First Presbyterian Church of Watertown

Isaiah 62 and John 2

“First Things First”

The Rev. Dr. Fred G. Garry

January 14, 2007

Understanding the prophet Isaiah is all about knowing his audience. In our reading today the prophetic tradition of Isaiah is speaking to people who are ready to cut and run, to give up and settle for just a decent life. He was speaking to the grandchildren of the Babylonian exiles. In the 570s before Christ, the Babylonians came and laid Jerusalem to waste. They left no stone unturned, pillaged, razed, and carted off the spoil which included every man women and child as slaves. These slaves were sold, conscripted, and worked to death as was the custom of the ancients. In our reading, chapter 62, Isaiah is speaking to the grandchildren of these slaves.

The grandchildren would have grown up hearing of the glory of Israel. They knew the words of psalm 137, O Jerusalem, if I forget you, let my right hand wither; let my mouth be mute if I don’t remember you and set Jerusalem as my highest joy. Jerusalem was the dream of the exiles, to see it again; to make the pilgrimage to Zion was the binding hope of the Judean slaves of Babylon.

Their grandchildren were given this opportunity. They were sent back to repopulate Palestine by Cyrus and Darius, kings of Babylon. It was a strategic move for the Babylonians. Repopulating Palestine would create a certain level of stability in this strategic part of the Levant, or way to the sea. For the grandchildren, fueled with the words of Isaiah, it was a moment filled with all sorts of meaning.

It was theological. God was doing this; God was restoring the land of Israel. It was a matter of justice. The punishment of Israel was over and now there would be redemption and restoration. It was a grand vision of the future. Israel would not only be restored, it would become the center of the world, a beacon of hope for all nations. Zion would be a place for all people of the world to worship God. And, it was also economic: the riches of the world were supposed to flow into Jerusalem as the grandchildren of the slaves would all be summoned to live as their ancestors did.

Now take all those levels, all those pictures and expectations and imagine a huge barren hilltop with some scattered stones, grass growing through the pavers of the streets, some ramshackle dwellings of the Samaritans. Imagine a place where shepherds wandered among the ruins. This was the image that greeted those who returned. At first it must have been a long pause and someone said, “well, it’s not that bad.”

But it was. And it didn’t take long for the grandchildren to grow disillusioned, to scale back what Jerusalem was to become. The great dream of Zion was quick to appear as a great delusion. The glory of Jerusalem was a hefty expectation under which the grandchildren of the exiles buckled.

Our reading from Isaiah is part of a long series of pep talks, rousing the newly freed slaves to see themselves as part of something truly profound. Yet the pep talk of our passage is not only meant for the Jews, but the God of Israel. Isaiah says, for Zion’s sake I will not keep silent, and for Jerusalem’s sake I will not rest, until her vindication shines out like the dawn, and her salvation like a burning torch. The nations shall see your vindication, and all the kings your glory. At first it might seem that Isaiah is not going to be silenced by the frustration of those called to rebuild the ruined city, but the audience Isaiah seeks is God and his issue is the seeming sluggishness of the Almighty.

Isaiah is saying, I will not rest, I won’t shut up, I won’t stop pleading this case before God. This is a strange image, one we don’t often consider with God. And Isaiah enlists help. And you who remind the Lord, take no rest, and give him no rest. In other words keep up this pleading, begging, praying. Give God no rest is the call of Isaiah here. Pester God without fail, without a break or even a moment of pause.

I don’t know about you, but that is a really unexpected image of God. Isaiah is saying God is someone who can be robbed of peace. If you have raised children then at some point, unless the laws of nature for you were somehow suspended, at some point one of your children pestered you without rest, without ceasing. They wanted something, needed something, needed to say something and have your attention, and they didn’t give up. They just kept at it like a broken record.

What an interesting picture. I wonder if this is what the church should be. I say should be as we are not. We pray for peace, hope for the salvation of all people, and we even pray for the restoration of a place like Jerusalem, but we are not any where close to the level Isaiah is calling for. What if we prayed for peace in Jerusalem so much we robbed God of rest? What if we begged for the widow’s of Mzuzu so much that God couldn’t get a moment of peace? As I find it a fascinating idea, I am convinced that such is not part of my experience. It is still on the level of “what if”.

It would take nearly 500 years for Jerusalem to be remade unto a city of glory. The temple, the streets, the walls were all restored. Yet, it would be an ironic answer to prayer. Jerusalem was rebuilt by its conquerors. The Babylonians were defeated by the Egyptians; the Egyptians were defeated by the Greeks, and the Greeks by the Romans. And the dreams of Isaiah would slowly come to fruition as Jerusalem’s glory was restored by the interest and investment of its conquerors.

By the time of Jesus, Jerusalem was nearing what Isaiah had called for. It’s fair to say that he had hoped for 50 years and that it took 500 should not be ignored. But nonetheless, Jerusalem was a city set high on a hill once again. It was an icon as it were. And people looked to the next phase of the vision, the idea that from Zion would come world peace, from Jerusalem a light would shine and all would be transformed by its glory.

Forty years after Jesus this dream would be dashed yet again. The Romans, who truly brought Jerusalem to its grandest scale since Solomon, dismantled the city, burned it, sacked it to the ground. It was emptied and the temple wiped from the face of the earth. To this day, the only remnant of the temple is a small portion of the foundation, the walls that were built to form its base. In spite of this the dream of Zion persists. Isaiah’s dreams and pestering has never truly ceased.

