Sermon Text: Isaiah 61:1-3, 10-11
Date: December 17, 2023
Event: The Third Sunday in Advent, Year B
Isaiah 61:1-13, 10-11 (EHV)
The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me,
because the Lord has anointed me
to preach good news to the afflicted.
He sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim freedom for the captives
and release for those who are bound,
2to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor
and the day of vengeance for our God,
to comfort all who mourn,
3to provide for those who mourn in Zion,
to give them a crown of beauty instead of ashes,
the oil of joy instead of mourning,
a cloak of praise instead of a faint spirit,
so that they will be called oaks of righteousness,
a planting of the Lord to display his beauty.
10I will rejoice greatly in the Lord.
My soul will celebrate because of my God,
for he has clothed me in garments of salvation.
With a robe of righteousness he covered me,
like a bridegroom who wears a beautiful headdress like a priest,
and like a bride who adorns herself with her jewelry.
11For as the earth produces its growth,
and as a garden causes what has been sown to sprout up,
so God the Lord will cause righteousness and praise to sprout up
in the presence of all the nations.
Rejoice in God’s Changes!
Rejoicing is a tough thing to suggest this time of year. Now, on the one hand, it is a joyous time of year, isn’t it? The lights and other decorations, the food, the celebrations, the time with family and friends, the time to celebrate our Savior’s first advent and his coming second advent at the same time. Rejoice in the Lord!
But for some of those very reasons that some might rejoice, others might have reason to be downcast. Maybe this is the first (or fifteenth) holiday season without that loved one God called to himself in heaven. Maybe relationships with family are strained, and friendships seem hard to come by. Regardless of the season, news about work, your health, or a loved one’s health can make rejoicing difficult if not impossible.
But, am I not rejoicong if I feel sad and downcast? Am I ignoring my God if I feel down in the dumps? Am I sinning if I cannot muster even a masked, forced smile? After all, Paul in our Second Reading directed us to rejoice always; do I really have faith in God’s forgiveness if I am not happy?
I want to draw your attention to the service theme paragraph on p. 3 of the bulletin, especially the second paragraph. I did not write this, but it is a good summary that may direct our thoughts and hearts this morning and in the coming days: Joy is not the same thing as happiness. Happiness is an emotion. Joyfulness is a condition. Happiness comes from your circumstances. Joyfulness comes from your King entering into your heart and assuring you of his abiding love and your glorious future. Therefore, happiness is fleeting. Joyfulness is enduring.
We often equate joy or rejoicing with happiness, but they’re not the same thing. And just because I’m not happy doesn’t mean I’m not joyful and thankful. So, how can we think about these things? How can we rejoice even if we’re sad? How can we be joyful even if we are separated from those we love? How does true, God-given joy show itself?
This morning we’re going to focus on our First Reading, Isaiah’s words of prophecy. This is the fifth of the so-called “Servant Songs” in Isaiah, pieces of poetry that put words into the mouth of the coming Messiah. Isaiah is writing about 700 years before Jesus’ birth, but through God’s inspiration the message that he would proclaim is crystal clear: The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me to preach good news to the afflicted. He sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release for those who are bound, 2to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor and the day of vengeance for our God, to comfort all who mourn, 3to provide for those who mourn in Zion, to give them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, a cloak of praise instead of a faint spirit, so that they will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord to display his beauty.
During Isaiah’s ministry, it seemed that God’s people had little to rejoice about. The nation of Assyria, the world super-power at the time, was running roughshod over the Promised Land. The northern ten tribes would be carried off into exile by Assyria, while the southern two tribes would remain. However, even though the southern kingdom would not be exiled at this time, the Assyrians still made their lives miserable. It was only through a miraculous intervention by God that the invading army didn’t destroy the city of Jerusalem.
