“Do not be saddened this day,
for rejoicing in the LORD must be your strength!”
Ezra and Nehemiah speak these words to the Israelites
who have returned to Jerusalem
after seventy years of exile in Babylon.
Their long-desired return to their homeland
has proved to be not all that they had hoped for:
their society has been shattered by war;
their religious institutions are in shambles.
As they hear the Law of Moses read to them by Ezra,
they are overwhelmed with how far they have fallen
and how distant their daily lives have become
from all that was promised and demanded by God’s covenant.
And so they weep.
I kind of know how they feel.
We have not spent the past seventy years in exile,
but we have spent nearly two years in the grips of a pandemic
that has not only killed over 850,000 people in our country,
but has disrupted daily life and frayed our social fabric,
and has made many of us fearful of the very things
that give joy and color to life:
travel, concerts, movie-going,
meals shared with family and friends,
and, perhaps most of all, gathering to worship.
Even when we do these things, as many of us do,
we are haunted by a nagging fear
that perhaps we are being irresponsible,
perhaps we might get infected
or, even worse,
infect some vulnerable person.
This nagging fear, this colorless grind,
this sorrowful shrinking of life’s horizon
slowly saddens and exhausts us.
We have not spent the past seventy years in exile,
but we have spent nearly two years in the grips of a pandemic
that has not only killed over 850,000 people in our country,
but has disrupted daily life and frayed our social fabric,
and has made many of us fearful of the very things
that give joy and color to life:
travel, concerts, movie-going,
meals shared with family and friends,
and, perhaps most of all, gathering to worship.
Even when we do these things, as many of us do,
we are haunted by a nagging fear
that perhaps we are being irresponsible,
perhaps we might get infected
or, even worse,
infect some vulnerable person.
This nagging fear, this colorless grind,
this sorrowful shrinking of life’s horizon
slowly saddens and exhausts us.
But the words spoken to the Israelites
are spoken today to us as well:
“Do not be saddened this day,
for rejoicing in the LORD must be your strength!”
These words are not focused on some day in the future
when outward circumstances will have changed enough
to make joy once again possible.
For the Israelites, it is that very day,
in the midst of their sad circumstances,
on which they are told to rejoice.
Because, even amid their sad circumstances,
God is still God.
God’s word of promise to them stands firm
despite what they see in the world around them.
To believe what you cannot see
is what we call faith;
and so the invitation to let
rejoicing in the Lord be their strength
is an invitation to faith.
are spoken today to us as well:
“Do not be saddened this day,
for rejoicing in the LORD must be your strength!”
These words are not focused on some day in the future
when outward circumstances will have changed enough
to make joy once again possible.
For the Israelites, it is that very day,
in the midst of their sad circumstances,
on which they are told to rejoice.
Because, even amid their sad circumstances,
God is still God.
God’s word of promise to them stands firm
despite what they see in the world around them.
To believe what you cannot see
is what we call faith;
and so the invitation to let
rejoicing in the Lord be their strength
is an invitation to faith.
This same invitation is issued by Jesus
in today’s Gospel reading.
In the synagogue he reads the words of Isaiah,
which speak of “a year acceptable to the Lord”:
the time of glad tidings to the poor,
the time of recovery of sight to the blind,
the time of setting the oppressed free,
the time in which the sorrow that drains
all the color and joy from life will be banished.
And then, rolling up the scroll, Jesus says:
“Today this Scripture passage
is fulfilled in your hearing.”
Jesus not only announces
the drawing near of God’s kingdom,
but offers an invitation to faith,
an invitation to his listeners
to believe in that kingdom
that their eyes cannot yet see,
an invitation to let rejoicing in the Lord
be their strength.
in today’s Gospel reading.
In the synagogue he reads the words of Isaiah,
which speak of “a year acceptable to the Lord”:
the time of glad tidings to the poor,
the time of recovery of sight to the blind,
the time of setting the oppressed free,
the time in which the sorrow that drains
all the color and joy from life will be banished.
And then, rolling up the scroll, Jesus says:
“Today this Scripture passage
is fulfilled in your hearing.”
Jesus not only announces
the drawing near of God’s kingdom,
but offers an invitation to faith,
an invitation to his listeners
to believe in that kingdom
that their eyes cannot yet see,
an invitation to let rejoicing in the Lord
be their strength.
