Have You Been Paying Attention?
- Rev. Aaron Houghton
- Feb 5, 2018
- 6 min read
“Have you not known? Have you not heard? Has it not been told to you from the beginning? Have you not understood from the foundations of the earth?” These are the exasperated questions of a prophet flustered by a people who seem to have forgotten the fundamental teachings of their tradition. These “people” are the exiled Jews in Babylon, the audience of Second Isaiah, and they are a bit distracted. We’ve talked a good bit about Isaiah’s audience and their particular situation over the past year. Let’s recall a few of these distractions: loss of home, loss of temple, loss of land, introduction of new land, new people, new faiths and superstitions, new gods and idols, new opportunities for work and trade. Amidst these distractions, today’s text reveals a prophet trying to refocus attention in much the same way that an elementary school teacher tries to regain control of the class when it begins to snow outside.
There are two sections in today’s passage, each introduced by the same series of exasperated questions. The first section deals with what we should have known from the “beginning” and from the “foundations of the earth,” which is what the tradition says about the “beginning.” All of this is the work of God’s hands…even the distractions. These foreign rulers, this foreign land, they are still a part of God’s creation. “To whom then will you compare me, or who is my equal? says the Holy One.” Who indeed? Can kings measure up, or how about military leaders, or maybe the host of handcrafted gods to serve the superstitions of Babylon, do any of these things have creative power compared to the one who created them?
I spent a good portion of last week in Manhattan, surrounded by some of the tallest buildings in the world, bright lights, spectacular storefronts, 50,000 Uber drivers, and menu prices that make even our ball-park food prices seem cheap. It was pretty overwhelming, and I was glad to have my brother around to guide me through the city and its distractions. One morning, my brother had to work all day, so I thought I’d do the same, and I asked him if he knew of a good local coffee shop I could hunker down in and perhaps get a start on my sermon. He told me of a spot about three blocks away, bid me adieu, and I went on my way. It wasn’t there, well at least I didn’t see it. 10 blocks later, I gave up on finding the place and just started looking for any coffee shop I could find…which, as it turns out, there’s at least two on every block.
I’ve got to imagine that Babylon was a new and impressive place for the Jews in exile, wealthy, shiny buildings, vast marketplaces. I’d expect more than a few of them to feel a bit overwhelmed, and to appreciate having a prophet to guide them through the experience. But just like my brother’s directions to me, the prophet’s words to the exiles, while clear and simple, aren’t always the easiest to follow in a sea of distractions. “There is one God,” reminds Isaiah. “Yeah,” say the exiles, “But I’m having trouble finding time to focus on God, and besides there are hundreds of other gods around here that I can pay attention to.”
On the walk back, I found the coffee shop my brother had told me about. It was on the other side of the street from where I had been looking—if I’m honest, I was mostly looking down and trying to avoid stepping in dog puddles (which are a thing to look out for when your entire city is made of sidewalk). How easily we can be distracted from things that are right in front of us. How quickly we can get lost in a new place, even when we’ve been given directions.
The second section of today’s text begins with the prophet asking “Why do you say, ‘My way is hidden from the Lord, and my right is disregarded by my God’?” Such questions are distractions. To say “my way is hidden from the Lord,” suggests a doubt that God is even paying attention. “My right is disregarded by God,” implies that God doesn’t care, God has no interest in individual’s rights.[1] Again, the exasperation, “Have you not been paying attention?”
I remember calling my brother on my search and telling him that the coffee shop wasn’t there. He knew it was there, he saw it just about every day, he’d given me clear instructions on how to get there, I’m sure he didn’t know what else he could possibly say to help me find it. Just so, Isaiah has done everything in his ability to re-focus these people on faith in the “everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth.” He knows that God is there, he’s told the people exactly who this God is…and yet amidst the distractions of the loss and grief of exile, and wealth, opportunity, superstition, and unfamiliarity of being in a new place, they’re struggling. Some of them are still saying, “God’s not there.”
“What do you mean, God’s not there?” says Isaiah, “that’s just not possible! God is everlasting. He doesn’t grow faint or get weary. God is always there.” How will he reach these people how can he get them to see what they keep overlooking? And here’s where he does something fascinating. Let me preface this however with a few questions of my own: Have you ever been in an argument? Typically, arguments are fueled by a difference of opinion—seeing things differently. The tension and turmoil of an argument grows out of my inability to see things their way, and their refusal to see things my way. But I’ve got facts, and proof, and evidence to back up my stance, and they’ve only got superstition. Compared to God’s knowledge and wisdom, however, we know nothing. Yet, God is patient with us.
What do we do when we know we’re right and they’re wrong? We usually let our anger get the better of us, we try to force feed our mindset to others…things can get ugly pretty fast. At the end of the argument, we’re still right, they’re still wrong, and now we’re both mad at one another and unwilling to interact any further. So, as I said Isaiah does something fascinating in conversation with the exiles. He’s clearly frustrated, and yet he doesn’t let it get the better of him. He offers hope. He invites people back into relationship with God, but he doesn’t force it upon them. He understands that patience is required. Some folks are looking for immediate fixes to their faith and invoking idols to do their bidding.[2] Eventually, the futility of these efforts will get the better of them. But those who remain to wait upon the Lord shall be renewed.
Had Isaiah gotten caught up in anger and argument, he would have missed an opportunity to encourage those still listening for words of hope. There’s a lot of arguing and bickering and finger pointing that goes on in the world. These are distractions. God is still everlasting, and there is still hope, there is still joy, there is still promise for this world. But we might not want to wait for it. We’re impatient…we want to solve problems now, we want the Kingdom of God to appear in an instant, we want the woes and worry of today to magically disappear. This is both the good news, and the difficult lesson of Isaiah’s faith and prophecy: our redemption is promised, but it is not a magic trick. Our Lord waits for us, can we wait upon the Lord? Redemption takes time and patience, but God will give us the strength to endure this process. Those who are impatient, those who seek a fast fix, will also be quick to find frustration; but those who wait upon the Lord will renew their strength.
Can we remove ourselves from the anger and argument, take a deep breath, and find opportunities to encourage those in this world who are desperate to hear a word of hope? We’re here, aren’t we? Look around you. These are God’s patient people. You might not feel patient, there might be something just eating at you this morning. But you’ve shown up, and have given God an opportunity to renew your strength. And here, set before us this morning is the Lord’s Table. As we prepare to approach this table, I invite you to shift your attention: do this in remembrance of Christ. Remember who he was, and is, and will continue to be; remember what he taught; remember the promise of God which he has fulfilled for us. Whatever it is that is eating at you is nothing compared to what you are about to consume: the Lord’s Supper. This is a meal of remembrance in which our hope is fed, our strength is restored, our faith is set upon a firm foundation, and through which our lives are redeemed. As you lift the bread and cup to your lips, may you feel God lifting you. Amen.
[1] Hanson, Paul. Isaiah 40-66. Page 30.
[2] Ibid.
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