And yet, despite this, the Messiah is given the commission to go and deliver good (dare we say it? Joyful!) news: binding to the brokenhearted, freedom for those taken captive, and joy instead of mourning! However, at the time that Isaiah’s first audience would have heard this, it would have seemed like a pipe-dream. “Really? Will we have freedom? Rejoicing? Look around, Isaiah! Read the room! How will this happen?!”
And while Assyria would be turned away, not so many years later, the nation of Babylon would rise up, and God would use them to carry his people off into exile for their unfaithfulness to him. The nation would return home seventy years later, but never again would it see the freedom and joy they had under kings like David and Solomon. They would have an imperfect freedom under the thumbs of the Persians, the Greeks, and eventually, the Romans.
So, they were left waiting… and waiting… and waiting for this messenger of freedom to arrive. You can understand why the idea of the Messiah as a political savior had grown in popularity, can’t you? Someone to save them from the oppression of foreign governments? Someone to rescue God’s people and restore them to a position of prominence that seemed fitting for God’s chosen nation? And so when the Messiah does arrive, and he’s a little baby in a manger, or an unimpressive man preaching and teaching that ends up being executed by the very foreign government people hoped he would rescue them from, you can understand, why there wasn’t a lot of rejoicing in what God was doing here. And that is, in part, because because they could not see the whole picture.
Let’s come back to you and me and our life of rejoicing. What does that look like? Should Christians be happy all the time, smiling their way through life? I mean, we might have reason to. We know what Jesus accomplished, that the cross was a victory for him, not defeat. But in many ways, we are like those people suffering under bondage while promises of freedom drift in front of us.
We know that Jesus’ work is done, but how often do you really see the effects of it? Sure, you know it, by God’s grace you trust and believe it. You have the forgiveness of all of your sins because of Jesus’ life and death in your place. But look around you! Look inside of you! How much evidence can you see that Jesus defeated sin? I look around and see a world crumbling to decay because of the corruption of sin. I see empty places at holiday meals where loved ones have been separated from me by death. I look at myself and see a heart, mind, words, and actions that, at best, are tainted with sin and, at worst, are nothing but sin. If Jesus is victorious, why don’t I see it? If Jesus came to proclaim this message of comfort and release, why am I still so uncomfortable and bound?
My dear sister, my dear brother, be assured of this: Jesus’ work is complete; your sins are completely paid for; there is no punishment for your rebellion against God. However, like an inheritance may be inaccessible, though certain, and like a deposit may take time to grow in a financial account, what you and I have right now is just a bit, just a taste of what is to come. When Jesus brings us to heaven, we will have it all in full. No more sorrow or pain. No more slavery to sin or mourning in my heart. No more sinful nature to lead me astray. No more temptations trying to pull me in ways I should not go.
That’s not the situation right now. I don’t experience that in full today. But I will. And so will you.
And that’s what we rejoice about: we have the forgiveness of sins, and one day, we will experience it in full. The Messiah did come and do the work to set people free. Even if I can’t always see it or feel it, this is what Jesus has done for me: I will rejoice greatly in the Lord. My soul will celebrate because of my God, for he has clothed me in garments of salvation. With a robe of righteousness he covered me, like a bridegroom who wears a beautiful headdress like a priest, and like a bride who adorns herself with her jewelry.
Jesus has covered me in his forgiveness, in his righteousness. He has taken my shame away and dressed me in divine wedding clothes. But those clothes, though mine, may seem less like they are wrapped around me and more like their hanging in a closet in my room in heaven. They’re there, they’re certain, but I can’t always see it or feel it.
And so this time of year and every time of year, we rejoice in God’s changes that he has made for us, even while recognizing that we still live in this sinful, corrupted world. If your holiday joy is muted because of circumstances around you, that is ok. But as we approach the Christmas manger and as our eyes look forward to Jesus’ return, let the change that God has given you and the ultimate change that he will give in heaven lighten your heart and encourage you until that day. I will rejoice greatly in the Lord.Thanks be to God! Amen.
