I thought it might be appropriate to look a little more closely at the Isaiah text that is quoted about John the Baptist this week. The sermon this week is on John, and his role in the advent story (including the song of Zechariah which we’ll look at tomorrow). I encourage everyone to look at the whole context of this quote, from Isaiah 39-40. It is a fascinating read, because of where Isaiah wanders. In chapter 39, there is a little historical narrative: King Hezekiah is visited by emissaries of the King of Babylon, and he shows these emissaries all of the treasures of Jerusalem. Isaiah thinks this is a tremendously bad idea. We’re left with the impression that Hezekiah’s bragging has brought the potential jealousy of Babylon into play, and Isaiah gives a prophecy of doom for Jerusalem.
Then, immediately afterwards this promise of exile, Isaiah goes into the famous “Comfort, Comfort Oh My People” which is the prelude to the text a highway in the wilderness. It is this context that convinces many that the highway for the Lord is not just a way for God to get from point A to point B, but a road of deliverance-it is the promise that while there will be pain from Babylon, God will create a highway to bring people back to the land, to Israel.
From this point, Isaiah moves on to a claim about God’s sovereignty and creative power, reminding all his readers that God is capable of doing great things for those who are faithful.
So we’ve got something of a three-fold movement: Hezekiah is reprimanded with a prophecy of woe, followed by the promise that things will get better eventually, followed by the evidence that God is able to make this restoration happen. It’s a cozy little argument, and it is useful to consider how this all plays together when we hear ‘comfort comfort’ or ‘A voice cries out, in the wilderness, prepare the way of the Lord’ (or, just as accurately, “A voice cries out in the wilderness, prepare the way of the Lord”-Hebrew is notoriously lacking in punctuation).
This specific text that is applied to John the Baptist by Luke, Mark, and Matthew is interesting for a couple of reasons. In a non-advent related direction, the whole image of leveling I think is a fascinating one. Leveling is something of a mixed image. I would not want every valley lifted up or every mountain and hill made low-topography is spiritual to me. I was born and raised in Kansas, and I love it, but it is important to me to be able to go to the mountains, and feel the awesome power of the earth in that space. Also, it is easy enough to use this text (particularly considering John’s emphasis on poverty and condemnation of those in power) as a justification for social leveling-the mountains of wealth and the valleys of extreme poverty made level, so that every heart might be better prepared for God’s entry. I’m not particularly comfortable with this reading either-a little social leveling is something I’m in favor of (if anyone wants to unpack that, they’ll have to ask) but even in our world, differences have some function. Equally, thinking about the human vision of taming the wild, I hesitate to see God’s blessings on the creation of massive highways in the desert. Obviously, this is hyperbole-you don’t need to every rough place plain for one highway. Its better to read this, “the highway will be perfect-every valley filled in, every mountain cut down, completely smooth for its whole duration.”
And this is a powerful image of God 1) being present outside of the civilized forces of humanity-to build a highway in the desert is to move outside the normal paths of existence. 2) Breaking down the barriers between the people and their needs-bringing people home from exile, through the wilderness. The primary story that pretty much all Old Testament texts have to be read in light of is that of Exodus, particularly when the image of wilderness is brought up. The last time the people of Israel were in the wilderness, it took them 40 years in the desert to make their way to a new home. A highway for God in the wild is something of a comment about the wild goose chase that is the books of Exodus and Numbers.
Finally, to put this back in the context of Advent, two things. 1) Holiday seasons are often times with families, or friends, times of high emotions, both joyful and sad, and they are times that highlight how convoluted our paths to one another sometimes get. Innuendo overlays old battles, and differences of opinion on politics, religion, careers, parenting, and the like are papered over with civility that sometimes breaks out in highly stylized argument. Not that making things straight is necessarily a good use of time over the holidays-you have to be ready to handle any landmines you discover-but part of communion with one another is being able to see the glory of God in one another, and recognize the bonds of love that tie us together, to discover the highways of God in places that once appeared barren.
2) John the Baptist was considered the fulfillment of this prophecy in Isaiah by Luke. These are the words the gospel writers put on John. Think about this straight path: a man goes in the desert, dressed in camel hair and eating locusts. He insults everyone who comes near, telling them they are sinners who need to turn around and return to God. A poor unmarried couple discover they are married, and give birth away from home in a stable. This noticeably unimportant and unremembered family (by any secular sources) turns out to have a son who meets up with the angry man, gets baptized, and becomes a remarkable teacher, who gathers a few followers, but who says enough incendiary things to get himself in trouble with the state, and executed for insurrection. However, rather than this being the end of it, his followers claim he has risen from the dead, and spread the word that he continues to have the power to transform lives if people accept his spirit into their hearts. Now personally, that road seems just as winding as the path offered up through the Desert that Moses had to follow. Does God really want straight roads in the desert? Do we? Living in a society that seems often to be satisfied with one sentence political arguments (health care is good vs. government is bad, global warming is bad vs business needs to be able to grow, etc.) and that uses a massive military as the one stop shop for fixing the world around us, maybe it is worth remembering what God’s straight path looks like, and consider following some more winding roads in our own lives and relationships.
What do you think? Are there any winding roads in your life that you have discovered are actually straight? Where might you do some leveling, and where would you be uncomfortable blurring the diversity?
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