The Greatest Story to Yet Be Told: Isaiah 43:16-21 - Fifth Sunday in Lent

 ¹⁶Thus says the Lord,
  who makes a way in the sea,
  a path in the mighty waters,
 ¹⁷who brings out chariot and horse,
  army and warrior;
 they lie down, they cannot rise,
  they are extinguished, quenched like a wick:
 ¹⁸Do not remember the former things,
  or consider the things of old.
 ¹⁹I am about to do a new thing;
  now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?
 I will make a way in the wilderness
  and rivers in the desert.
 ²⁰The wild animals will honor me,
  the jackals and the ostriches;
 for I give water in the wilderness,
  rivers in the desert,
 to give drink to my chosen people,
  ²¹the people whom I formed for myself
 so that they might declare my praise.

Art by Uliana Krekhovetš, Icon Sacred Contemporary Art Gallery – Lviv Oblast, Ukraine

Last Friday, the General Mills corporation announced that it is unable to meet demand for Pillsbury refrigerated dough products and Totino’s pizza rolls, due to labor shortages and supply chain disruptions. Therefore, if you’re hungry for crescent rolls or other savory delights that are sold in a tube, you may need an alternative. 

Hopefully, not Lunchables®—because there’s a shortage of those too. Same with Rice Krispy treats. Goldfish crackers, Philadelphia® Cream Cheese and even Girl Scout Cookies. 

And if the checkout lines are long, it’s because there’s a worker shortage. If you’re paying with cash, you may need exact change—because there’s a coin shortage. Try not to say any bad words when the cashier tells you your total, because food prices have never been higher. This is our world now. This is our reality. And we haven’t even left the supermarket…

Supply chain shortages and hyperinflation aren’t even the worst of it. One million Americans are dead from Covid-19. Two years of our children’s lives have been disrupted. Putin’s war machine has killed thousands of Ukrainians and reduced major cities to rubble. 

Three years ago, we could never have imagined any of these things happening—but here we are. Only now, are we beginning to understand the toll these crises have taken on our mental and spiritual health.

In today’s first reading, the prophet Isaiah is speaking to the people of Israel who have just been through a crisis very similar to the one in Ukraine. King Nebuchadnezzar and the mighty armies of Babylon conquered the land of Israel. Jerusalem and its temple were destroyed. Countless lives were lost. Many survivors were deported to Babylon.

It's hard to imagine how disorienting this must have been—because Nebuchadnezzar didn’t just conquer them. He conquered God. Jerusalem was God’s city. The temple was God’s home. No one should’ve been able to destroy them. 

How do you keep believing in God in a situation like this? What’s the point of worship; what’s the point of prayer; what’s the point of hope?

When life falls apart, faith falls apart. When the world falls apart, your sense of God falls apart. 

I don’t think I’m exaggerating when I say that our spirits have been broken by all that has been happening around us and even to us.

When your spirit is broken, you become paralyzed with fear. You lose the capacity to hope, you lose the capacity to believe, you lose the capacity to love. Your heart becomes hardened because your spirit can’t bear being broken anymore. Life becomes its own burden. The future is not a gift; it is a threat to guard yourself against. 

And yet, if you pay attention to the Scriptures, you will see that in the most hopeless and desperate situations God is preparing to do something new and something big. Abraham and Sarah were well past their childbearing years when God promised to make of them a great nation. The Israelites were about to falter under the yoke of slavery in Egypt when God broke the back of Pharaoh and set them free. 

And now, in the devastation of the exile, God is about to do something new and something big. God will not be upstaged by a tyrant like Nebuchadnezzar, and God’s people will not perish as his victims. The stage is now set for God to bring salvation. There’s no dessert too dry or river too wide to stop God from revealing his glory to the world. Out of tragic endings come new beginnings. 

That is the promise of the cross. That is why we proclaim Christ crucified and risen. That is why we gather, hand-in-hand, at the foot of the cross; every one of us a sinner; every one of us a mortal; every one of us wounded and broken. With the people of Ukraine, with friends and loved ones absent from us due to age or illness, with all who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death, with those who do not share our faith in Christ, we wait patiently for Easter—because resurrection didn’t stop at the empty tomb. It didn’t stop when we locked our doors because of Covid; and it won’t stop as the bombs fall on Ukraine.

Baptized as we are into the death and resurrection of Christ, his resurrection calls us out of our places of fear, shame, and bitterness—that we might be the witnesses of the new creation God is bringing. 

We grieve our losses with confidence there is life after death.

When afflicted with wounds we cannot heal and challenges we cannot overcome, boldly we pray in confidence that earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot heal. 

When the world calls us to give up on God and delight ourselves in possessions and personal success, we will not be fooled. 

When hyperinflation tempts us to hold tighter to what God has given, we open our hands in blessing. 

When evil is strong, we love stronger.

Though there has never been a more difficult time to be church together, we receive resurrection’s promise as an invitation to adventure: to try new things, journey down untrodden paths, take risks, and dare to put our trust in God. We embrace change, as difficult as it may be, because resurrection is about new things springing forth; not old things coming back to life. The world has never needed more the resurrection love which we claim in Christ. We can either perish in despair, or we can arise as children of God’s new creation. 

And yes, it’s a long journey to the promised land—and the only way there is through the wilderness. It is only there, when we are away from our self-sufficient ways, that we discover how amazing grace can be. Resurrection isn’t so much the destination as it is the journey of growth and transformation into the person God created you to be.

Will you embrace the future as God’s future?

Will we arise up as witnesses to the resurrection, and show the world that God can heal their wounds?

Will we take our place in the story that is to yet be told, as the whole world waits for Easter?