Printer Friendly VersionThe waiting room can be a gloomy place…a room of high anxiety,
frazzled nerves, and deep despair.
One of my earliest memories of this “room of gloom”
occurred in my second ministry assignment. Don and Becky were faithful leaders
in this small town church – and they had become dear friends. For 26
years they enjoyed a loving marriage and family life, good health, and successful
careers. They were pillars of the church, the kind of folk every pastor loves
to include as part of the flock.
But Becky began to suffer from severe headaches. Extensive tests
concluded that she had a large mass at the base of her skull – possibly
a “brain tumor.” Risky surgery was scheduled. And that is how Don
and I ended up in the hospital waiting room. From the very first moments in
that room, the air was heavy with worry. And as minutes of waiting became
hours, our anxiety level increased.
The waiting room can be a gloomy place, indeed!
The people of Israel lived in dark and desperate times. Just
as the prophets had warned, the people’s unfaithfulness to God had delivered
disastrous results. The capture of their beloved Jerusalem, the destruction
of their Temple, and the deportation of their key leadership into Babylonian
exile had taken the wind out of Israel’s sails. No longer was she the
proud nation standing on the promises of her God. The unthinkable had actually
happened – Israel had been overrun by the Babylonians.
And when times are tough, and things go wrong, and there is
no where else to turn – Israel does what we all do when our world falls
apart – Israel cries out in pain and desperation to her God! This is
the only way Israel knows how to cope with pain, crisis, and desperate need.
She does what people of faith always do – she prays. “O God, it
is time for you to act! ‘O that you would tear open the heavens and come
down’…Come down to us God, and save us from our terrible plight!”
Our passage is actually part of a longer lament – or “intense
cry for help” – that begins with Isaiah 63:7. Why is this cry of
despair so intense? Because Israel knows her history – God has always
dealt graciously, in praiseworthy ways, showing mercy and steadfast love to
this people. God has always called Israel “my people” and been their
savior in times of distress. It is God’s presence that saved them, in
love and pity God had redeemed them, God always lifted them and carried them.”
That is why the people are bold to ask God to deliver them again
– God has always been ready, willing and able to deliver them. Their
cry for help is laced with strong remembrances of God’s faithfulness
in the past: “You, O Lord are our father; our Redeemer from of old is
your name…You came down before – and mountains quaked, and nations
trembled – there is no God like you!”
This is why God’s people pray. We know that God hears and
answers our prayers. We know that when we come to the end of our rope and
the end of ourselves, God will come through for us and deliver us. We affirm
it in our hymns and songs: Great is Thy Faithfulness, God Will Make a Way,
I Will Sing of the Mercies of the Lord Forever, God is Good, All the Time!”
But not this time! Days and months have turned into years and
decades, and Israel is still in exile. Now, it seems, God has abandoned them!
Have you ever felt abandoned by God? Have you ever asked, “Whatever happened
to the good old days – when we could count on God’s mercy and love?”
Listen to the accusations that Israel makes toward her God in
chapter 63: “God has become our enemy and fought against us…Where
is the one who brought us up out of the sea? Where are your zeal and your
might, the yearning of your heart and your compassion? Why, O Lord, do you
make us stray from your ways and harden our heart, so that we do not fear
you? You are treating us as if we were not your people!” God is being
accused of parental abandonment!
Now, the people do admit that part of the problem is due to
their own failure. The lament is quite open and honest about that. Israel
knows no other way to speak to God than with utmost candor. Israel knows that
she cannot hide her sins from God, and so she confesses to God in the lament
prayer: “We have sinned…we have transgressed…we have all become
like one who is unclean.”
Two powerful images describe Israel’s sinful condition.
First, she has become like a filthy cloth, so impure and contaminated that
she is untouchable and useless. Second, she is like a faded leaf, weak and
vulnerable to the wind, destined for oblivion. Yes, Israel has sinned, and
placed her own future in jeopardy by her failure to walk faithfully with her
God.
But the problem is more complicated than this! The exile has
created a true theological crisis. Bad things are just not supposed to happen
to the chosen people who walk in covenant with the God of the universe. How
could God abandon his beloved people? Where is God’s steadfast love?
Where is God’s zeal and might? Doesn’t God care about us? Is God’s
power too weak to save us?
