A Journey of Joy

Introduction

At some point my son got too big, so we stopped doing the yearly trek to Florida, the 20-hour drive each way. But for many years, it was a family highlight!

Having lived in Florida for a decade, and having moved to Michigan (not because we were dying to come to Michigan—no offense Michiganders, nobody is dying to move to this state—but because of the same forces of nature, market, and history that land people in this happy but cold place), my family was happy to make the yearly trek to Florida.

We have family in Florida. We have a friend with a sweet condo in Naples he let us use many years (he has since sold the condo, which greatly benefited his pocket but impoverished our family). So when it looked like the Lord gave us a semi-permanent assignment in Michigan (we don’t have any other plans, but nothing in life is permanent), my wife made me promise her that I’d take her to Florida every year. I’ve not been able to keep that promise, by the way. (God’s the only one who keeps all his promises. The rest of us have good intentions.)

But since we left Florida in 2013, we’ve been back a lot, and making the trek was a blast. We remember it most fondly. 

It would take us two days to get down there. We’d stop about midway at my mother-in-law’s place in Tennessee. She was always a little salty because we’d use her place as a hotel and keep going. 

On the way, we’d always stop at Chic-fil-a and Chipotle, one was lunch, the other was dinner. There were long stretches when nobody was allowed to drink much of anything so they could hold it for a few hours. (Parents, you know exactly what I’m talking about.) We’d give them NyQuil so everybody would sleep and be quiet. (We didn’t do that.)

The kids would watch movies, listen to music, tell stories, and of course fight. It was family at its best. 

And then, eventually – when it had been so long we’d all forgotten why we were crammed in this van for so many hours – the sun, the breeze, the palm trees would welcome us and make it all worth it. 

We will never forget our trips to Florida.

I’m sure you have your own version of what I just described. What’s that well-etched in your mind and stored in your heart memory that filled you with joy and gladness, thanksgiving and singing?

For God’s people, Israel, it was the yearly pilgrimages to Jerusalem. Three times a year they would go, the whole family when it was possible, to celebrate Passover, Weeks, and Tabernacles. There could be nothing more important than God’s people converging in God’s place to celebrate God’s goodness. Singing, dancing, eating, drinking. This was shalom at its finest. 

So imagine the heartbreak when the people were taken as exiles to Babylon, seventy years, and the pilgrimages were over. The city left desolate. The roads to Zion mourn, for no one comes to her appointed festivals (Lam 1:4).

This whole section of Isaiah is about God saying to his grieving, groaning, anguished people, Awake! Arise! You’re going back to Zion!

It’s like when Rafiki finds Simba (in the Lion King) after he’s been in exile from the pride and tells him, It is time!

A common metaphor we use for life is journey. Where are you on your journey? Your journey of life, your journey of faith?

We have regret from past stops along the journey.

We have wounds from the journey and doubts and fears along the journey. 

Journeys have destinations, and according to the Bible, that destination for people of faith is the new world. 

Our text for today is full of promise. It is a sweet word to those who take God seriously along the journey to God’s kingdom.

We’re going to look at salvation, strength, and security.

Salvation at last.

Isaiah 51:1–3
“Listen to me, you who pursue righteousness 
and who seek the Lord: 
Look to the rock from which you were cut 
and to the quarry from which you were hewn; 
look to Abraham, your father, 
and to Sarah, who gave you birth. 
When I called him he was only one man, 
and I blessed him and made him many. 
The Lord will surely comfort Zion 
and will look with compassion on all her ruins; 
he will make her deserts like Eden, 
her wastelands like the garden of the Lord. 
Joy and gladness will be found in her, 
thanksgiving and the sound of singing. 

Throughout these chapters God has often address his deaf, blind, stubborn, rebellious people. But now he’s speaking to those of true faith.

He’s speaking to those who pursue righteousness and seek the LORD (1), who know what is right . . . who have taken [his] instruction to heart (7).

And it should not be lost on us that it is possible to please the Lord. This church is full of people who trust in the Lord. Even back then, before the coming of Jesus, there were always people like Joshua and Caleb among a faithless generation, people like Ruth during the period of the Judges. It’s not impossible to love the Lord.

Sometimes it can feel like God is impossible to please. I know I can do this to you as your pastor. That’s not my intention. My intention is to let each text have its day in the sun. If the text speaks gloom, it’s going to be a gloomy sermon. If the text speaks joy, it’s going to be a joyful sermon. Of course, every sermon is a gospel/good news sermon, which means also every sermon must address sin. Otherwise, it’s going to be difficult to understand why we need Jesus.

