Jim Wallis, the founder and editor of Sojourners, a Christian magazine focused on justice issues, tells the story of a Christmas season years ago when he was volunteering in a homeless shelter housed in a church basement. The basement was decorated for the season and among the decorations were large festive banners that said things like: “Good News! Christ is Born!” and “Glory to God in the Highest!”
As the guests were waiting in line, one of them, a man who spent every day out on the streets living in the dreadful reality of homelessness and crushing poverty, surveyed the bright, joyous banners. Finding them incongruous with his own dark, depressing existence, he asked loudly, “What’s the good news anyway?” Because no one knew quite what to say to such a question from such a man, there was a long, heavy silence.
But then someone farther back in the line, another homeless man, spoke up: “The good news is that it doesn’t have to be like this.”
In this morning’s Gospel Reading , Jesus speaks of the realities of the world: wars and insurrections, famine, disease, natural disasters, the collapse of institutions, persecution and oppression. He’s describing the future his disciples will face, perhaps even the end of the age, but it sounds eerily similar to our present—and I suspect this was as true for the first readers of Luke and for readers in every age since, as it is for us today: Jesus’ ancient words always have a contemporary ring. And so, one may well ask, “Where’s the good news in that?”
The people to whom the prophet Isaiah spoke surely were in need of good news: their world too mirrored the dire circumstances and events Jesus would speak of almost six centuries later. Having returned to Judah from the Exile in Babylon, they found that their cities were overrun by wilderness, Jerusalem was a desolation and the Temple and all the great and beautiful buildings were in ruins. They were faced with the essential but incredibly daunting, difficult task of rebuilding their political structures, their society and their community of faith.
To such people afflicted by turmoil and anxiety, Isaiah declares Good News: It doesn’t have to be like this. As the late biblical scholar Walter Brueggemann observed, “There is a steady push toward newness in the Isaiah tradition that intends to override the despair of Israel, especially the despair of exile.” “The creator God is to work a newness beyond all that is old, former, previous, failed.” Thus, the prophet confidently delivers a Divine word of promise: God is preparing to do a new thing, to create a new heaven and a new earth and a new Jerusalem in the midst of it all. What follows is a moving picture of a land and a people restored. God’s will is for human flourishing: for justice, peace and prosperity. It is a vision of hope, the promise of a better future. As such, it is a source of courage and a foundation for faith—both for the prophets troubled community and for us in our troubled time. We too, in the midst of difficulty, suffering and uncertainty, can put our trust in God and believe that God will keep God’s promises and make all things new.
But this passage is also an invitation. If this is what God’s dream for the world looks like, then we, the people of God, ought to be working for such a world. If God cares about such matters, so should we. We are invited, nay, called to join in God’s work. Martin Thielen sketches the ramifications of this divine vision:
Isaiah says, “Never again will there be in it an infant who lives but a few days.” (v. 20 NIV). In God’s kingdom, infant mortality does not exist. Therefore, issues like health insurance and prenatal care are kingdom issues. Isaiah then says, “Never again will there be…an old man who does not live out his years (v. 20 NIV).” In God’s kingdom, senior adults live long, productive, and healthy lives. Therefore, issues like Medicare and Social Security are kingdom issues. Isaiah adds, “They will build houses and dwell in them (v.21).” In God’s kingdom, every person lives in a decent house. Therefore, issues like fair mortgage rates and affordable housing are kingdom issues. Isaiah continues, “They will plant vineyards and eat their fruit” (v. 21). In God’s kingdom, food is plentiful. Therefore, healthy, accessible and affordable food is a kingdom issue. Isaiah goes on to say, “[They] will long enjoy the works of their hands. They will not toil in vain” (v. 22-23). In God’s kingdom, people are fairly compensated for their work. Therefore, issues like minimum wage and employee benefits are kingdom issues. Then Isaiah says, “They will not… bear children doomed to misfortune” (v. 23). In God’s kingdom, children thrive. Therefore, issues like child nutrition and early education are kingdom issues. Finally, Isaiah dreams of the day when “the wolf and the lamb will feed together, and the lion will eat straw like the ox…They will neither harm nor destroy on my holy mountain” (v. 25). In God’s kingdom, violence and warfare are contraband. Therefore, peacemaking between people and nations is a major kingdom issue.
Now, it goes without saying that Isaiah addresses a different society than our modern, urban, technological society. Additionally, there are no specific policy solutions advocated by scripture. Neither Medicare nor Social Security nor any other policy or program should be as direct expressions of God’s will. Rather, they are human means to address issues to which God repeatedly calls us through the scriptures to respond with love, justice and compassion. Finally, as Jim Wallis has declared, God’s not a Republican or a Democrat. God transcends and judges every party, ideology and kingdom. Thus, it’s a serious and dangerous mistake to claim either political party’s agenda as a direct expression of God’s will or to believe a particular politician is specifically and specially chosen agent of God. There’s more than one way to establish justice and build a better society. So, we must learn to listen to each other and work together if we are to make headway on any of our society’s problems.
