Daily Readings: Psalm 80:1-7; Isaiah 42:10-18; Hebrews 10:32-39

I will lead the blind by a road they do not know, by paths they have not known I will guide them. I will turn the darkness before them into light, the rough places into level ground. These are the things I will do, and I will not forsake them…. Listen, you that are deaf; and you that are blind, look up and see! Isaiah 10: 16, 18, NRSV

Second Isaiah (Isaiah chapters 40-55) was written by an anonymous author in the period immediately before the fall of Babylon in 539 BCE. In it is a description of the faithfulness of God to a people, the Hebrew people, who had been in exile for some 60 years in this foreign land. Here, the prophet addresses a people plagued with hopelessness regarding their future. So, it is curious that the beginning of this pericope starts with singing and praise, “Sing to the Lord a new song, his praise from the end of the earth…!” (Isaiah 42:10a) The prophet is calling the people of Israel, who have been exiled now for two or three generations, to do something new, to “sing a new song,” to rejoice in the praise of God even in the midst of their darkness and despair. 

How many of us from our own places of exile and imprisonment, where we feel alienated from God and from goodness can hear something like this? And yet, we must, we must hear the promise of God because it is clear. “I will lead the blind by a road they do not know, by paths they have not known I will guide them. I will turn the darkness before them into light the rough places into level ground. These are things I will do, and I will not forsake them…” Is this an invitation to a “blind faith?” Perhaps it is, but I ask you, can there be a more life-giving message to cling to in the dark? Can there be anything more worthy of our headlong pursuit than the promises of God?

I am reminded of the wonderful poem by Mary Oliver:

Moments

There are moments that cry out to be fulfilled.

Like, telling someone you love them.

Or giving your money away, all of it.

Your heart is beating, isn’t it?

You’re not in chains, are you?

There is nothing more pathetic than caution

When headlong might save a life, 

Even, possibly, our own. 
(Mary Oliver, Felicity; New York: Penguin Press, 2016, p.9)

For me, these words are a healing salve, the elixir to tide us over as we wait for the light to emerge. As we approach the coming Nativity with anticipation and excitement, let’s look up and see!

Offered by David Fredrickson, God’s beloved child.