Immanuel: longing for God

Sermon planned for Sunday, December 19th, 2010

Texts: Isaiah 7:10-16; Matthew 1:18-25


The Bible ends as it begins. The story of God’s journey with humanity began in a garden, a time when Adam and Eve could hear God walking around in the garden (Gen 3:8). In Revelation, we read about the fulfillment of this story – not the end of the story – and it is a time when God is, once again, at home among mortals. God sets up camp in the middle of the holy city, and the light that emanates from God’s being replaces the light of the Sun (Rev 21:23). The story begins with “Immanuel: God is with us”, and the story finds its fulfillment in a time when God will live with us in the new Jerusalem.

Immanuel: God-with-us! This is the promise we heard about in both the reading from Isaiah and in the Christmas story in Matthew. It is the promise that drives the human soul. Our soul is a moving thing – it desires, it longs, it anticipates. Being created in the image of our Living God, our own soul, too, is a Living thing that desires. And in the Bible we learn that our soul’s desire is to be fulfilled in God; to be with God, and for God to be united with us. Early Christian pastor, Augustine of Hippo, wrote that a person’s heart is restless until it finds its rest in God. This restlessness is part of how we’re created. But this restlessness is also easily misdirected.

For me, as a child, the season of Advent had one purpose alone; it was a time to anticipate gifts and family gatherings. It’s only as I’ve gotten older that the hope of Immanuel has really invaded my longings at Christmastime and throughout the year. God’s gift in Jesus brings me real joy & hope. It fulfills a deep longing.

The Israelites had a deep longing for God’s presence. Their peace, their hope, and their joy was sinking. Their enemies had taken them into captivity – and their soul’s desire – to sing the joyful songs of Zion – went unsatisfied. To this disheartened community, Isaiah spoke a word of prophecy. He said that God would send a child to deliver them. His name was to be Immanuel, God with us. There’s a bit of a debate among Christian scholars as to whether Isaiah was pointing us to Jesus, or whether he already had a person in mind, who was living at the time. After all, it was Cyrus, the King of the Persians, who delivered Israel from captivity in Babylon. Was the original prophecy fulfilled by Cyrus’ deliverance, or was it fulfilled in Jesus?

I believe that the prophecy was fulfilled in both. A prophecy can be fulfilled at one time, and then reach another level of fulfillment, and then reach an even deeper level of completion. When the Holy Spirit speaks a Word to a prophet, that prophet relays that message to the people, but the Spirit also has the infinite capacity to speak again and again through that same Word.

The Bible is a great example of this. Human experience is as various as the grains of sand on the beach; and yet, the Holy Spirit can and will use one Bible to speak a fresh Word of God into each situation. Another example of this is what happens every Sunday when I preach. Inevitably I’ll get a comment from one of you saying, “Marco… I really liked how you said this about this-or-that topic”… and then, in my mind, I’ll think: “you know what, I didn’t even say anything about that!” It’s like the Holy Spirit does something to the words between the time when I preach them and when those words hit your ears. In other words, the Spirit of God has the infinite capacity to speak something fresh through an earlier message.

King Cyrus, and his deliverance of the captives in Babylon, was God’s way of being with Israel – it was God’s way of being Immanuel to His people. And yet, even Isaiah recognized that his prophecy would have an even deeper fulfillment someday. In Isaiah 9:6, we read the prophecy: “For a child has been born for us, a son given to us; authority rests upon his shoulders; and he is named Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.” This is a prophecy that Isaiah would not have made in direct relation to King Cyrus – Cyrus may have been God’s instrument, but he was not the “Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.” This layer of fulfilment to God’s deliverance would only come later.

This is where we come to Matthew’s account of Jesus’ birth. Jesus was the true Immanuel in a way that King Cyrus could only faintly resemble. Once again, the context of the angel’s message to Joseph was that of persecution and exile. God’s people were under Roman rule. King Herod was a puppet for Rome, and Israel was still living in exile. For the Israelite, true peace and freedom could only come when they lived under God’s rule in the promised land. They longed for Zion to be restored and for unhindered worship and allegiance to God. Instead, they were ‘permitted’ to live in the holy land by the decree of Caesar and forced to pay tribute to rulers that considered themselves divine.

Into this world of idolatry, and amidst Israel’s deep longings for redemption, the angel proclaimed: “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” Matthew was quick to point out that this Jesus was the fulfillment of Isaiah’s prophecy. Jesus is Immanuel: God with us. Once again, as God’s people faced political destruction, and spiritual decay, God was determined to be with his people.

With the fulfillment of this prophecy, you think history would’ve come to an end. If the entire purpose of God’s creation was that God and humans were to be united in loving fellowship, then you think the Incarnation would have been the final chapter. God had done for us what none of us could accomplish on our own – God had closed the gap between Creator and created; God had assumed flesh.

But, as I said earlier, the human soul is restless. The gospel of John tells us that the light came into the world, but that the world rejected the light. We loved the darkness. We loved sin. Israel longed for a King, a deliverer, but the minute he was born, we were already trying to kill him. And as soon as Joseph found out Mary was pregnant he was already trying to shrug her off. But the angel showed up and set things straight. Where would we be if it wasn’t for angels? Ever think about that? Only a few people saw the moment for what it was – thanks to angels and a star: a few wise men and some shepherds came to worship “Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace” – a baby boy lying in a feeding trough.

