Isaiah 61--Waiting for the World to Change

Isaiah 61 and Luke 4:14-28

A friend told me today that her brother and his wife are expecting a baby. A few years ago, this brother was diagnosed with a brain tumor. After extensive chemotherapy, his life, and his MRIs, are back to normal. To top it all off, there is now an against-all-odds baby on the way.

When we hear stories like these, we sigh and we think of our God who gives us beauty for ashes; the God who softens painful memories by leading us to good ones. We think about our Redeemer.

And yet, some of our brothers don’t have miraculous baby stories. Sometimes our brothers lose three babies, only to lose four more the following year. Sometimes it seems like God gives us ashes for ashes. I hate to tell my sad story again, girls, but this is where I was when I fell in love with Isaiah 61. I was among the grieving, the mourning, the desperate. I wondered how God could leave us empty-handed and broken-hearted twice. I was waiting for my Redeemer to come.

On a much larger scale, Israel had to wonder the same things. During Isaiah’s ministry, the northern kingdom fell to Assyria and was sent into exile. The southern kingdom watched and waited for Assyria to keep on marching and take it as well. Judah would eventually fall to Babylon, and more of God’s people would be exiled. They would languish in a strange land, waiting for redemption. They would return, rebuild the temple, only to be taken over by the Romans—all the while reading this text in their assemblies, waiting, wondering when their Redeemer would come.

So imagine that day in Luke 4. The carpenter’s son goes into His hometown synagogue. He unrolls the scroll, finds the place He’s looking for and reads,
“The Spirit of the Lord is on me,
because he has anointed me
to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners
and recovery of sight for the blind,
to set the oppressed free,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

Then, He sits down and tells His audience, “Today this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing.”

Can you imagine? Just reading it makes my heart soar. I want to yell, “That’s my Jesus!!” The Sabbath crowd in Nazareth reacts differently. What they’ve been waiting for—for generations—is in their midst, but they don’t realize He is the One Isaiah proclaimed. They’re looking for something that matches their idea of redemption—a great political leader, an overthrow of the Romans—not the carpenter’s son.

I have my own plans for redemption too. I want the divine quid-pro-quo. If my suffering is loneliness, I want fellowship. If my suffering is loss, I want gain. If my suffering is injustice, I want cosmic lightning bolts to strike my enemy.

But God’s picture of redemption doesn’t match mine. God’s plan to redeem His people is much grander than the daily tit-for-tat I often long for. God’s plan came to its apex when Jesus died. It was by this act that He freed the captives and released the prisoners. When we are broken-hearted and desperate for redemption, we don’t have to wait for our Redeemer to come. We can point to the cross and know that redemption is done.

At the same time, we also hope and wait for the year of the Lord’s favor; for the ultimate redemption and restoration we will experience when Christ returns. Some stories will have happy endings in this life, some will not be resolved until His return.

Knowing this, how do we wait for the Lord’s favor? Where should we place our hope in the meantime?

What were the Israelites hoping for? Why did they miss Jesus when He was sitting in their synagogue? What can we learn from their example?

Walls of Salvation and Gates of Praise

Today I do not want a palace. I do not want golden rings, diamond earrings, or a new shirt from J. Crew. Today I crave peace, I yearn for righteousness, and I am dying to just be like Jesus. I feel keenly the need for gifts that are eternal.

Reading Isaiah 60 I start to question God's promises-- of herds of camel, silver and gold, the wealth of nations, captives, and people that bow before me. As valuable as these things are, I cannot help but think that I'd far rather have the house of wood and stone, with a peaceful chimney poking out of it, than all of the bronze doors and silver pillars to adorn a castle (ref. verse 17).

Then I read it again. "Although you have been forsaken and hated," and I realize I have not necessarily been forsaken by man but by my own wayward heart, hated not by man but by the ways of the world, "...with no one traveling through," and I realize that a desolate pride roars through the halls of my heart like a vagrant wind carring debris and dead leaves, "I will make you the everlasting pride and the joy of all generations," and here the Voice crescendos and tells me that my soul will be full of the wealth of my God.

Isaiah is not promising an earthly kingdom to all the generations to come, but rather a spiritual kingdom. Ladies, this is not a promise of what is to come but of what IS. This is Jesus speaking to my marrow and telling me that while I bask in the sunshine it could be taken away and still His holiness would fill me. "The sun will no more be your light by day, nor will the brightness of the moon shine on you, for the LORD will be your everlasting light, and your God will be your glory."

Meditate on that, sistas.

Some further thought...
1. Read verse 20, "Your sun will never set again, and your moon will wane no more; the LORD will be your everlasting light, and your days of sorrow will end." Is this a promise for the future, or is it a promise for now? Think about how Katie has encouraged us to consider Heaven being a present reality.