Nonetheless, despite these caveats, God’s vision of a future in which humanity is at peace and flourishing ought to inform all our thinking and working: if this is what God intends, how can we be satisfied with less? We cannot achieve this on our own; it is, after all, God’s future. But surely, in the interim, while we wait for God to make all things new, we can be active in our care for the very young and the very old, we can comfort the sick and work for the homeless and poor. Surely, we can seek ways to lessen poverty and suffering and promote human rights in our nation and world. Surely, we can stand with the outcast, welcome the stranger, and do all we can to live in peace with everyone around us.
All of this may seem to us a daunting, overwhelming task; but it has always seemed so. Long ago, the Jewish rabbis recognized how imposing and impossible the tasks to which God calls us sometimes appear. But they advised that we shouldn’t give up, saying, “Do not be daunted by the enormity of the world’s grief. Do justly now. Love mercy now. Walk humbly now. You are not obligated to complete the work , but neither are you free to abandon it,”
What we are called to do is to be faithful in the small things and to always do them with great love. For when the Kingdom of God comes at last—and it will come, by the grace of God—then all the faithful labor of God’s people, those deeds done out of love of God and neighbor, those humble efforts to do justice and embody mercy, will be made into something far more, something unimaginably greater than the sum of their parts. We will find that God has taken our feeble efforts and transformed them into the building blocks of God’s new heaven and earth.
William Willimon tells of two older women he once met. They had started a ministry in a local jail that housed youthful offenders. Twice a week they visited with the incarcerated youth, teaching literacy classes. And for each young man’s birthday, they worked with local churches to organize a small celebration complete with a cake and presents. Their efforts were changing lives, leading to new directions for the young men they worked with, much to the wonder of those two women.
“I have really surprised myself,” one of the women told him. “I’ve always been a rather shy person, not the type to venture out and attempt new things. Can you believe what God has done for these young men through someone like me?”
Sometimes, God’s new heaven and new earth begin with a new Helen and a new Eartha and through them God brings about a new Henry and a new Enrique. God makes us new, a little at a time, and uses us to make the world—and the people we share it with—new a little at a time. All the while, God works by the wonders of God’s grace and power to make our feeble efforts and our small works of love, our humble deeds of compassion, and our seemingly inconsequential acts of justice and words of grace, into something new, something greater than we could have imagined: a new creation, the very Kingdom of God.
All this God accomplishes by turning our hearts and minds to the promise of God’s future. Back in seminary, I read an excellent book by the historian and theologian Justo González. It is entitled Mañana: Christian Theology from a Hispanic Perspective. In it, González notes how the concept of mañana—tomorrow—has been used by the dominant culture as a slur to portray Hispanics as lazy folk who never finish or accomplish anything. But, he says, there is far more to the word:
“Mañana is much more than “tomorrow.” It is the radical questioning of today [….For impoverished Hispanics and others, the real mañana is a time unlike today. It is a time of a new reality, not the outcome of today’s disorderly order but the outcome of other factors that bring about a breach with an unbearable today….There are those who capture the mañana vision of Scripture. The world will not always be as it is. It will not even be an outgrowth of what is. God who created the world in the first place is about to do a new thing—a thing as great and as surprising as that first act of creation. God is already doing this new thing, and we can join it by the power of the Spirit! Mañana is here! True, mañana is not yet today, but today can be lived out of the glory and the promise of mañana, thanks to the power of the Spirit.”
We are called to be a Mañana people, because we worship the God of endless possibilities, the God of new beginnings, the God of resurrection. We are following the Christ who is the Lord of both today and mañana. We are called to be Mañana people and live out of God’s future. The vision of what God desires and what God will do inspires us to work for the new heaven and new earth now. The trust, the faith that God will bring it about, enables us to work in spite of slow progress, setbacks and resistance. We know it is not finally our work. It is God’s work, and thus it will come to pass.
“Behold,” says the Lord, “I am doing a new thing. Can you not see it? I am welcoming the outcast. I am binding up the broken. I am granting justice to the oppressed. I am providing for the needy. And when I am done, there will be a new heaven and a new earth where all people shall be one in the midst of their diversity, where there shall be a just peace and an abundant prosperity shared by all. The former things will pass away and be remembered no more. Weeping and distress shall be no more. And my glory shall be revealed: the glory of human beings fully alive , beholding me and my love, for in them is my delight.
“Will you not join in this work I am doing?” says the Lord. “The world will not always be like this. Will you not embrace this vision of a new heaven and earth, this vision of one, new humanity, my dream of Beloved Community? Come,” says the Lord. “Come and be my Mañana people!”