The human soul is restless; it longs for deeper fulfillment, but most of the time it is like a raging storm that knows no boundaries, and no peace. Herod wanted total power. Joseph wanted a secure reputation. Mary – well, I’m sure she had other plans for her life than bearing a child at her age. We too have many longings and hopes. As a child I was consumed by desires for stuff, stuff and more stuff. I remember not being able to sleep, during this time of the year, because of my anticipation for the presents under the tree. As a young teenage boy, I was possessed by other wants and desires. Once I discovered the alluring beauty of the other half of the population, it took all my energy to not think about them all the time. Like I said, humans are filled with desires and longings. Is this a good thing? Is this the way God created us, or is this part of our fallen nature?

I’m convinced that our nature, as desiring humans, is part of what it means to be created in the image of God. The problem is that our longings and desires are often more like a loose cannon, than a creative stream. Early Christian pastors often spoke about the Christian’s spiritual life as a kind of athletic training. They wrote that Christian spirituality is about training our hearts to desire God.

The training ground for the human soul is found in each situation and in each relationship. In marriage, we’re supposed train our hearts to love selflessly. In parenthood, we’re supposed to train our hearts in vulnerability and trust. In friendship, we’re supposed to train our hearts for sacrifice and commitment. In work and play, we train our hearts for creativity and beauty. Why train our hearts? Well, because our life’s end is about spending an eternity with God. Our longings and our desires need training. Of course, this training in Christian spirituality transforms us if, and only if, the Holy Spirit is present and the main actor. We don’t accomplish this training on our own. In all these areas of training, the Holy Spirit is the coach, the energizing power that transforms us.

Our restlessness needs direction. It’s why parents keep reminding their children about the true meaning of Christmas. Without this yearly reminder, we’d think that the real meaning of Christmas is found at family gatherings and underneath pine trees. Our desires need to be properly ordered; it’s why we celebrate marriage as a gift from God to bring order to the loose cannon of human sexuality. Our human longings and our human restlessness will find its fulfillment, ultimately, when we’re united with God – when God is fully with us.

The promise of redemption sounds great when things are difficult – when we’re experiencing pain and anxiety. It was during their exile in Babylon that the Israelites needed a liberator. In their weak status under Rome, they needed a King who could throw the princes off their thrones. But this promise is not only for those who are going through rough times.

For some of you, life is terrific. Things couldn’t be going better for you. It’s at these high points that it is easy to forget. When things are going well, it’s easy to think that our longing and restlessness has found its goal. I encourage you to allow the Christmas story to transform your desires. I encourage you to disrupt this year’s usually calm celebration with a radical act of hospitality. Disturb your usual luxury with a challenging display of generosity. Give your soul an athletic work-out, and make your spiritual muscles sore. May your Christmas experience feel more like a marathon than a soothing glass of eggnog; because it’s then that you know that you’re being pointed back to the baby boy who was worshiped as King.

And for many of you, life isn’t terrific. Life is difficult. For many of you, things could be going a whole lot better. For you it is painfully obvious that the hope and joy of Christmas is a complicated one at best. I can preach as much as I want about joy, peace, and glad tidings – for you, this Christmas is going to be a painful rehearsal of loneliness and brokenness, conflict and anxiety. You have much in common with the main actors of our story. You know what Israel felt like. You know what it feels like to be a stranger: alone and deserted. When I preach about Immanuel: God is with us, all you can say is: are you sure? Marco, are you really sure that God is with us? Would my life be falling to pieces like this if God were with me? Are you sure you want to call him Immanuel? For many of you, you need the promise of Immanuel to go deeper than what you’re experiencing. You need that prophecy to have another layer of fulfillment.

There are no easy answers for you. But the Spirit of God is powerful. In times of despair, the Holy Spirit has spoken words of comfort and promise to God’s people. Even after Jesus victoriously rose from the grave, and ascended to heaven, life for God’s people continued in struggle. Under the rule of Roman Emperors, many early Christians were tortured and brutally killed. Emperor Domition would light Christians on fire, as Candles, in order to give light to his garden parties. Christians were like sheep in a field of vicious wolves. And into that painful reality, the Holy Spirit spoke a word of promise to a man named John, who was exiled onto the island of Patmos. In the final part of his vision, John wrote about a time when God would no longer be shrouded in mystery. He wrote,
Revelation 21:1-3 Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. 2 And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. 3 And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, "See, the home of God is among mortals. He will dwell with them; they will be his peoples, and God himself will be with them
In the midst of their ongoing persecution, the Holy Spirit spoke a word of promise: God will be with you. Even after the prophecy about Immanuel was fulfilled in Jesus, we hear this promise again. God is with you, and one day God will be at home among mortals. Whether you are in a good space this season, or your entire world seems to be on the brink of collapse: the promise of Immanuel is for us today. Christmas doesn’t mean that Jesus came and now everything’s fine. Things aren’t always fine. Sometimes our lives feel like they’re falling apart. But this Advent we’re pointed towards the hope: that this year God’s Spirit is still fulfilling the promise of Immanuel. God is still choosing to be with us

God is with us – He’s committed to us, from beginning to end. The promise of Immanuel comes amidst brokenness, and despite this chaos, you can choose to respond to God in faith like Mary & Joseph. This Christmas, our brokenness does not crush us; it does not keep us from being able to commit. We can join Mary and say – may it be with me according to your will! And what does God will? Immanuel! I’m with you all the way!