In the face such poetry we should probably just sit here in silence for 10
minutes, but who can resist talking about Second Isaiah? You know, the great
theologian Rabbi Abraham Heschel, wrote that “In decisive times in our
history it dawns on us that we would not trade certain verses from Isaiah for
the Seven Wonders of the World.” And this passage must be one of them.
Can a mother forget her child? Well, our Brigid is 8 years younger than her
next sibling. I had already two years of precious freedom before she was born
on Holy Thursday of 1974. About a month later I was having some people over
for dinner and I saw that I needed whipping cream. So I popped into the old
Chrysler and dashed over to the Harrison Street A&P. So I am ambling down
the aisle toward the dairy case and on my left I see the Pampers stacked. I
just gasped out loud. I had forgotten that I had a new baby. And she was home
alone in her crib. I can’t describe to you the feeling inside me. I abandoned
the cart in mid aisle, tripped over a few toddlers I am sure, could not find
the car in the parking lot and believe me that one mile drive home was forever. When I came in the front door I looked down and my front was just soaked with
breast milk.
Brigid was fine of course. It was probably a good lesson for me that God is
God and I am not. But over the years it has made me think about how deeply
imbedded in our psyches and our bodies this motherhood is. And if those cords
of love are so strong in us, imagine how God is like that. How truly impossible
it would be for God to forget us.
Certainly Second Isaiah seems to be saying that. We know you don’t have
to be female to feel that kind of bond.
Second Isaiah wrote chapters 40-55 of the Book we know as Isaiah. He is an
otherwise unnamed prophet, not to be confused with First Isaiah of chapters
1-39 who lived in the eighth century. Second Isaiah is writing two centuries
later at the end of the exile. You will remember those familiar words from
the opening of his first chapter, “Comfort ye, comfort ye, my people." Speak
ye tenderly to Jerusalem and tell her etc.”.
Remember that the Jerusalem had been destroyed for the final time in 587 and
the Jews were deported to Babylon. They had been there 50 years when Cyrus
the Persian conquered Babylon and issued an edict that the Jews can return
to Jerusalem. So naturally there is spring in the air. But make no mistake,
they were somewhat comfortably ensconced there and considerably reduced in
numbers. I doubt the return looked like the Grand March from Aida.
So enter the prophet with encouragement, all in all a first class PR job aimed
at what might have been a somewhat complacent crowd. But God knows they needed
a lift.
But Second Isaiah is doing more here than just comforting the people. He’s
doing what the prophets do best: Calling them beyond their comfort zone, turning
upside down the status quo.
The first part of today’s reading recalls that memorable verse in 43:8: “Remember
not, the prophet writes, “the things of the past: See, I am doing something
new.”
The newness is of course about the restoration. But it is I think more deeply
about a new God who moves in and temporarily Discomforts the people, who challenges
them to think outside the box about their God.
A good example is right there in that quote we began with. I wonder how it
struck those people of this most patriarchal system that God loves us not only
as a father loves us but also as a mother loves us. He even speaks in a verse
just before this passage of God as a woman in labor. That’s even more
to the point.
Then there’s the paradox of this Cyrus. Second Isaiah is pointing out
to them that this is their liberator. This conqueror of Babylon who did not
even know God. He was a Persian, a pagan. How disconcerting for folks whose
liberators had names like Moses and David. Second Isaiah also spends a lot
of lines talking about a new God whose salvation will reach to the ends of
the earth. This sounds good to US—after all we were beyond the ends of
the earth—but a savior, a liberator who was not even a Jew? That was
really breaking the mold.
Finally a word about that comforting last line: “Upon the palms of my
hands I have written your names.” A wonderful consoling image of the
intimacy God wants with us. But I read the other day that in Babylonian cultures
slaves had the names of their masters tattooed on the palms of their hands. So who is THIS God? If He has OUR names on the palms of his hands, he is our
servant, not the other way around. He is the one who empties himself, labors
with us, helps them build the road back to Jerusalem, promising all the while
his unfailing Presence. This is a bit of an upside down God and a real development
from the God of the “outstretched arm” in Exodus.
Maybe Second Isaiah knew what Rowan Williams has said, that God has to be constantly
rediscovered.
And this is not an academic exercise for theology professors, but deeply affects
how we live.
Think, for example what connection there might be between our Catechism definitions
of God as the Unchanging, all- Powerful, and All-Knowing Prime Mover. Might
that watertight definition have any resonances with what we are seeing in the
crises of leadership in both our religious and political institutions? We all
want to be like God and it could be observed that some seem to have almost
succeeded, given that definition of God.
Alternatively, what would it be like to think of God as an adventurer instead
of the preserver of the status quo? What about picturing a God deep within
instead of on top of this universe? What about a God grieving with us at the
death of a 22 year old world class person and athlete? What about a God who
sings for joy with us at the birth of a healthy grand nephew? What about a
God who grounds and energizes our Creativity with Love? A god who partners
with us in this unfinished imperfect universe toward a future we cannot imagine.
What about a God as a risk taker? One who treasures our freedom and desires
to work with our choices? In short, as Ignatius puts it, a God who labors with
us.
I could be wrong. The world may already be that way. I still regress back to
that second grade classroom over there in 1946. Second Isaiah made me ask,
how is God crying out to be discovered right now? It made me wonder, how do
we experience this God’s presence? And how does this God operate? Ironically,
I think, Second Isaiah, alive today as 2500 yeas ago, gives us some pregnant
possibilities. I am going back to read it yet again and I invite you to do
the same. And maybe you will find for yourself those passages from Isaiah that
YOU would not trade for the Seven Wonders of the World.
