a relationship is broken due to sinners sinning against one another, wield this majestic truth: The Lord has buried all sin in His tomb forever.  He is risen, but our sins will never rise.  You are forgiven.  Your neighbor is forgiven.  Forgive, with this overflowing forgiveness, in the Name of Christ.  And when you suffer, as you most certainly will, the effects of creation’s fallenness… when you are sick, when your eyes and ears fail you, when you are unable to do what you once did, and even the powers of speech are lost to you, remember this: Jesus comes to heal and restore all that is broken.  And that is precisely what He will do when He raises you from the dead. 

            Like water in the desert, the Promise sustains you: “And the ransomed of the LORD shall return to Zion with singing; everlasting joy shall be upon their heads; they shall obtain gladness and joy, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away” (Is. 35:10).  You may not see it yet, but… Christians, God bless ‘em, live by faith. 

            We left the farmers in Wauneta that night staring up into the sky.  As we drove to our lodging, the first drops began to fall.  By the time we checked into our room at the Super 8, it was coming down in sheets.  Lutheran farmers aren’t known for emotional displays, but in my mind, they were dancing for joy.  As we should when the Gospel is preached to us.  Rejoice and sing.  Jesus comes on the wind of His Word.  He comes in the water and the blood.  There is water in the wilderness and the Way is opened for the ransomed of the LORD.  Behold, He makes all things new.  Let it rain.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son (+), and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.