Readings (Track 1)

Today’s readings are, as it were, the soundtracks from three points in our history as the people of God. What is their good news (their Gospel) for us today? Each in their own way are echoing the Gospel as proclaimed in Isaiah 40. That chapter’s first verse: “Comfort, O comfort my people, says your God.” Its last verse: “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” (v.31).

In our first reading the prophet Haggai speaks in a profoundly discouraging situation. Some of the Judean exiles are back from Babylon, but the rebuilt temple is a constant reminder of the splendor of the temple the Babylonians destroyed, and Zerubbabel, a Davidic heir, is “governor,” not king. We can sympathize: some of us can remember when the pews were packed and affiliation with a congregation was simply part of being a good community member. So Haggai: take courage, work, do not fear! Why? “I am with you… my spirit abides among you.”

The prophet continues: “Once again, in a little while, I will shake the heavens and the earth and the sea and the dry land; and I will shake all the nations, so that the treasure of all nations shall come, and I will fill this house with splendor, says the LORD of hosts” (Hag 2:6-7). With all due respect to George Frederick Handel’s brilliant rendering of these verses, they’re a problem, because nothing recognizably like this happens in Haggai’s lifetime. Centuries later Herod the Great fills the temple with splendor, just in time for Jesus to pronounce it a “den of thieves” and for the Romans to destroy it! It’s an example of something common even to true prophets: the short- and long-term are conflated. God, as we often observe, does time differently than we do.

Nevertheless, “I am with you… my spirit abides among you.” That’s the comfort Isaiah talked about. Not consolation (as in “consolation prize”), but an assurance that God’s still active that strengthens the hearers. “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.” So Haggai: “work.”

Notice that that line from Isaiah doesn’t read “Those who see the LORD acting” but “Those who wait for the LORD.” So waiting for the LORD is not like waiting for the mail: it expresses itself in the strength Isaiah describes, in celebrating before the final battle. (That is, by the way, one of the fundamental dimensions of the Eucharist. Isaiah (elsewhere) had prophesied: “On this mountain the LORD of hosts will make for all peoples a feast of rich food, a feast of well-aged wines, of rich food filled with marrow, of well-aged wines strained clear. And he will destroy on this mountain the shroud that is cast over all peoples, the sheet that is spread over all nations; he will swallow up death forever” (25:6-8a). Every Eucharist foreshadows that feast, that new world in which everyone is welcome, there’s room for everyone, there’s enough for everyone. We celebrate particularly on Sunday, when our Lord took that decisive chomp out of Death.

If that waiting for the Lord is sustained by remembering God’s mighty acts—preeminently the resurrection—it’s equally sustained by the “God moments” in our past or present, often in the form of particular people. It’s what Paul was talking about in last Sunday’s reading:
“We must always give thanks to God for you, brothers and sisters, as is right, because your faith is growing abundantly, and the love of everyone of you for one another is increasing” (2Th 1:3). Yes, Cain, we are each other’s keeper, and the choices we make in our dealings with each other nurture or sap our capacity to faithfully wait.

The ending of our reading from Paul’s letter was the inspiration for associating our readings with Isaiah 40: “Now may our Lord Jesus Christ himself and God our Father, who loved us and through grace gave us eternal comfort and good hope, comfort your hearts and strengthen them in every good work and word.”

That reading started with Paul trying to quash the rumor that the “day of the Lord” had already arrived. He works the problem from two angles. First, he recalls an expected sequence of events, perhaps drawing from Jesus’ teaching as recorded in Matthew (24:1ff), Mark (13:1ff), and Luke (25:5ff). Attempts to make sense of this sequence in the subsequent centuries of the Church’s life have not been encouraging. Second, he paints the larger picture: “God chose you as the first fruits for salvation.” There is a rich harvest coming; you’re the beginning of it. That’s a designation every generation can own: for every generation is in a unique situation, and, in God’s generosity, the first fruits in anticipation of a rich harvest. It’s why Jesus told parables like the sower and the mustard seed. “Yet now take courage, O Zerubbabel, says the LORD; take courage, O Joshua, son of Jehozadak, the high priest; take courage, all you people of the land, says the LORD; work, for I am with you, says the LORD of hosts.”

“Comfort, O comfort my people, says your God.… 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.” OK, preacher, how does Jesus’ argument with the Sadducees regarding the resurrection relate to that?

In this way, I think: what makes it hard to believe Isaiah’s words then and now is the same thing tripping up the Sadducees, the assumption that we know how the world works. The Sadducees: if there’s a resurrection it’s a continuation of life as we know it, which leads to absurdities like one woman simultaneously married to seven brothers.

As you may recall, Matthew and Mark also tell this story, and in their accounts Jesus begins his response with “You are wrong, because you know neither the scriptures nor the power of God” (Mat 22:29; cf. Mk 12:24). Centuries later Hamlet makes a similar point to Horatio in Shakespeare’s Hamlet: “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” I find Hamlet’s words a useful benchmark: is that therealization that our encounters with Scripture and God’s power are generating? Sadly, there are too many ways of reading Scripture that narrow our focus, confirm our prejudices. Oh, that our readings more often generated the awe and wonder reflected in Hamlet’s words!

God’s future: not the continuation of life as we know it. As we celebrate in the Eucharist, in God’s future, everyone is welcome, there’s room for everyone, there’s enough for everyone. Let us hear again Isaiah’s words: “Comfort, O comfort my people, says your God.… 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.”