Jesus not only makes this invitation to others,
but he lives it out himself.
For the strength that sustains Jesus throughout his ministry—
in the face of opposition and misunderstanding,
betrayal and the cross—
is not grim determination, but joy,
the joy of one for whom
the promises of God are already fulfilled,
one whose mind is saturated with the vision of God.
The Letter to the Hebrews,
calling Jesus “the leader and perfecter of faith,”
says that he endured the cross and despised its shame,
“for the sake of the joy that lay before him” (Heb. 12:12).
Jesus went to the cross
not simply out of a sense to duty to his mission
but because rejoicing in the Lord was his strength.
but he lives it out himself.
For the strength that sustains Jesus throughout his ministry—
in the face of opposition and misunderstanding,
betrayal and the cross—
is not grim determination, but joy,
the joy of one for whom
the promises of God are already fulfilled,
one whose mind is saturated with the vision of God.
The Letter to the Hebrews,
calling Jesus “the leader and perfecter of faith,”
says that he endured the cross and despised its shame,
“for the sake of the joy that lay before him” (Heb. 12:12).
Jesus went to the cross
not simply out of a sense to duty to his mission
but because rejoicing in the Lord was his strength.
And so, what of us?
Our Scriptures today invite us to look beyond
the narrowed horizon that the past two years
have imposed on our vision,
to not resign ourselves to lives drained of color and joy.
Our Scriptures invite us
to let rejoicing in the Lord be our strength,
to let the promise of a year acceptable to the Lord
be fulfilled this day in our hearing.
This is not, however, an invitation
to fantasy and shallow optimism;
it is not an invitation to ignore
the real challenges we continue to face
or naively believe that we are about
to turn the corner on the pandemic.
If life has taught me anything
it is that even when we do turn the corner,
as we surely will,
around that corner there will be another pandemic,
or a war or an economic crisis
or some personal tragedy
or some scandal in the Church.
If life has taught me anything
it is that in our fallen world
there is always something
that can drain life of joy and color.
Our Scriptures today invite us to look beyond
the narrowed horizon that the past two years
have imposed on our vision,
to not resign ourselves to lives drained of color and joy.
Our Scriptures invite us
to let rejoicing in the Lord be our strength,
to let the promise of a year acceptable to the Lord
be fulfilled this day in our hearing.
This is not, however, an invitation
to fantasy and shallow optimism;
it is not an invitation to ignore
the real challenges we continue to face
or naively believe that we are about
to turn the corner on the pandemic.
If life has taught me anything
it is that even when we do turn the corner,
as we surely will,
around that corner there will be another pandemic,
or a war or an economic crisis
or some personal tragedy
or some scandal in the Church.
If life has taught me anything
it is that in our fallen world
there is always something
that can drain life of joy and color.
This is why our Scriptures bid us
to rejoice in faith this very day,
why they invite us to see in faith
God’s promise fulfilled on this very day.
Even in our days of sorrow we find strength in rejoicing
for our faith tells us that what we see is not all there is.
It is through the eyes of faith
that we can see beyond the narrow horizon of now
to the reign of God already becoming present among us;
it is through the eyes of faith
that small acts of kindness,
small acts of resistance,
small acts of hope
can manifest the time acceptable to the Lord;
it is through the eyes of faith
that God’s light streams into our souls,
making all that seemed colorless
to shine with divine glory.
to rejoice in faith this very day,
why they invite us to see in faith
God’s promise fulfilled on this very day.
Even in our days of sorrow we find strength in rejoicing
for our faith tells us that what we see is not all there is.
It is through the eyes of faith
that we can see beyond the narrow horizon of now
to the reign of God already becoming present among us;
it is through the eyes of faith
that small acts of kindness,
small acts of resistance,
small acts of hope
can manifest the time acceptable to the Lord;
it is through the eyes of faith
that God’s light streams into our souls,
making all that seemed colorless
to shine with divine glory.
Let us pray that God
would grant us eyes of faith this very day,
so that rejoicing in the Lord might be our strength,
and God may have mercy on us all.
would grant us eyes of faith this very day,
so that rejoicing in the Lord might be our strength,
and God may have mercy on us all.