And I know that’s who so many of you are. There’s nothing closer to your heart. Nothing makes you happier. Nothing’s more important to you. It grieves your heart that so many don’t seek after God. It grieves your heart when you don’t seek after God.

So you’re whom he’s addressing with these verses.

And what he says to us as he said to the exiles who still trusted him was, Look to the rock from which you were cut . . . look to Abraham, your father, and to Sarah, who gave you birth.

Specifically, he wants them to remember that Abraham was old and Sarah was barren. They had no heirs. God wanted it that way, so that he could display his power.

He says, When I called him he was only one man, and I blessed him and made him many. 

Why is that relevant now? God is going to do something like that again. He’s going to take Zion, which has been desolate and in ruins, and turn it into Eden, the garden of the Lord. Joy and gladness will be found in her, thanksgiving and the sound of singing.

When you’ve been where Israel has been to hear that joy, gladness, thanksgiving and singing are going to populate Zion once again is wonderful news.

Isaiah 51:4–6
“Listen to me, my people; 
hear me, my nation: 
Instruction will go out from me; 
my justice will become a light to the nations. 
My righteousness draws near speedily, 
my salvation is on the way, 
and my arm will bring justice to the nations. 
The islands will look to me 
and wait in hope for my arm. 
Lift up your eyes to the heavens, 
look at the earth beneath; 
the heavens will vanish like smoke, 
the earth will wear out like a garment 
and its inhabitants die like flies. 
But my salvation will last forever, 
my righteousness will never fail. 

God’s instruction, justice, righteousness, salvation, and arm are on the move doing something big, bigger than Israel.

God’s instruction is his torah. His word by which people know who he is and what is right.

God’s justice is his rule. His rule is the opposite of oppression. His rule brings shalom to all who seek him.

God’s righteousness is his moral quality. It’s why life is better than death and love better than hatred. It’s why generosity surpasses greed and honesty lying.

God’s salvation is his deliverance. It’s his redemptive nature to mend what’s broken, rescue captives, lift up the poor, show grace to ingrates.

God’s arm is his power flexing to bring to pass all the above. Without his arm flexing, his instruction, justice, righteousness, and salvation are just good wishes.

Here’s the word Isaiah is bringing about these things. They’re going out to the nations. To the nations. It’s hard for us to hear the shock and size of these words because the Christian mission has always been to the nations. But not so for Israel. Israel at this point was just a few exiles oppressed by the mightiest nation, an empire. But God is moving in big ways toward the nations.

He said it before in 49:6, It is too small a thing for you to be my servant to restore the tribes of Jacob and bring back those of Israel I have kept. I will also make you a light to the Gentiles/nations, that my salvation may reach to the ends of the earth. 

And now he says, My justice will become a light to the nations . . . my arm will bring justice to the nations. 

What God is bringing to pass is so big that the heavens are like smoke, the earth like a worn-out garment, and even people die like flies. What’s he saying? He’s comparing the durability and inevitability of his salvation.

Do you think the faithful exiles needed this word? Of course, they did! Languishing under Babylon, these prophecies seemed ridiculous. So God has more.

Isaiah 51:7–8
“Hear me, you who know what is right, 
you people who have taken my instruction to heart: 
Do not fear the reproach of mere mortals 
or be terrified by their insults. 
For the moth will eat them up like a garment; 
the worm will devour them like wool. 
But my righteousness will last forever, 
my salvation through all generations.” 

This word is essentially the same from verse 6, except that it identifies specifically the fear and terror that God’s people feel and what it is that terrifies them. People. Mere mortals.

He says, Do not fear the reproach of mere mortals . . . For the moth will eat them up like a garment.

Moths eating through stuff is so annoying. Back in November of 2021, I had been through a long interview process with Oak Pointe, and it was time to come and preach to you. So Anna bought me a gray turtleneck for the occasion. And I liked it. I felt like that first day went well with you, so I had a fond attachment to that turtleneck. I remember thinking, That’s going to be my go-to for Sunday mornings! 

But the next time I went to wear it, probably January or February, I took it out, and it had a big hole from a moth. I wore it once. I loved it. It had been in the closet for less than two months, and it was ruined.

