Words Half Heard: Still Waiting in Hope

On Thursday, in darkness, I read the words of Isaiah:

Woe to those who call evil good and good evil,who put darkness for light and light for darkness,
who put bitter for sweet and sweet for bitter. Woe to those who are wise in their own eyesand clever in their own sight. . . who acquit the guilty for a bribe,but deny justice for the innocent.

In darkness I read of the tax bill passed and celebrated by those elected to serve the common good: a bill written by lobbyists, approved by legislators who didn't take time to read it, guaranteed to increased the national debt and to deepen the obscene divide between wealthy and working poor.

In the celebration I heard echoes of Isaiah: woe to those who call evil good and good evil.

2700 years ago, in a period of disruption and deepening injustice, prophetic voices, Isaiah among them, spoke out against dishonest leaders, corrupt business practices, oppression of strangers, misuse of workers.

They warned of famine, drought, barren land, social upheaval, danger from all sides. The situation they described was bleak; the days beyond, they said, would be harder still.

But somewhere in the future, beyond the hardship and destruction, they foresaw a new leader, a righteous shepherd, someone who would bring healing instead of harm, light instead of darkness. They spoke of a future day of justice, of plenty, when even the poor would have their own land to farm, their own homes to live in, when those who had been hungry would be filled with good things, when those who had oppressed would be brought low, and equity restored.

Hundreds of years later,in another time of disruption and injustice, in a time of almost global corruption and oppression, new voices spoke: angel voices, saying “The time is now.” “The promised one is coming.”

And a young woman from the edge, a powerless no one, found herself waiting as the angel’s voice took shape within her, then gave words herself to what she knew was coming:

Virgin of the Annunciation,
Fra Angelico, Florence, 1400s

“From now on all generations will call me blessed,

for the Mighty One has done great things for me—

holy is his name.

His mercy extends to those who fear him,

from generation to generation.

He has performed mighty deeds with his arm;

he has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts.

He has brought down rulers from their thrones

but has lifted up the humble.

He has filled the hungry with good things

but has sent the rich away empty.”

Her son Jesus - the promised child, the “word made flesh,” strange man of love and kindness who faced down the powerful, welcomed the outcast, healed the sick, raised the dead – Jesus fulfilled some of the prophecies made, but not all. He brought healing, but not justice. He restored individuals, but not nations. He calmed the sea, but left the desert places dry.

He spoke of his kingdom as here, but coming. Now, and not yet.

So some rejected him. He was not the One they’d been waiting for.

And some accepted the partial kingdom and assumed that was all there was: individual salvation. Personal healing. A promise of eternal life in the sweet bye and bye.

The rest that was promised – justice, restoration, redemption of nations, lands, all things – too good to be true. Leave it for heaven.

Advent, these days of waiting for Christ to come, of remembering the weeks before his birth, is a time of longing.

“Come thou long awaited Jesus, Come to set thy people free.” “Oh come, oh come, Emmanuel, and ransom captive Israel.”

We smother the waiting, the longing, in hurry: gift lists, parties to attend. Decorations, Christmas cards.

And we lose the connection between this time of disruption, unrest, injustice, and the promises made so many years ago.

Nativity, Fritz Eichenberg, 1954

But when we pause, we find the longing lingers.

For a way of life more satisfying, more fair.

For leaders more concerned for those they lead than their own financial gain.

For a wise use of resources, that leaves the land more healthy than it started.

For real community, real connections, honest conversation.

What am I waiting for this Christmas? What am I longing for?

Much of this post was written in 2011, during the Occupy movement, during my own first steps into political engagement.

I'm amazed to see how much further into inequity we've gone.

And far I've been drawn into the political dynamic.

And how much more deeply I'm longing for the vision Mary sang of.

I’m longing for those who claim the name of Christ to live as agents of his kingdom.

Yes, there are some, faithful followers, using their gifts, resources, time, energy, to demonstrate the kingdom Jesus told us was unfolding among us. I've been blessed to talk with leaders in POWER Interfaith, working for a living wage, for equitable school funding.

And encouraged by colleagues involved with the Pennsylvania Council of Churches - Advocacy, daily overwhelmed by the challenge and need.

And I'm always, ever thankful for my own church community, quick to feed the hungry, clear in opposition to oppressive policy.

