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The Rev. Richard Floyd Ridgefield-Crystal Lake Presbyterian Church Ordinary 2 A Isaiah 49:1-7 January 16, 2005 Isaiah 49 is one of the so-called "servant songs" of Isaiah. There are several of these songs, describing a mysterious figure called the "servant of God." We don't know who this servant was, and even Isaiah doesn't seem to know. The servant could be anyone. It could be you; it could be me; it could be all of us together. Whoever the servant is, she's been chosen by God, and she's having a very hard time because of it. Things are not going well for the servant in Isaiah 49. She begins by telling us how she's been called by God and gifted for service. Her mouth is like a sharp sword; she's like a polished arrow. She's sharp, efficient, committed, good at what she does. And yet, despite all her gifts, despite all her skills, despite all her efforts, she feels like a failure. Her mouth may be like a sharp sword, but her words don't seem to cut through anything these days. And she may be like a polished arrow, but she can't seem to hit her target anymore. "I have labored in vain," she says. "I have spent my strength for nothing." Last week we celebrated the baptism of Jesus and remembered our own baptisms. We touched the water and reminded ourselves that we were children of God and that we belong to God forever. That sounded pretty good. What we only hinted at was that, right after God says, "You are my beloved child" God also says "You are my chosen servant." So all of us who touched that water, and even those of who didn't, there's no getting away from it: we are servants of God. We might wish God had chosen someone else, because being chosen by God is not always a walk in the park. As Tevye says to God in the musical Fiddler on the Roof: "I know we're the chosen people, but couldn't you choose someone else once in a while." But it's too late for that. We are, each and every one of us, God's chosen servant. And that means this song from Isaiah is our song, too. So maybe you can relate to how the servant feels. You pour yourself out trying to do good, but the world keeps on sneering at you or ignoring you, and nothing ever changes. You try to be giving, and people take advantage of you. You try to be loving, and people use you and abuse you. You give and you give and you give and it just doesn't seem to make a bit of difference. You can harvest everything you've got and share the bounty, you can work in the food pantry and hand out bag after bag of food, and still people are hungry, and still things never get any better. So you start to feel bitter, and why shouldn't you? You resent people for not helping; you resent people for needing help in the first place. You've let the world take you apart piece by piece, and now you feel like you've got nothing left to give and nothing left to show for it. So you say to God, "I have labored in vain, I have spent my strength for nothing." I turn in my resignation. You need to go find someone more qualified for this servant business, someone who won't waste the gifts you've given them. I'm all washed up and burnt out. I'm empty; I've failed. Maybe you've felt this way at some point in your life. The servant in Isaiah has bottomed out, and she's ready to hang it up. ...And that's exactly the moment God's been waiting for. It's about time you gave up, God says. Now I've got an even better job for you. I will give you as a light to the nations, that my salvation may reach the end of the earth. Do you see the twisted divine logic at work here? Fail at a big task, and get an even bigger one. God would never make a good business manager. But God's not trying to run a business. God's trying to bring salvation to the end of the earth, and to do that, God needs servants. But only a special kind of servant will do. God doesn't need people who've got it all together, who know exactly what they're going to do and exactly how they're going to do it. God doesn't need people who rely on their own strength. God needs people who have been emptied, who have tried it their own way and realized it doesn't work. God needs people who have exhausted their own strength and so are ready to rely on God's strength. You can see this in all the servants of God throughout history. Jesus failed in every way that matters to our world: no education, no wealth, no status, no power in any conventional sense. He died alone, a state criminal, abandoned by his friends, totally emptied and poured out. And yet throughout his life he relied on God's strength and kept alive God's vision for the world. And that vision was contagious; it was stronger than death; Jesus passed it on to his followers and they passed it on to others. And the world was changed forever. Of course there have been other servants of God, people who have been emptied, people who have relied on God's strength and God's vision for the world. And wherever you find one of these servants, the world changes. A soft-spoken man named Mahatmas Ghandi overthrows the British Empire in India without firing a shot. A prisoner named Nelson Mandela is set free and overturns the powers of apartheid in South Africa. An unassuming woman named Rosa Parks refuses to move to the back of the bus and a system of segregation begins to collapse. A black Southern Baptist preacher named Martin Luther King, Jr., dreams of a day when his children will have the freedoms and opportunities promised to every child in America and his inspiration and courage change the hearts and the laws of our nation. These and countless other servants of God, in large and small ways, relied on God's strength. They saw a world no one else could see; they saw the world God intended to be. That hopeful vision empowered them to endure struggles and failures, to be emptied and poured out, so that they might be a light to the nations, so that God's salvation might reach the end of the earth. So what about us? We are, each and every one of us, servants of God. God will not accept our resignations. As long as we're here, we're still on duty. We know the road ahead will be a difficult one. We know there will be struggles and failures. We know we will be emptied and poured out. But that's only the beginning. For just at the moment when our strength fails us, God will become our strength. Just at the moment when our vision for the world begins to fade, God's vision will take its place: a vision of peace and justice, a world free from suffering and oppression, a world where mourning and crying and pain will be no more. The story is told of a man in a small village. It was his job, every day, to go down to the river and collect water for the village. But the village was poor, and the man was poor, and he couldn't afford new pots to carry the water. Instead he had to use the same old pots he'd been using for years, and they were broken and cracked, so water would leak out of the pots as he made his way from the river to the village. He would lose a lot of water this way, and he was very troubled. If he didn't bring enough, people might go thirsty. So he would make as many trips to the river as he could, always loosing water along the path as he went. On his way back from the river one day, he came upon a village elder walking along the path. He told the elder that he was exhausted and depressed. It was his job to bring water to the village, but because of his broken pots, he was failing. You have not been failing, the elder told him. Not only have you brought us enough water to survive, but you have brought us beauty as well. The elder pointed back along the path, and for the first time the man looked down and saw that beautiful flowers had sprung up all along the path where the water had fallen. So, servants of God, if you're feeling exhausted and depressed, if you're feeling like a failure and you're ready to resign, if you're feeling empty and poured out, take heart! You are exactly where God wants you to be. God will become your strength, and God's vision will renew your hope, and the world will never be the same. |