God says to his people, All those people you fear are like a garment eaten through by a month. But my righteousness will last forever, my salvation through all generations. Salvation at last. And now, strength for the way.

Strength for the way.

Isaiah 51:9–11
Awake, awake, arm of the Lord, 
clothe yourself with strength! 
Awake, as in days gone by, 
as in generations of old. 
Was it not you who cut Rahab to pieces, 
who pierced that monster through? 
Was it not you who dried up the sea, 
the waters of the great deep, 
who made a road in the depths of the sea 
so that the redeemed might cross over? 
Those the Lord has rescued will return. 
They will enter Zion with singing; 
everlasting joy will crown their heads. 
Gladness and joy will overtake them, 
and sorrow and sighing will flee away. 

In light of God’s great promises in the previous verses, the prophet now, speaking on behalf of the people, calls on God to wake up.

He says, Awake, awake, arm of the LORD, clothe yourself with strength! Wake up, O God, and do what you did in the past.

And he brings up Rahab and the monster. What are these? In the Ancient Near East, which is where Israel lived, there were myths of the gods Baal and Marduk having victory over sea monsters in the creation of the world. Isaiah is saying, Any victory over chaotic monsters did not come from Baal or Marduk but from the Lord. 

But Rahab had also become a name for Egypt. In Isaiah 30:7 we read, to Egypt, whose help is utterly useless. Therefore I call her Rahab the Do-Nothing. This is when Israel was being threatened by Assyria and looking for help from Egypt. The prophet says, Egypt, Rahab, is useless.

Then he says, Was it not you who dried up the sea, the waters of the great deep, who made a road in the depth of the sea so that the redeemed might cross over?

The prophet is calling to mind the biggest acts of the arm of the Lord flexing – his creative power to bring the cosmos from chaos and his redemptive power to split the sea open so that Israel could walk free from Egyptian oppression – and saying, Wake up, Lord, and do it again! 

He’s been building their confidence in his ability and desire to make a way. I’ll read you the verses.

Isaiah 40:3, A voice of one calling: In the wilderness prepare the way for the LORD. 

42:16, I will lead the blind by ways they have not known, along unfamiliar paths I will guide them.

43:19, See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.

49:11, I will turn all my mountains into roads, and my highways will be raised up.

God pierces the monsters, splits the waters, makes the way. That’s the arm of the Lord flexing to bring about his salvation to the ends of the earth.

But it starts with the exiles returning to Zion because Zion is where God dwells. And so we read that glorious verse 11:

Those the LORD has rescued will return. They will enter Zion with singing; everlasting joy will crown their heads. Gladness and joy will overtake them, and sorrow and sighing will flee away. 

This is the reversal of Lamentations, the devastation to their national and spiritual identity when they were taken away because of their sin. Then, sorrow and sighing had overtaken them. Now, gladness and joy engulf them. 

They will enter Zion with singing! It’s a journey of joy.

Let’s finish by looking at the security of the covenant.

Security in covenant.

Isaiah 51:12–16
“I, even I, am he who comforts you. 
Who are you that you fear mere mortals, 
human beings who are but grass, 
that you forget the Lord your Maker, 
who stretches out the heavens 
and who lays the foundations of the earth, 
that you live in constant terror every day 
because of the wrath of the oppressor, 
who is bent on destruction? 
For where is the wrath of the oppressor? 
The cowering prisoners will soon be set free; 
they will not die in their dungeon, 
nor will they lack bread. 
For I am the Lord your God, 
who stirs up the sea so that its waves roar— 
the Lord Almighty is his name. 
I have put my words in your mouth 
and covered you with the shadow of my hand— 
I who set the heavens in place, 
who laid the foundations of the earth, 
and who say to Zion, ‘You are my people.’ ”

The Lord turns the tables here.

In the previous verses, the prophet, speaking for the people, asked God a few questions, Was it not you who cut Rahab to pieces . . . was it not you who dried up the sea? The purpose of those questions was to rouse the Lord to ACT NOW as he had before. They were, in effect, who-are-you questions.

So now the Lord asks them his own who-are-you questions. Who are you that you fear mere mortals . . . that you forget the LORD your Maker . . . that you live in constant terror every day?

What he’s saying is, If you really believe that I dried up the sea in days gone by, then you can’t live in fear and forget me. As with Egypt, so with Babylon. I took you out of that monster, I’ll take you out of this one. Remember me and you wake up!

