A New Thing
48th Annual Meeting Sunday
Text: Isaiah 43:18-25
Annual meetings are kind of odd affairs in churches in some ways. They are the one opportunity for the congregation to get together, to review the year gone by, as well as looking to the future with hope. Yet how a congregation approaches a day like today can reveal a lot about identity, as well as sense of purpose. On the flip side, the thought of being at one more meeting when we’re as busy as we are is not all that appealing. I have been in some congregations where the Annual Meeting is seen as an opportunity to be somewhere else. In one such case, the minister would get upset at the people who didn’t show up, but took it out on the people who were there… and he wondered why people weren’t coming out.
Just to make myself clear: no matter how many people we have on any given Sunday, I am glad you’re here. I have never found it helpful to lament over how many people don’t come, and be pleased with the ones who do. I was once told that when we preacher-types get into the pulpit, almost half of the congregation almost didn’t come that day. It gives me an extra incentive to try to make this worship experience worth your while. No pressure.
We only have ten more days of Epiphany, the season in which we ask “where have we seen God?” This morning’s reading from Isaiah seems so appropriate for today. You may have noticed that it’s also the theme of the message I had already written for the annual report. It’s almost like it was planned! Even outside of their original setting, the words are powerful ones of encouragement:
Like the ancient Israelites who witnessed the destruction of Jerusalem and the Temple, it must be demoralizing for those who experienced the great post-war boom to see the graying of the church. It’s not something I have any memory of, so I can’t say. However, like it or not, church life has been marginalized as a quaint thing that a few of us do on Sunday mornings. Apathy, that sense that nobody cares anymore, is our greatest challenge. The church, at least as we remember it, is one that now lives in Exile.
But I don’t see this as a bad thing… After all, the prophet was talking to people who were living in exile with these words. Things would never go back to the way that they were… in fact, the prophet saw the longing for the good old days as being counter-productive:
Not only was God doing something new, but that something was happening in spite of the apathy of the exiles. Isaiah was pointing out that God was doing something new, and it was going to happen whether they were involved or not. We learn from history that a Persian King by the name of Cyrus, someone who had no concept or idea of Israel’s faith, would be the one who would bring an end to the Exile. A complete outsider would be the one through who God would act to return the exiles home. Isaiah’s challenge to the captives was not for them to rise up against their captors, and fight for their own freedom… Isaiah’s challenge was that freedom is coming, whether they like it or not, and they need to get ready for it.
To further his point, the prophet uses particular nuances in this passage that we often miss. After these more famous words, Isaiah 43 continues:
God says, “You’ve not done a very good job of living for me, but I am not going to hold it against you.” What is past is past, and what matters now is the future.
As hopeful as they are, these words from Isaiah have this edge to them that chafes at our complacency. Delivered to a people living in exile, who were longing for the good old days, this passage has not lost its edge over thousands of years. It reminds us that we need to spend less time remembering of how things were, and focus our energy on where God is calling us to be. As we move into our annual meeting today, maybe we can take these words to heart.
Text: Isaiah 43:18-25
Annual meetings are kind of odd affairs in churches in some ways. They are the one opportunity for the congregation to get together, to review the year gone by, as well as looking to the future with hope. Yet how a congregation approaches a day like today can reveal a lot about identity, as well as sense of purpose. On the flip side, the thought of being at one more meeting when we’re as busy as we are is not all that appealing. I have been in some congregations where the Annual Meeting is seen as an opportunity to be somewhere else. In one such case, the minister would get upset at the people who didn’t show up, but took it out on the people who were there… and he wondered why people weren’t coming out.
Just to make myself clear: no matter how many people we have on any given Sunday, I am glad you’re here. I have never found it helpful to lament over how many people don’t come, and be pleased with the ones who do. I was once told that when we preacher-types get into the pulpit, almost half of the congregation almost didn’t come that day. It gives me an extra incentive to try to make this worship experience worth your while. No pressure.
We only have ten more days of Epiphany, the season in which we ask “where have we seen God?” This morning’s reading from Isaiah seems so appropriate for today. You may have noticed that it’s also the theme of the message I had already written for the annual report. It’s almost like it was planned! Even outside of their original setting, the words are powerful ones of encouragement:
Do not remember the former things, or consider the things of old.These words come from one of the most important and yet least talked about periods in Israel’s history: the Exile. Over the past few months I’ve been drawing out this point in history much more than usual because it speaks so well to our own experiences of church in the early 21st century. Unlike the 50s or early 60s, the Christian church today is no longer a central part of our culture… it may still be so for many of us on a individual level, but congregations are no longer the community hubs they were once seen to be. Churches as a whole in North America have been in decline… The small numbers that are growing are only doing so because they are absorbing a large part of their new membership from the ones that are declining.