This week I was given President Jimmy Carter’s book, Peace Not Apartheid. Chapter after chapter you can hear Carter’s take on the failed efforts to implement U.N. Resolution 242 in Israel. This is the resolution which would broker a stable peace in Palestine. Carter’s views should be valued for as president he was privy to information and people that gives his opinions profound weight. Ultimately he is making a case that Israel has forsaken peace for apartheid with the wall they are building around the West Bank and the way they are bleeding Palestinians dry by gerrymandering the border to give themselves all the water.

Again, Carter’s views are to be valued and trusted not only for his unique experience, but for the integrity of his voice. Yet, for the most part, politically speaking, the book was predictable and mapping no new territory. Carter’s call for the rigorous implementation of U.N. Resolution 242 is neither new nor plausible given the current political climate in the Middle East. What was new and truly intriguing about his book was Carter’s expression of faith. Carter is a true believer in peace, this is well known, but what comes clear in his book was his share in Isaiah’s hopes; he is a believer in Isaiah. Carter sees peace in Jerusalem not so much in terms of justice for the Palestinians and security for Israel as much as he sees it in terms of what could Zion mean to the world.

Jerusalem has nearly become what Isaiah dreamed of: it is the center of faith for the lion share of the world. Jews, Christians, Muslims all look to Jerusalem as an icon of faith. For instance, as long as we are not talking about Jerusalem I can speak with a great deal of pragmatism about Palestine. But as soon as the Church of the Holy Sepulcher comes to the forefront I start to sound like Isaiah and so does Carter. Boundaries, wells, reparations, security measures, all are fine and well; give up Jerusalem, take a stand of indifference about the city, not a chance.

He’s a believer. And, if truth be told, so am I. Reading Isaiah’s call for Zion this week I found myself ready to sign up, to dream, to pester God if that is what it takes for Zion to be what it must be: the light to all the nations. For this reason, truly, we both need to heed the message of the wedding at Cana.

The wedding at Cana is only found in John and it comes right before Jesus goes to Jerusalem and cleans out the temple. The story is a kind of antidote to the schemes and big plans of the serious and well intended- the politically astute. In a nutshell, Jesus goes to a wedding; the party is so wild they burn through all the wine in short order and Mary tells Jesus to help out the family. At first he balks but then relents. In essence he provides the wedding party with 500 to 700 bottles of wine. If there were 200 to 300 people that is a few bottles of wine for everyone in attendance. And mind you, this was after the party had already consumed the wine which was deemed enough.

This story could have simply been recorded as a moment of extravagance had it not been for one small but important detail: the water jars. The stone jars meant for purification which contained the 120 to 150 gallons of water become wine, and good wine at that, were part of the rituals of Judaism of his day. It was the intent of the religious to achieve Isaiah’s dream through perfection, through ritual purity. People in Jesus’ day washed in pure rain water once or twice a day to restore their relationship with God, to maintain the vigilance Isaiah called for. When Jesus changed the water to wine he ruined the jars, for their great value was kept only if they had always contained nothing but pure rain water.

Now, again, this might just be a strange but trivial aspect were it not for the Gospel writer saying, this was the first sign. The water to wine was the first sign of Jesus being the messiah, the one who would fulfill Isaiah’s dream of Zion. And here is where the rub comes in. For centuries the vigilance Isaiah called for had been attempted in politics, in religious practice, in personal piety and prayer. Like Carter and his call for peace not apartheid is a great example of this. His voice is a vigilant appeal to God to restore Zion as Isaiah dreamed. Yet, it is not the vigilance, the kind of appeal Jesus offered in Cana.

In effect, Jesus is saying, if you want to see the temple restored unto purity, the dream of Zion fulfilled, the hope of Isaiah made flesh, the first step, the initial leap of faith is not purity or politics or power or resolutions, but joy. The stone jars were all about getting it right, being resolved to live a life that is true and just and holy; the stone jars were the vigilant prayers of the faithful to see Isaiah’s dream come true. Yet, in essence, Jesus ruins them with wine, and a lot of wine. For the people of his day, for his audience this was an image that shouted, Zion will be restored, Jerusalem will be a light to the nations, not by those who are perfect, but by those who begin with joy.

A vigilant joy, a joy that gives God no rest, a wild happiness- this was the sign Jesus offered before he headed to Jerusalem and cleaned out the temple.

What if the church is to be just this? What if we set joy as our first criteria? World peace, justice for all, and dignity for the downcast, but first joyfulness. What if joy is not the fruit, but the root of life? What if the image of Cana was meant to turn the apple cart upside down? Work, and fight, and struggle, and keep your head down, and then someday, someday if you are lucky you will see a bright tomorrow. Hold fast, don’t let up, keep your eyes wide and never give up and all of this will add up to a modicum of peace and happiness. At Cana Jesus turned this upside down.

What if there was a U.N. resolution that Jerusalem would be a city of joy? In a sense this is what Jesus declared at Cana. Joy first, then work. Joy is the first sign of seeing Isaiah’s dream come true. What if the church is to live this, be this? Can you see your life as having joy before all else? A vigilant joy, what if this is the first step of real peace for all? What if joy is the root of peace, not its fruit? Amen.