Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.
The local reporter
was interviewing a county sheriff in Wyoming, asking about details over a
grisly murder in the county. Lives were impacted, directly and indirectly, by
the whole sad narrative. Even the reporter seemed melancholy and pensive by the
whole sordid affair and, as the interview ended, he asked, “Does it ever seem
to you that the world is getting tired? [1]”
Does it ever
seem to you that the world is getting tired? I’ve thought about that question all
week. Given all that has happened, is happening, and continues to happen all
around us – and by “us” I mean all of creation, not just Mission Valley – I
imagine that the world is growing weary.
Just when we
thought Covid might be knocked out, it’s sneaking back into the headlines. We
are in the high peak of hurricane season. Speaking for myself, I check the NOAA
hurricane center website every few days, just to know what’s happening. New England to Nova Scotia is cleaning up from
last week’s storm. Libya is still reeling from the terrible failure of two dams
along a major river, resulting in tens of thousands dead and missing and
unknown property damage. The death toll in Morocco continues to rise as the
after-shocks send terrified families scurrying for safety. Wildfires and
drought continue to wreak havoc on Texas. That’s in nature.
Looking at
what man does to man, politicians are getting into pre-season shape for a
serious mud-slinging, knock-down, drag-out campaign season. The economy is a
fiscal roller coaster. All of us with
children and spouses in school, we see the anxiety and stress in their eyes and
voices every day as they leave for class and the frustration as they come home
with more work to do. We go to our own jobs and struggle with declining
revenues and shrinking margins. Meanwhile, our bodies are continuing to age. I
was visiting with a person the other day. She said, you know, we used to go
visiting and see people. Now, we just go visit another doctor. We go to bed
exhausted and wake up not fully rested and turn on the 5am news and it all
starts again. Coffee just doesn’t quite fight away the tired that remains in
our body, in our mind, and in our heart.
Tired.
That’s a good word, isn’t it? We’re tired, our families are tired, and yes –
even the world seems tired. And, as God’s people, we know the answer to our
fatigue: we seek rest in the Word of God in the Holy Scriptures. This morning,
Isaiah invites us to seek the Lord, to search for Him, to pray to Him who is
our refuge and strength, a very present help in time of trouble, and to call
upon Him while He is near. And we do. We lift up our weary eyes to the hills,
from whence cometh our help (Ps. 121), but even the hills seem to be groaning
under the strain of it all (Romans 8:22). Our cries, uttered in faith, echo the
Psalmist, “How long, O Lord, how long” (Ps. 13)? Maybe we even find the words
of Job echoing in our own prayers, “I cry to you for help and you do not answer
me; I stand, and you only look at me. You have turned cruel to me” (Job
30:20-21). It seems there is only silence amidst fires, flood, famine…fatigue.
But Isaiah
would not allow us to merely offer up a grocery-list of laments and complaints.
He is not content to leave us grounded in the foolish notion that we should,
somehow and someway, be exempt from such sufferings this side of heaven because
of our goodness, our “innocence,” our self-righteousness, our Christianity. Isaiah
will not let us stand on our own terms. Rather, Isaiah rightly places us before
Almighty God. He is God; we are His people, the sheep of His hands.
“For my
thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the
Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than
your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.” God uses the tiresome, wearisome
things of this world to draw us back to Him. In these things that take place
around us, that we see on the screen or in the paper, that we hear of from
friends and family, God is at work, even in these moments that seem so out of
His control, to lead us to repentance.
The entire Christian
life is one of repentance, the recognition and acknowledgment that we are sinners
living in a fallen world. We repent for that which we have done and that which
we have left undone in our lives. We repent of misrepresenting ourselves as
co-equal with God, as if He owes us a reply. We repent of breaking our
relationship with God in our sinfulness. We repent of our demands for answers.
We repent of our expectations that all is fair. Repentance humbles, not defends.
It is reflective on God’s voice, not defiantly raising ours. It is admission
that we need help, not a spotlight. So,
our Lord through Isaiah calls us to return to the Lord. Our cries join that of
creation, creation calling to Creator, and we seek the Lord: “Lord, have mercy.”
Repentance
has two aspects. The first is sorrow for our sins. That’s the plea for mercy,
that we do not receive what we deserve. The second is faith that trusts that
God is inclined to show mercy to us because of Christ. I suspect we forget that
part, that repentance includes faith.
The entire life of the Christian is one of repentance, remember – sorrow
for our sins, yes, but more than that, it’s the faith that trusts Jesus died to
rescue and redeem this fallen world and all of us who are in it.
Faith seeks
the Lord where He has promised to be: at the cross. At the cross, Christ
carried the unrighteousness and wickedness and fallenness of the world into
Himself. He was separated from His Father so that we would never be isolated
from God’s grace. Jesus suffered hell on earth so that our sufferings would be
only temporary and not last into eternity. Jesus died as a condemned sinner,
not only for you and me, but even to redeem creation. The heavens marked His
guilty-as-hell death by cloaking the mid-day sun with darkness and with the
ground shaking in fear that the God of Creation died, the earth swallowing His
body into the burial chamber for a three-day rest.
On the third
day, Christ arose, living, breathing, triumphant. His resurrection declares
that sin, death and the devil have been conquered, and that the fallen world
and our own fallen selves have been rescued and redeemed by Him.
So, when you
are world-weary and sin-worn, turn to the One who knows full-well about being
world-weary, sin-worn, and He knows the need for rest. But He not only knows
the struggle, He gives the victory. In His resurrection, He invites us to “Come
to me who are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest” (Matt 11:28).
Seek Him where He has promised to be: here, in His house; in Water and Word, in
Bread and Wine. He is present in the fellowship of the saints who speak
Christ’s own words of comfort and blessing, and when a brother or sister helps
you, in the name of Jesus, when you are weak and struggling.
“Does it
seem like the world is getting tired?” This side of heaven, we will continue to
struggle and we will have those days when we feel oh, so tired and not sure
that we want to know what tomorrow will bring. Those days make us yearn for the
promised day of resurrection when our rest shall be perfect and the fatiguing
factors of this lifetime are forgotten. Until then, do what is in front of you
and do it to the best of your ability. Repent of your sins and in faith that
you are already forgiven in Christ. And then rest – rest your body, your mind,
your soul – in Christ Jesus who died and was buried for you, knowing that His three-day
rest in the tomb sanctifies your rest. And, then, when you awake, make the sign
of the cross as a reminder that Christ is near and with you. Go about your day,
renewed in Christ Jesus.
Amen.
[1]
Johnson, Craig. The Cold Dish. I was listening to an audiobook, so I
don’t have a page citation.
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