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"Things Are Going to Change"

St. Mark’s Episcopal Church
The Rev. George D. Smith
Sunday, January 13, 2008
The First Sunday after the Epiphany

Isaiah 42: 1-9
Acts 10: 34-43
Matthew 3: 13-17

Let’s play, “Who am I?” I’ll try not to give it away.
“I will bring change you can believe in!”
“I will bring change you can count on!”
“I’m going to fight for change!”
“Things are going to change!”

Let me give you several clues: one is Barack Obama, one is Hilary Clinton, one is Mike Huckabee and one is God. There is no overlap, and no arguing over who was first to talk about change. Let’s see. One is saying that there will be change you can believe in. Hmm. Does that mean that the change will be real? One is saying that there will be change you can count on. Does that mean that you will notice the change? One is going to just try to make change happen. That’s clear enough. And one is going to change things, period. Guess which is God?

Yes, there is a lot of talk about change these days. And I don’t think we’ve heard the last of it – not for a long time. An article on the front page of the Chicago Tribune asked “What does ‘change’ mean, anyway?” written in response to the sudden rush by White House aspirants to claim themselves as agents of change. I like the word “change.” It gets my attention, and to me, it means the hope and imagination of moving beyond our current problems into a better place. But I don’t know if I can be sure that the better place looks the same for everyone. When people talk about change, it can’t be trusted on face value. Hitler ran on a program of change, as did his ally, Mussolini. According to Peter Seeves at DePaul University, both Socrates and Aristotle thought change was one of the biggest problems we ever have to solve. The Greek philosopher, Heraditius, pointed out that “all things are in flux.” One cannot step into the same river twice. The moment passes, and everything is forever altered. But Socrates said some things must remain stable and eternal. Maybe, but then what is eternal and what is the “it” that is changing?
It is timely then that in today’s readings we hear from the prophet Isaiah, who relays to us a meditation from God. “See, the former things have come to pass, and new things I now declare; before they spring forth, I tell you of them.” We may not see any sign or signs of change right now, but it will happen, and will happen with certainty, vigor and abruptness. Although this message had a particular audience and addressed a particular issue, it also has a universal audience and addresses a universal issue. The particular issue was the exile and captivity of the Israelites in Babylon, over 2,500 years ago. The Babylonians were the most powerful nation on earth and were masters at warfare and conquest. They had gone into Jerusalem, the capital city of Judea and decapitated the social structure by physically transporting all of the leaders to Babylon. This was a time of despair and darkness for both Jerusalem – the people left behind, and the people in captivity. Years passed and then decades. Many of the captives grew old and died away from their homeland. Would there ever be a return? Would things ever change? At the moment of greatest despair comes the Word of God to Isaiah. “The former things have come to pass, and new things I now declare.” But God speaks before there is any evidence of a change. God promises that there will be change – change you can count on, change you can believe in. God will fight for change.

Beyond the particular situation, there is a universal message, that applies to each of us, individually and collectively. Today, many people suffer from a deep sense of darkness and depression. According to the American Medical Association, more and more Americans report being depressed. Although we have had a revolution in the United States in identifying and treating depression with new families of antidepressant drugs, there is no reduction in people who say they suffer from depression. A recent survey showed that 14 million Americans had a serious depressive episode in the previous year, while more than 35 million experienced such depression over their lifetimes. That’s at least ten percent of the population. Many suffer from depression in silence and isolation. In a society that expects people to “snap out of it” and pull themselves up by the boot straps, depression is often not respected or seen as a valid problem. But depression is present in every community and every extended family. The Isaiah passage speaks to these individuals on a personal level, giving them an assurance of hope at the deepest level. But there remains a mystery to it because change is not yet apparent and remains undefined. The message is to both individuals and communities. Through Isaiah, God speaks to groups of people as well – those in Darfur, Mexican immigrants in the United States, and the scattered Iraqi Christians – to name a few.

The Isaiah passage tells us about change – that it will happen, and that underneath and behind the change is God. But it is on God’s terms and it will not necessarily be easy on us. But there is much more that we learn in this passage today, that goes well beyond the question of change. We have nothing less than a glimpse into the heart of God and into ourselves. I want to compare it to an unexpected heat wave that melts the winter’s ice and snow to reveal green grass and brown twigs, if only for a short while. The earth is bare and the people remove their coats. The Hebrew and Christian mystics tell us that the essential God is unknowable – en sof in Hebrew or “limitless.” But God manifests God’s self to us in various ways, which serve as a bridge between the limitless and our imperfect reality.

What we see first and foremost through Isaiah is God in relationship with us. “Here is my servant whom I uphold.” What a striking image! Who is this servant? Is it Jesus? Is it the Hebrew people? Is it the church? Is it you and me? Yes! Today, Isabelle Rose Friebel will be baptized at the 10:30 a.m. service. During a pre-baptism meeting with her parents, Jared and Gina, Isabelle was getting a little fussy. Without missing a beat, Jared moved deftly to lift his daughter from her car seat, holding her flat on her back in his hands and forearms, moving her from side to side in a rapid but gentle motion. I’ll have to have him demonstrate this later. Every parent does this rocking and holding in a unique way, Jared no exception. But the result was predictable – Isabelle became immediately quiet and content. I see God doing the same thing with us individually and collectively, holding us in unique ways that we can trust, that conforms to us and reflects an intimate love, knowledge and relationship. But there is more – we see a glimpse of a proud and boastful stance, one of profound joy. Our identity is proclaimed as well – we are both chosen and servant – individually and collectively. We are not just created male and female, but as servants. It is then that we get a glimpse into the divine inner life. God says, “Here is my servant in whom my soul delights.” You have no doubt heard over and over again that God loves you. But what we hear in Isaiah is that God’s very soul delights in us. How often have you heard that God is delighted in you – to the depth of God’s soul? What is it like for you when your very soul delights in another? The source of God’s love is an inner delight, in the depth of God’s soul.

The Isaiah passage gives us a rare look into God. And we see also the work of God. God puts his spirit upon the people, upon us, and gives us his breath. He has called us and taken us by the hand and kept us close, and given us to others. This echoed in the Eucharist, when the bread is taken, blessed, broken and given to us and the world. Finally, God reveals his name, declaring “I am the LORD.” Naming oneself is the ultimate sign of relationship, friendship and love.

The revelation shifts back and forth, from God to us. As servants, imbued with God’s spirit, we are set forth to do important work. What is this work? To establish justice in the earth, to a coastland that waits - longs for a message of God’s justice. We are a light to others, a light that will help people see, and rescuers to those who are enslaved in the dark dungeons of a broken world. While we are embraced and cared for like an infant on the one hand, we are also given responsibility in maturity to help others, to make the changes that are God’s vision for the world. We have our work cut out for us.

When Isabelle is baptized today, we can all hear the words of God who declares, “Here is my servant.” In her is a reflection of all of us, collectively as a servant. The words, “Here is my servant” pours upon all of us. In witness to her baptism, we are reminded and renewed in our baptismal covenant - in its meaning of servanthood and service to the world. This is change that delights God’s soul. This is change that you can believe in. This is change that you can count on. This is change worth fighting for. This change is you.

Amen.

 








 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 


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