Isaiah 40:21-31 and Mark 1:29-39
Fifth Sunday after Epiphany
Are you tired? Stressed? Overworked? Fatigued?
Anxious? Feeling overwhelmed? If you
are, you’re in good company. The people who
first heard Isaiah’s prophetic vision, these majestic, soaring, hopeful words
which we know as Isaiah 40, were a people in exile. The Israelites were in
Babylon, enslaved by an alien empire, far from home, living among alien gods
and traditions. They were a people who
questioned God’s existence, doubted God’s faithfulness, God’s goodness. They
felt confused and lost. In fact, they even
wondered whether God was the one who had done the losing, for at least, they
knew where they were—in exile. Where was
God? Isaiah asks, “Why do you say, O
Jacob, and speak, O Israel, ‘My way is hidden from the LORD, and my right is
disregarded by my God?’” (Is. 40:27). In
other words, the people are saying, thinking, God doesn’t see us. God has forgotten us. God doesn’t care.
The
prophetic utterance that begins here in Isaiah 40, and continues through
chapter 55—what scholars call Second Isaiah—was written to the Israelites while
they were in exile. Second Isaiah marks
a radical shift in Israel’s consciousness of God, and the prophet wants the
people to hear this new Word that was given to him. He wants them to know what he knows to be
true. He calls them to remember, to
recollect, to recall what they had forgotten about the true nature of God: “Have
you not known? Have you not heard? Has
it not been told you from the beginning?
Have you not understood from the foundations of the earth” (Is. 40:21)? God
is not like your false idols, the small gods of the Babylonians, all the things
that you create and then invest with power and authority to give you comfort,
assuage your anxiety, forget your pain, alleviate your suffering, your fear, your
stress, to protect you. No, the God of
Abraham and Sarah (and the God of Jesus Christ) is not like that. “To whom then will you compare me or who is
my equal? says the Holy One” (Is. 40:25).
Yahweh
is unlike any other god. For, “Have you
not known? Have you not heard?” You—you
in exile, you who are tired and confused, you who are exhausted, you who wonder
where God is, wonder what God is doing, you who are weary and faint and wonder
if you can take one more step—you! “Have
you not known? Have you not heard? Yahweh is the everlasting God, the Creator of
the ends of the earth. God does not grow
faint or grow weary. God’s understanding
is unsearchable. Yahweh gives power to
the faint, and strengthens the powerless.
Even youths will faint and be weary, and the young will fall exhausted;
but those who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength, they shall mount up
with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and
not faint” (Is. 40:28-31).
Are
you tired? Stressed? Overworked? Anxious? Feeling overwhelmed? You’re in good
company—because so were the people Jesus ministered to in the Galilee. And Jesus was tired, too. In Mark 1, we find the Israelites oppressed
by another empire; this time it’s not Babylon, but Rome. They’re in exile in
their home territory. And we know that Roman oppression in the Galilee was
particularly brutal. Take some time and
read the opening chapters of Mark’s Gospel, track the plot and activity of the
Gospel, and you’ll notice just how much work Jesus does in a day. In Mark 1:21, we have Jesus on the Sabbath in
Capernaum: he taught in the synagogue, he performed an exorcism (during
worship!) on a man with an unclean spirit who challenged his authority and his
intention. As soon as Jesus left the
synagogue, he went to the house of Simon and Andrew. Simon’s mother-in-law was
in bed with a fever, so Jesus took her by the hand and lifted her up into
health. And then we’re told, that same evening, all who were sick or possessed
with demons were brought to Jesus. The entire town came to look on. “And he cured many,” Mark tells us, note not
all, “who were sick with various diseases, and cast out many demons; and he
would not permit the demons to speak, because they knew him” (Mk. 1:32-34).
Jesus
is proclaiming and enacting his divine authority over the forces oppressing the
people and making them sick. In these stories
of healing, including the exorcisms, we essentially have Jesus taking on the
system, which is what it means to proclaim the “kingdom of God,”—taking on and
judging and undermining the social, political, even religious systems that
oppress and dehumanize God’s people and wear us down and make us sick and tired
and hopeless. So, if that’s how you
feel, sick by the system, you’re in good company.
And
it all got too much, even for Jesus. The
next morning, we’re told, in deepest darkness, Jesus got up and went out to a
deserted place, to pray (Mk. 1:35).
If
we hold together the Isaiah and Mark texts, we see that they share one common
theme: God—and God alone—is the source of renewal in our lives. Isaiah calls the people away from their false
idols and alien gods, back to God, to trust God, God’s faithfulness, to hope in
God, and when they do they will find their lives renewed, they will soar, and
run, and walk. And even though Scripture uses antiquated language such as “idols,”
don’t think for a minute that we don’t have idols today that we worship and
adore and give power to over our lives, as if they were gods. These gods are not going to give us what we
need. They are not going to renew us and restore us and give us hope. We need to return, again and again, to the
source of our renewal.
That’s
why it’s significant to see that Jesus—even Jesus—needed time to be renewed. He had to pull himself away from the crowd,
from the collective, from the people making heavy demands upon him. He needed to be alone, in the dark, with God,
in prayer. In fact, this is the rhythm of
Jesus’ ministry, especially in Mark’s Gospel: work is followed by prayer, which
then allows him to get back to work. We
need prayer, all of us—and lots of it, all kinds of prayer (spoken or silent,
in community or alone)—in order to do the work that is set before us. I sometimes hear folks say, why should I
pray, God already knows how I feel or what I need? Jesus certainly never had that excuse. Obviously, prayer was crucial, necessary for
him. How much more for all of us? I’m reminded of what Søren Kierkegaard (1813-1855) once said about prayer,
“Prayer doesn’t change God, it changes the pray-er,” that is, changes the one
who prays. When we pray, with heart, with intention, pray in love, when we
wrestle with God in prayer (with or without words), when we simply enter into
the silence and seek to dwell in God’s presence, we are changed.
And,
you know, prayer is a pretty good remedy against the sin of idolatry, because
in prayer we remember who we and whose we are, we remember that God is God, and
that we aren’t. And then in
acknowledging our powerlessness, our weakness, our inadequacies, our
shortcomings, our regrets, our fears, our anxieties, and our hopes, we throw ourselves
upon the power and goodness of God, we “wait” on the Lord. We lean into God’s presence, into God, we
fall into “the everlasting arms” (Deut. 33:27), which are always there waiting to
hold us, to strengthen and renew us, so that we, like Jesus, “shall mount with
wings like eagles,” running and not weary, walking and not faint, committed to
the work set before us.
For,
eventually, we will be found. “Everyone
is searching for you.” And without complaining, Jesus said, “Let us go on to
the neighboring towns, so that I may proclaim the message [of God’s good news]
there also; for that is what I came out to do” (Mk. 1:38). Let us
go on. “And Jesus went throughout Galilee,
proclaiming the message in their synagogues and casting out demons” (Mk. 1:39). Let us
go on.
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