But there are others, far too many others, who claim the name of "Christian" while promoting agendas of greed, environmental harm, penalties to the poor, more and more and more power to the rich. I carry that grief with me: "Woe to those who call evil good."

We pray, week after week, in churches around the globe, “thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven,” then hurry on our way with no thought of what that might mean, now, here, in this place we call home.

Isaiah prophesied seven hundred years before Christ:

“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.”

Jesus, standing in the synagogue at the start of his years of visible ministry, read that passage, then told all listening: “Today this is fulfilled in your hearing.”

But not all prisoners and oppressed were set free. Not all blind recovered sight. The poor are still waiting to hear the good news.

Jesus healing a leper, sketch by Rembrandt

I’m waiting for that. Longing for that.

And I’m waiting for those of us who follow Christ to live out the knowledge that while Jesus met, and meets, with people one by one, the intent was always to knit them into communities, families, the inter-woven, interdependent body of Christ, a visible community of light that extends around the globe, that reaches across time.

“Love each other,” Jesus said, again and again. And showed how to do it: touching lepers. Eating with sell-outs to the Roman regime. Allowing known prostitutes to touch him. Calmly crossing divides of race, religion, gender, to welcome and restore those who were rejected.

That’s what the church is supposed to look like. I see glimpses, now and then. But for the most part, the church is balkanized by race, politics, income level. Divided again and again over things like women in leadership, forms of baptism, liturgical nuance, exegesis of Genesis and Revelations.

Love each other? We look past each other – amputated body parts, ineffective in every way.

I long for Christians, myself included, to be real reflections of Christ. And I long for the church to be the church he had in mind a place of welcome, love, healing and generous equality.

And yes – I long for, wait for, pray for Christ to come. I pray for him to come, to me, in me, through me, every day.

And I pray for him to come to his church, his people, to be visible, to be known.

But I pray, too, for him to come again as the righteous judge, the king of glory, the great I AM: the one who will hold the unjust leaders accountable.

To set this mess right. To restore justice. To set the prisoners free.

What am I waiting for, this advent season? I’m waiting for the fulfillment of the vision of the prophets so long ago, working toward it, longing for it, praying for it every day, living toward others as if it's already here:

He will teach us his ways,

so that we may walk in his paths. . .

He will judge between many peoples

   and will settle disputes for strong nations far and wide.

They will beat their swords into plowshares

   and their spears into pruning hooks.

Nation will not take up sword against nation,

   nor will they train for war anymore.

Everyone will sit under their own vine

   and under their own fig tree,

and no one will make them afraid,

   for the Lord Almighty has spoken.

I set this blog down last spring as my work in Fair Districts PA became more demanding.

You can find out more about that work on our website, FairDistrictsPA.com, our Youtube channel, and a media webpage, Over the Line?, created by media outlets across Pennsylvania.

I'll be speaking about Justice and Gerrymandering: Faith Perspectives on Redistricting Reform at my home church, Church of the Good Samaritan, on Feb. 4, to be videoed for use in adult forums in churches across the state.

Please pray for me! God continues to lead, but I miss having time for reflection and fellowship and often feel far beyond my depth. I resonate with Isaiah: often overwhelmed, but willing to say "Here I am."

Earlier Advent posts:

Advent One: Post Truth?, Nov. 27, 2016
Advent Two: Shepherds and Strangers, Dec. 4, 2016

Advent Three: Repentance and Return, Dec. 11, 2016

Advent Four: Reality, Grief, Hope, Dec. 18, 2016

Advent One: Hope beyond Terror, Nov. 29,2015

Advent Two: Listening in the Desert, Dec. 6, 2015

Advent Three: Blessed Singularity, Dec. 13, 2015

Advent Four: For You, Dec. 20, 2015

Advent One: Hope is Our Work, Nov. 30, 2014

Advent Two: Peace is Our Promise, Prayer and Practice, Dec. 7, 2014

Advent Three: Love is the Air We Breathe, Dec. 14, 2014

Advent Four: Joy is the Song We're Given, Dec. 21, 2014

Advent One: Rethinking Portfolios, Dec. 1, 2013
Advent Two: Resisting Idols and Injustice, Dec. 8, 2013
Advent Three: Redefining Home, Dec. 15, 2013