"Tearing Open the Heavens”

A Meditation for Communion by the Rev. Dr. Hilary J. Barrett for Advent 1

Preached at Pleasantville United Church of Christ, November 30, 2008

Isaiah 64:1-9 & Mark 13:24-37

“O that you would tear open the heavens and come down!”

(Isaiah 64:1-3)

On Wednesday mornings at 10:00 a.m., a group of more than a dozen stalwart souls gather to participate in a bible study on the prophet Isaiah.  We’re more than half-way through the class now and it’s been a whirlwind-tour.  There’s a lot to know about Isaiah.  He lived in tumultuous times; saw the reign of four different kings; prophesied over the course of 60 years, experienced the transition of leadership from one king to another – and any transition of power can be an uncertain time.  He watched the rise and fall of nations as they battled around him for control of strategic lands and valuable natural resource.  He warned his king and his nation of their approaching doom; their catastrophic destruction as a result of their own folly.  And as we read chapter after chapter of Isaiah’s terrifying promises, we cannot help but be struck by how current this book still is, though his prophecies be almost three thousand years old now.

Isaiah is a prophet we often meet during the seasons of Advent and Christmas and whether we know it or not, many of us are already familiar with some of his writings. 

The people who walked in darkness
have seen a great light;
those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness,
on them has light shined.
…
For to us a child is born,
to us a son is given;
and the government will be upon his shoulder,
and his name will be called
"Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace."

(Isaiah 9:2 & 6, Revised Standard Version)

The wolf shall dwell with the lamb,
and the leopard shall lie down with the kid,
and the calf and the lion and the fatling together,
and a little child shall lead them.
The cow and the bear shall feed;
their young shall lie down together;
and the lion shall eat straw like the ox.
…
They shall not hurt or destroy
in all my holy mountain;
for the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the LORD
as the waters cover the sea.

(Isaiah 11:1- 9, Revised Standard Version)

Comfort, comfort my people,

says your God.
Speak tenderly to Jerusalem,
and cry to her
that her warfare is ended,
that her iniquity is pardoned,
that she has received from the LORD's hand
double for all her sins.
A voice cries:
"In the wilderness prepare the way of the LORD,
make straight in the desert a highway for our God.
Every valley shall be lifted up,
and every mountain and hill be made low;
the uneven ground shall become level,
and the rough places a plain.
And the glory of the LORD shall be revealed,
and all flesh shall see it together,
for the mouth of the LORD has spoken."

(Isaiah 40:1-5, 21^st, Revised Standard Version)

These are some of the most famous words of promise and hope that the scriptures have ever recorded.  And they are spoken to a people who have been getting their butts whipped over and over again.  Think Mumbai; think Darfur; think Baghdad – and you get a sense of what Isaiah’s people were living through, and what they were going to live through.

Comfort, comfort my people,
says your God.
Speak tenderly to Jerusalem,
and cry to her
that her warfare is ended…

That would be good news indeed.

Whether we know it or not, the words of the prophet Isaiah are probably inside us to some degree – if we’ve ever sung a Christmas Carol; if we’ve ever worshiped in a church on Christmas Eve; if we’ve ever sung Handel’s, “Messiah,” if we’ve ever purchased a Christmas card with the words, “Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace” on the cover.  These words are inside us.  Words of hope and words promise:

"For you shall go out in joy,
and be led forth in peace;
the mountains and the hills before you
shall break forth into singing,
and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.”

                        (Isaiah 55:12)

But the chances are also good that the chapter we read this morning, the one that opens this Advent season, is not so well known:

O that you would tear open the heavens and come down,
   so that the mountains would quake at your presence—
as when fire kindles brushwood
   and the fire causes water to boil—
to make your name known to your adversaries,
…so that the nations might tremble at your presence!

“O that you would tear open the heavens and come down…!”  This is a very different kind of communication.  In biblical literature, this is called a “lament” – a cry to God for help that comes out of fear and bewilderment and pain: “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down…!” because there’s trouble here, Lord – and we need your help. 

And sometimes the lament becomes more insistent; it’s no longer a polite request.  It isn’t the kind of quiet weeping where a single tissue held daintily between thumb and forefinger will suffice.  No this is loud and this isn’t polite; this is something more than we’re used to in church:

“O that you would tear open the heavens and come down…!” because there’s trouble here, Lord – can’t you see it? 

“O that you would tear open the heavens and come down…!” because there’s trouble here, Lord – have you failed to notice?  Is this part of your plan?  How long is this kind of stuff going to go on?  How are we supposed to live like this? 

“O that you would tear open the heavens and come down…!”  This is a wholly different kind of communication with God.  This is for people who are in pain.  This is for people whose world is falling apart.  This is for people who’ve had their butts kicked by life and need to talk about it; they need to complain about it; they need to weep about it; they need to LAMENT.  This is the prayer of people who long for God, but who cannot see or hear God.  This is the prayer of people for whom God is absent.[1] 

“O that you would tear open the heavens and come down…!”

Sometimes it can surprise us to learn that people in the Bible ever prayed this kind of prayer.  Sometimes we think that people in the Bible did not doubt the presence of God the way we do -- when we look at the world and its present condition.  When we see all the heartache and loss everywhere, and we wonder – “Where are you God?  Are you asleep at the switch?!”

“Sometimes [we] get the impression that people in the Bible always have God beside them, anytime they snap their fingers and call for God”[2] God is right there to meet them:  Paul met the Risen Christ in a blinding flash on the Road to Damascus.  Moses met God in a burning bush on Mount Sinai.  Isaiah himself saw the hem of God’s majestic robe fill the Temple during worship.  But what about our encounter on the Road?  What about our burning bush?  What about our revelation in the midst of worship?

“O that you would tear open the heavens and come down…!” because we are trying to figure out how to live down here, Lord and it’s hard.  We are trying to figure out how to be your people down here, Lord.  We are trying to live in hope and faith, with integrity and justice.  We are trying to stay faithful to our families and compassionate with our neighbors.  We are trying to keep putting our trust in you and not let the fear-mongers of our time tempt us into believing that trusting in you is worthless.

“O that you would tear open the heavens and come down…!” because we need you here Lord, and quickly!  The nations rage and boil like water in a pot.  World economies swoop and dive, leaving us breathless and uncertain.  Those we love suffer and we can only watch and pray…

“O that you would tear open the heavens and come down…!”
because we need you here Lord, and quickly!

“The word Advent means arrival: the arrival of a helper, a comforter, a saviour [sic], a king and a kingdom.”[3]  The Scriptures show us that the season of Advent begins amidst turbulent hopes and disappointments in our world and in our hearts.  And there’s a reason for that.  Because, who needs a savior when we’re on top of the world?  Who needs to lean upon God when we’re so busy holding everybody else up?  Advent is a season for proving that God can hold us up.

The God who tears open the heavens in order to come down and be with His people is getting ready to be born into our hearts this Advent season.  And you can miss it if you want: by being too busy to notice; by refusing to watch and wait; by cynically believing there is nothing worth waiting for.  You can miss it if you want – and then Christmas will be all about Santa Claus and that new sweater under the tree and supporting the economy – which, God knows, we need to do.

But what Advent is really about is waiting; waiting for the arrival of the One who comes to tear open the heavens and join us in all of our holiness and mess.

“O that you would tear open the heavens and come down…!” because we need you here Lord, and quickly!  We need you to break into our world with power and with hope.  We need you to redeem all that is sorrowful and broken in our worlds.  We need you to restore all that is broken in our lives. 

O that you would tear open the heavens and come down.  Now, right now, again and again.  Amen.