Ketchikan Presbyterian Church in Southeast Alaska!
Sharing God's love with every race and culture

COMFORT? COMFORT!

A sermon by George Pasley

Isaiah 40:1-11; Mark 1:1-8

Comfort.

Type it into your Google toolbar, and see what you get-

Comfort inn, Comfort suites.

Comfort food, Comforter.

Comfortable, Comfortably numb,

And even comfortably numb lyrics!

Comfort.

It’s what we want on a typical November or December day in Ketchikan.

Comfort.

It’s what I feel when my aerobics class is doing cool-down stretches after 50 minutes of body-pounding, heart-racing exercise.

But the truth is we know comfort is more than that because we read the news, and we know who suffers.

We know comfort is more than that because we read our prayer list every week, and we send out prayer requests, every day.

The way we use the word comfort most often seems pale when compared to the hard-time that billions of people around the world are serving in the thing we call “life.”

A genocide in Sudan

A war in Iraq

A resurgence of war in Afghanistan

Rumors of war in Pakistan

Terrorism in India

Piracy in Somalia

533,000 lost jobs in November

Three major automobile manufacturers tottering on bankruptcy

A family who watched their baby boy suffer immensely for several years

A young man dropped out of school

A smart, hard-working middle aged man looking for work

A lonely woman with an incurable disease

Comfort.

We know who needs it all too well, and yet even the simplest solutions for the easiest problems to fix, seem far beyond our reach. 

So we must wonder, is there any comfort, and if so, what in the world is it?

The word that came from God to the prophet is a resounding YES!

I remember the first time I traveled a far distance, all the way to Ohio, to attend a sheep auction. It was a production sale, a select offering of young stock put up for sale by one of the nation’s elite breeders. I knew almost everybody involved by reputation, but it was my first time to meet any of them.

One of them was the auctioneer, Russ. He was affine and enthusiastic auctioneer. But even more memorable to me was one of his ring men, Dick.

The job of the ring men was to scan the crowd, looking and watching for bids. The moment they saw a bid, they were to let the auctioneer know, so he could raise his chant a few more dollars.

Well, whenever Dick saw a bid he let the whole world know- YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

These three words that begin Isaiah 40 are like that shout from the ring man- COMFORT, O COMFORT!

In fact, that word, repeated, is incredibly remarkable because very few times in the bible does a prophet get assigned the task of announcing or proclaiming comfort. Instead, their job is almost always to pronounce judgment in the form of gloom and doom.

But here it is, comfort, twice, in verse one, and then in verse nine something equally noticeable, “good tidings”, twice.

There is comfort, oh yes there is, in no uncertain terms and it is our task to remember it and insist on it and proclaim it and repeat as often as necessary.

But we need to repeat our second question (What is it?) and we need to ask a third: who is it for?

The instructions to the prophet make clear that comfort is being extended to the nation of Judah, which has been held captive, in exile, for a lifetime.

The instructions also make clear that this comfort is a reversal of punishment, and the punishment was for sins.

But let us notice: the punishment inflicted in this particular case was for their sins as a people, as a community, as a nation. They were corporate sins, sins they committed together, sins that were systemic to their culture, and they included, but were not limited to, idolatry, acts of greed, injustice, and neglect of the poor.

That alone makes me fear for our own culture. But let me point something out: sin has a ripple effect, and systemic cultural sins have huge ripples, and when those waves move, people suffer.

So more than the sinner suffered from the sin; the victims were multiple and when Judah was punished the less-guilty suffered just as much as the more-guilty among them. No one got off scot-free.

So I know that there must be ripple effects to comfort as well.

By faith I believe that comfort is given to those who suffer from someone else’s sin, and perhaps it is offered first.

By faith I know that comfort is offered to those who suffer from illness.

By faith I know that comfort is offered to persons suffering from natural disasters.

By faith I know that comfort is offered to persons suffering from economic downturns, or from poor management on someone else’s part, or from changes in any of the natural, political, or social systems that we  adapt our life to as we try to make a living.

I know, because a) we are taught that all suffering and death entered the world as penalty for sin, and b) because God’s grace covers a multitude of sins- in fact, it covers every sin.

But what is comfort, and how does it work?

The prophet tells us that comfort arrives with the arrival of God.

So, comfort comes from God and it has something to do with a presence that is close and physical.

Then the prophet tells us that God, when present, will feed us, and gather us up, and hold us close.

In fact, the English word that we use, comfort, has its roots in such imagery- the prefix, co, means a close presence, as in COmforter, or as in COmpany.

So it is the presence of God with us that is comfort.

When my mother died it was a great comfort to my sisters and I for our father to be with us at the funeral. It was a comfort to have her brothers there, and her cousins, and her many friends, and even a great many of our own friends.

It was a comfort to me to receive card after card from my friends across the country, and to receive emails from even more. In fact, I save most of those emails long past the time I kept the cards, and I can almost remember some of them word-for-word.

But the particular comfort that comes to us from God is more than that, much more.

It is real, you can be certain. In fact, we celebrate that real presence at this communion table.

But what we celebrate at this table is GOD with us, and not just that, but GOD AS ONE OF US, in every way.

Jesus, who experienced our life in every way-

Our anxieties

Our sufferings

Our depressions

Our struggles

Our hungers

Our cravings

Our temptations

Even our bruises and calluses and warts.

Everything that is, except for our sin.

But oh my goodness, Jesus shared with us the penalty for sin- in fact, he took it from us, and suffered it for us. So even death, he shares with us.

To be sure, we want more.

We want an end to the genocide in Sudan, and a return of millions to their homes, all around the world.

We want a good job for Terry Ceplecci, and every other person looking for work.

We want not to get sick and die.

We want not to watch our children, or anybody’s children, die.

We want not to make bad decisions.

We want the rough places in life made smooth, just the way Paul was making the floor smooth downstairs yesterday afternoon.

We want the injustices and iniquities and indignities and inequities of life removed, and shredded, and composted, and buried. Forever.

But we have a promise, and the promise is this: God working on it as we speak. The valleys are being lifted up. The mountains are being brought low. The rough places are being made smooth.

God is working on it wherever we who are baptized with fire stand with those who suffer.

God is working on it wherever we practice a justice way of life.

God is working on it whenever we share the good that we have with those who have less.

God is working on it whenever and wherever we demand an end to greed, to abuse, to discrimination, and to the victimization of the weak and vulnerable of the earth.

God is working on it wherever we go, and God is working on it whenever we remember and repeat the promise of comfort.

So prepare the way, make a straight path, and repeat the words: Comfort, Oh Comfort.

Comfort, Oh Comfort.

In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost. Amen.

 




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