I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?
Like the ancient Israelites who witnessed the destruction of Jerusalem and the Temple, it must be demoralizing for those who experienced the great post-war boom to see the graying of the church. It’s not something I have any memory of, so I can’t say. However, like it or not, church life has been marginalized as a quaint thing that a few of us do on Sunday mornings. Apathy, that sense that nobody cares anymore, is our greatest challenge. The church, at least as we remember it, is one that now lives in Exile.
But I don’t see this as a bad thing… After all, the prophet was talking to people who were living in exile with these words. Things would never go back to the way that they were… in fact, the prophet saw the longing for the good old days as being counter-productive:
Do not remember the former things, or consider the things of old.
Instead of lamenting that things were not the way they were, the words from Isaiah pushed people to look to the future:
I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?This is where the hope is. Even though Jerusalem lay in ruin, even though the Temple had been reduced to rubble, God is doing something new! The story of and literature of the Exile period is what transformed Israel’s faith from being simply local custom, to an all encompassing faith that would change the world. The exile not only re-engineered how they understood their faith, but gave them a new hope and new mission. God was far larger than they had first realized, and that God was doing something new. In the midst of their greatest crisis gave rise to the words of greatest hope.
I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.
Not only was God doing something new, but that something was happening in spite of the apathy of the exiles. Isaiah was pointing out that God was doing something new, and it was going to happen whether they were involved or not. We learn from history that a Persian King by the name of Cyrus, someone who had no concept or idea of Israel’s faith, would be the one who would bring an end to the Exile. A complete outsider would be the one through who God would act to return the exiles home. Isaiah’s challenge to the captives was not for them to rise up against their captors, and fight for their own freedom… Isaiah’s challenge was that freedom is coming, whether they like it or not, and they need to get ready for it.
So much of our church literature and culture has been molded around how do we bring God to people… or how do we bring people to God. These words from Isaiah remind us of the good solid Reformed church understanding that God is sovereign, and can act in and through anyone that God chooses. In the case of the exile, God goes to an outsider, a non-believer to be the one to grant freedom to the captive Israelites. For today, our challenge is not for us to bring people to God, but to actually listen and perceive where God is already working. Our question for Epiphany has been “where have you seen God?” This question is far more important than we realize, because it challenges us to open our eyes and see where God might be working… not just inside the church, but in those places that we would never even think to look.Do not remember the former things, or consider the things of old.
I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?
To further his point, the prophet uses particular nuances in this passage that we often miss. After these more famous words, Isaiah 43 continues:
I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert. TheJackals and Ostriches, kind of an odd combination… but Israel’s book on nature wasn’t particularly large. In other English versions, these animals have been translated as dragons and owls. It’s less important as to what these animals were than what they represented: even the beasts and birds that were considered to be unclean honoured and worshipped God. Very clearly God is working completely outside of what the people of Israel had come to expect… Isaiah’s words are quite blunt, and many may have found them quite offensive. Worse yet, Isaiah’s not even finished yet:
wild animals will honor me, the jackals and the ostriches; for I give water in
the wilderness, rivers in the desert, to give drink to my chosen people, the
people whom I formed for myself so that they might declare my praise.
Yet you did not call upon me, O Jacob; but you have been weary of me, OYou’ve not done a very good job of living for me, God says, but immediately follows with this profound piece of good news:
Israel! You have not brought me your sheep for burnt offerings, or honored
me with your sacrifices. I have not burdened you with offerings, or wearied you
with frankincense. You have not bought me sweet cane with money, or satisfied
me with the fat of your sacrifices. But you have burdened me with your sins; you
have wearied me with your iniquities.
I, I am He who blots out your transgressions for my own sake, and I will not
remember your sins.
God says, “You’ve not done a very good job of living for me, but I am not going to hold it against you.” What is past is past, and what matters now is the future.
As hopeful as they are, these words from Isaiah have this edge to them that chafes at our complacency. Delivered to a people living in exile, who were longing for the good old days, this passage has not lost its edge over thousands of years. It reminds us that we need to spend less time remembering of how things were, and focus our energy on where God is calling us to be. As we move into our annual meeting today, maybe we can take these words to heart.
Amen.
Do not remember the former things, or consider the things of old.
I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?
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