He says, I, even I, am he who comforts you . . . The cowering prisoners will soon be set free . . . I have put my words in your mouth and covered you with the shadow of my hand – I who set the heavens in place, who laid the foundations of the earth, and who say to Zion, ‘You are my people.’

That last statement is mind-blowing.

Remember how chapter 50 opens.

This is what the LORD says: “Where is your mother’s certificate of divorce with which I sent her away?”

God’s point is that he did not divorce his people. He sent them away into exile because of their sins. His judgment came on them, and it was devastating. But he did not divorce them. 

Of course, to them, it felt like he did, they feel more abandoned than guilty (which is one of the problems). So in this whole section of Isaiah, God is going to great lengths to convince them of his faithfulness, comfort, and deliverance. And to that point, we cannot miss the three things he puts together in verse 16: I set the heavens in place. I laid the foundations of the earth. I say to Zion, “You are my people.” Israel belongs to God like the heavens and the earth belong to God. If any of those things is not true, none is true. God is saying, Do you see the heavens? Do you see the earth? Then, do not doubt my commitment to you, Israel.

They are secure because God made a covenant with them. They will return because God made a covenant with them. They will enter Zion – again – with singing because God made a covenant with them.

So let me leave you with this.

The passage today is a sweet word of comfort and strength for those who take God seriously. Those who are on their journey to God’s new world.

The exile Isaiah addresses is the historical situation for Israel in the 6^th century BC when Babylon destroyed their city and temple and took them captive. But exile is bigger than that. Exile for the human race began when Adam and Eve were kicked out of Eden because of sin. It’s the same reason Israel went into exile – sin. And it’s the same reason you and I live in exile.

What do you mean we live in exile? You ask. You know this to be true. We long for safety, abundance, and belonging, but we can’t help but feel afraid that our lives are at risk, that we won’t have what we need, and that we won’t be loved or not loved for long or not loved once people really know us. The exiles constantly lament, I have been forgotten. This is the nightmare that even pop stars anxiously work to avoid, I have been forgotten. That’s exile. And everyone feels it.

Now Israel came back from physical exile through the decree of King Cyrus.

But for the return from spiritual exile that started with Adam and Eve, they needed a different king. They needed the work of the servant of the Lord that we’ve been reading about in Isaiah.

John in his Gospel tells us that Isaiah saw Jesus’ glory and spoke about him (John 12:41). Isaiah knew that the blind and rebellious servant, Israel, needed the work of the servant who was neither blind nor rebellious. That faithful servant would bring to pass God’s instruction, justice, righteousness, and salvation. He would bring God’s shalom to the whole world by the arm of the Lord.

But the way that the arm of the Lord would flex to begin the return from spiritual exile for the human race was not through exaltation but humiliation. We’re inching toward Isaiah 53 and many of you are familiar with this chapter. The faithful servant of the Lord would himself suffer exile for the transgressions of God’s people.

This is the work Jesus came to do. The righteous suffered for the unrighteous to bring us to God.

The work of Jesus is the arm of the Lord clothed with the strength to give his life away for our sake, for our life. 

Jesus was forgotten and forsaken on the cross. He was literally taken outside the Holy City, exiled as a criminal, and killed, so that we could be brought into God’s family and never forgotten.

Do you trust him? Do you believe that he’s the end of exile for you. Because if you do, then you’re on a journey to Zion.

You’re on a pilgrimage to God’s city, to God’s new world – that’s your destination. And along that journey, because we’re not all the way home yet, yes there will be pain, wounds, scars, but there should also be the sound of joy and gladness, thanksgiving and singing – like my family on its way to Florida, or whatever the memory is for you that is well-etched in your mind and heart that spells bliss.

Nostalgia overplays sorrow. Jesus puts us on a pilgrimage of joy. He opened the way with his body.

So, enter into Monday with joy and gladness, thanksgiving and singing. No Monday blues for you. No I’ve got a case of the Mondays for you. Back to the grind. Living for the weekend.

Trusting in Jesus is the end of exile. 

Every day we’re on our way to God’s new world, and it’s a journey of joy. Every day we help each other, as brothers and sisters, remember that we’re on a pilgrimage of joy and gladness, thanksgiving and the sound of singing.

Yes, sorrow will be mingled all the way through, but it’s a journey of joy. The servant of the Lord, Jesus Christ, put an end to our exile.