Construction crew (a sermon for Advent 2)

I wonder what comes to mind as you heard the prophet Isaiah’s words this morning about mountains and hills lowered and rough places smoothed and valleys raised up. I must confess that my mind goes to the five truck friends in the busy construction site picture books Wade loves so much. In our most recent acquisition, called Construction Site on Christmas Night, the dump truck, crane, bulldozer, cement mixer, and excavator are working hard to build a brand-new fire station. Foundations are dug out and then filled in with cement, yards of dirt are moved from one place to another, and boulders and obstacles are removed to make room for a smooth road. 

Photo by Shane McLendon on Unsplash

For the purposes of the story, somehow all of this happens in a few days leading up to Christmas night. In reality, of course, it takes time and effort (and did I mention time?) for massive earth-moving projects like Isaiah describes. It’s often tedious and monotonous work, and back-breaking without the help of all those constructions trucks! But once the holes are filled and the hills of dirt spread out and the piles of debris removed, the transformation can be breathtaking. With everything smoothed out, we can see things we’d never noticed before. I still do a double-take every time we walk past the lot where South Side Elementary used to be, taking in the houses across the alley instead the mountains of cement and rebar and yes, trucks, that occupied that lot for so long.  

The smoothing and leveling described in Isaiah are done quite purposefully. The goal? To prepare the way of the Lord, so that the glory of the Lord will be revealed. It is tedious work, hopeful work. Isaiah is writing to a people desperately in need of reminders of God’s presence. Exiled in Babylon, they have been separated from their homeland, their rituals, their Temple. The glory of the Lord must have felt awfully far away. Finally, here, the prophet announces comfort and peace. God has not forgotten them, nor will their sins hang over their heads forever. God is coming! God will gather them up like lambs, and gently lead them home.

We, too, are eager to hear the announcement of God’s nearness. We, too, are in need of comfort, in need of a level path on which to walk with God and with one another. And yet, a smooth, wide “way of the Lord” is sometimes difficult to imagine when we’re surrounded by so many obstacles and barriers that hide God’s glory. Dismantling systems of oppression and mountains of privilege takes time and intention. The work of lifting up those stuck in valleys of poverty and wealth inequality is often met with condescension and resistance. Illness, debt, broken relationships, addiction, hopelessness, depression, fear, sin that leaves us curved in on ourselves – so many things make it hard to see God’s presence in our midst.

What good news it is, then, that the promise of God’s glory being revealed is the promise of Advent. Even here, even now, God’s glory is revealed in the birth of a helpless baby to a family that will flee to another country for refuge. God’s glory is revealed in the strength and faithfulness of a young woman, unmarried but found to be with child. God’s glory is revealed on the margins, and in unexpected places, among people who are lost and fearful and desperately in need of good news. Whether we’re ready or not, whether we notice or not, and despite our best efforts to the contrary, God is coming, and indeed God has come. 

When the obstacles are eliminated; when uneven ground becomes level and the rough places a plain, when valleys are lifted up and mountains and hills are made low, then all people shall see together God’s already-revealed glory. People far and wide will see it and experience it, will know God’s deep and abiding love for all of creation. Nothing will stand in the way. 

In the meantime, as the way is prepared, perhaps we are called to be the heavy-equipment operators. The dump truck and bulldozer drivers, the earth-movers, the obstacle-dismantlers. However long it takes, however tedious the work, we follow God’s call to dig and fill and move anything and everything that stands in the way of the revelation of God’s glory, beginning with our own privilege and prejudice and sinfulness. 

As the dirt is removed and the holes filled in, we catch glimpses of God’s glory revealed in acts of love, selflessness, and generosity. God’s glory is revealed when we care for one another. God’s glory is revealed when we seek the good of our neighbors, even at the expense of our own desires and comfort. God’s glory is revealed through radical acts of forgiveness, and displays of mercy. God’s glory is revealed in word and water, bread and wine.

Walking in forgiveness and newness of life, having glimpsed God’s glory, we are called to lift our voices to share the news of God’s presence and the hope of God’s promises. “Get you up to a high mountain, O Zion, herald of good tidings; lift up your voice with strength, O Jerusalem, herald of good tidings, lift it up, do not fear; say to the cities of Judah, ‘Here is your God!’”

We are the heralds of good tidings! We are the ones called to proclaim God’s presence to one another! The words of comfort and reassurance that Isaiah speaks are also for us, when we find ourselves trudging through the wilderness, and grumbling in the desert places, and for any time and place where it seems impossible that God could be present. 

We are a nation and a world desperately in need of good news. Disease, division, and death leave us feeling fearful and sad. We need the kind of transformation and comfort that Isaiah so beautifully describes. Take heart - God is here, and there will be a path through this wilderness. Take heart - God’s glory has been revealed, and all people - all people - will see it together.

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