This lament goes so far as to call into question the very character
of God! God, are you there? God, do you care? Such brutal honesty! This is
the only way Israel knows to speak to her God – a God who has been so
consistently faithful in the past. It is as if she is saying, “Come on
God, we’ve given you more than enough time to act! We want results –
and we want them now!”
The waiting room is like that! If the surgery takes longer than
expected, our patience wears thin and the intensity of our anxiety takes over.
We want results – and we want them now!
As Don and I sat there through the day, every intercom voice,
every passing doctor, every opening door nibbled away at our hope. As the
afternoon trudged on, with no word from the surgeon, the dread of despair
settled in on my friend’s countenance. The silence of the surgeon was
unbearable!
If only a messenger from the operating room would come and give
us an update! Is there no one to bring us some news – some word to restore
our hope? Even the waiting room would be tolerable if we knew what was going
on in the operating room just down the hall!
Thankfully, the prophet has such a word to speak to Israel in
her waiting room of despair!
The entire passage turns on a single word, the first word of
verse 8 – “nevertheless.” The people have voiced their expectations
and frustrations. They have admitted their complicity in the situation, but
have also indicted their God for failure to come to the rescue. They have
questioned God’s own character as a faithful and sovereign God –
not in a spirit of rebellion, but out of desperation and pain. Have our sins
finally cut us off from your mercy and power? That is our greatest fear, isn’t
it?
And the prophet answers with the Word of the Lord: Nevertheless
– you are still our Father, and we are still your children. There is
power in those personal, possessive pronouns – our Father and your children.
They speak of relationship and ownership – of ancient claims made that
are still in operation today. You are our God – we are your children.
This is the good news that comes to us in the waiting room: Stronger than
our failure is God’s loving commitment toward us! God has not abandoned
us!
But it is not only God’s presence that is reaffirmed here.
The prophet continues: “We are the clay, and you are our potter.”
This powerful image reminds us that God is still sovereign, God is still in
control, and God has not finished molding and shaping us as a people of God’s
own possession.
“Can I not do with you, O house of Israel, just as this
potter has done?” says the LORD. Just like the clay in the potter's hand,
so are you in my hand, O house of Israel. (Jeremiah 18:6) The messenger reminds
us that God’s power is not limited, in spite of our present circumstances!
Finally, the clay yields to the will of the potter. Even so do we yield to
the will of our Creator and Redeemer!
Yes, sometimes we are paralyzed by the fear that God has abandoned
us. We, like Israel, think that God is not there, that God does not care,
and that God’s power just does not apply to our deep need! All the evidence
seems to point that way. We have been waiting so long, and there has been
nothing to encourage us to keep on waiting, watching, and praying. Nothing…except
the word of the Lord!
Finally, about 4:00 in the afternoon, a nurse comes out to speak
to us in the waiting room. “I have a message from the operating room
– the surgeon ran into some unforeseen complications – the surgery
was much more dangerous and delicate than we first thought – but thankfully,
she is a wonderful surgeon, quite caring and capable – and she has found
and remedied the problem. It wasn’t a tumor, after all. The surgery required
wisdom, stamina, and a delicate touch. But your wife is going to be just fine!
She is headed for the recovery room. You can see her in two hours.
Suddenly, the waiting room is not a gloomy place! It has been
transformed into a glorious place!
How do we account for such a transformation? It is only because
of the word of the messenger! We have heard the good news: ours is a faithful
and skillful physician. This word, spoken to us in the waiting room of doubt
and fear, has given us new power to wait in hope. The next two hours pass
in no time. Now our waiting is like a young lover at the airport, standing
on tiptoe, awaiting the arrival of her beloved… like an eager 8 year-old,
sitting on the edge of his seat at his very first Cubs game, waiting for the
first pitch… like a first-time grandma to be, sitting in the waiting
room in joyful anticipation, for in the next few moments, her son-in-law will
race into the room and cry, “It’s a boy!”
That is the gift of Advent. We await the glad news of Christmas morn: “It’s a boy!” But not just any boy! Advent is God’s hope-empowering message to us. The gift of Jesus Christ means that God has not abandoned us, God has not forgotten us, God has not forsaken us. Jesus is God’s Word of hope spoken to us in our waiting room of despair. We may be in the waiting room now, but God is still our God, and we are still his people. Yes, God works for those who wait for him. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
