"Beyond the 'Icepocalypse'!"

Text:  Isaiah 35:1-10

Theme:  "Beyond the 'Icepocalypse'"

Third Sunday of Advent

December 15, 2013

FIRST PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH

Denton, Texas

Rev. Paul R. Dunklau

 

+In the Name of Jesus+

 

The desert and the parched land will be glad;
    the wilderness will rejoice and blossom.
Like the crocus, ² it will burst into bloom;
    it will rejoice greatly and shout for joy.
The glory of Lebanon will be given to it,
    the splendor of Carmel and Sharon;
they will see the glory of the Lord,
    the splendor of our God.

³ Strengthen the feeble hands,
    steady the knees that give way;
⁴ say to those with fearful hearts,
    “Be strong, do not fear;
your God will come,
    he will come with vengeance;
with divine retribution
    he will come to save you.”

⁵ Then will the eyes of the blind be opened
    and the ears of the deaf unstopped.
⁶ Then will the lame leap like a deer,
    and the mute tongue shout for joy.
Water will gush forth in the wilderness
    and streams in the desert.
⁷ The burning sand will become a pool,
    the thirsty ground bubbling springs.
In the haunts where jackals once lay,
    grass and reeds and papyrus will grow.

⁸ And a highway will be there;
    it will be called the Way of Holiness;
    it will be for those who walk on that Way.
The unclean will not journey on it;
    wicked fools will not go about on it.
⁹ No lion will be there,
    nor any ravenous beast;
    they will not be found there.
But only the redeemed will walk there,
¹⁰     and 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.

The timing was nearly perfectly in traveling back to Denton. There were only about ten to fifteen minutes or so of dangerous driving conditions.  Nevertheless, we made it, and Diana and I nestled ourselves in for the night as the Icepocalypse got underway on Thursday, December 5, in the week of Advent I.

 

Icepocalypse.  For you linguistic purists, it's a made-up, compound word.   Ice?  That's frozen H2O. Pocalypse?  That's short for apocalypse--which means an uncovering, a revealing, a revelation. There is a form of literature in the Bible that is called apocalyptic. Certain passages in the Old Testament book of Daniel and the New Testament book of Revelation offer examples.  But nowadays, in popular parlance, apocalypse suggests some sort of cataclysmic event -- even the end of the world.  Hollywood has even gotten into the act with all things apocalyptic and even post-apocalyptic.  The motion picture The Book of Eli comes to mind.

 

At any rate, whoever it was called the recent blast of winter weather the Icepocalypse down here in these parts. Do put a hashtag in front of it.  Back where I come from, it's just another December day!  No need for a cute hashtag.

 

Meanwhile,  Pete Delkus, the weather guy, had it just about right -- making up for a previous forecast of  bad winter weather, roughly a week or so earlier, that was much ado about nothing.  This time, he tweeted that our metroplex would be "entombed" in ice.  He pretty much nailed it.  The 18-wheelers were stranded on I-35.  Thus, regular deliveries to the supermarkets were postponed.  After the run on milk, eggs, bread, and other staples, the cupboards at Kroger and Albertsons were bare.  Some folks on social media, with a flair for the dramatic, intimated that it was the "end of civilization."  Church was canceled last Sunday. It reminds me of words from an old Beatles song:

 

Father MacKenzie writing the words of a sermon that no one will hear;

no one comes near.

All the lonely people:  where do they all come from?

 

But, lonely or not, we've "come near" today,  post-icepocalyptically, to, once more, hear the Word of God both read and proclaimed.  And today is unique in that it is the Third Sunday of Advent which has traditionally been called Gaudete Sunday. (I like traditional things.  On close examination, they are so very "contemporary"!)  Gaudete translates from the Latin as "joy" or "to rejoice", and it is linked to that magnificent passage of Holy Scripture from Philippians 4:  "Rejoice in the Lord always.  I will say it again: Rejoice!  Let your gentleness be evident to all.  The Lord is near."  So, yes:  light that pink candle for joy in the midst of three purple ones.  The purple ones suggest repentance -- which is what the season of Advent is all about, mostly -- except for this snippet of joy in the third week.

 

Just as an aside,  most of us have probably already heard about the annual skirmishes in what has been called "The War on Christmas."  Well, as Dr. Seuss reminds us, even the Grinch couldn't keep Christmas from coming!  Actually, from all that I have observed, it seems to be a war on Advent. Advent, for Christians, is more than four weeks of shopping time before Christmas; there's more to it than twenty plus days of decking the halls and decking the malls!   It is season where we, under the light of Holy Scripture, take a good, long, honest look at who we are --and who we are not -- before almighty God.  We take the time, precious time, to heed the call of Advent's great preacher, John the Baptist, to "repent, for kingdom of God is at hand."  Such repentance (or change of mind and heart) requires a certain leveling of pride, it calls forth a willingness to stop picking the immoral speck out of our neighbor's eye while ignoring the log in our own.  Advent calls us, as the saying goes, to "clean up our side of the street."  But our culture, sadly, is powerfully resistant to this.  Hence, we have a war on Advent.

 

But this morning, in the warm confines of First Presbyterian, there is no war on Advent.  Today, beyond the Icepocalypse, there is joy in our reading, proclaiming, and hearing of God's Word.  We take our cue, in the text, from the prophet Isaiah:  "The desert and the parched land will be glad; the wilderness will rejoice and blossom.  Like the crocus, it will burst into bloom; it will rejoice greatly and shout for joy." There's nothing there about being entombed in ice!  With this joyful and metaphorical language, Isaiah is trying to tell us that the "glory" and "splendor" of God will be seen.  Count on it.

 

This good news prompts action."Strengthen the feeble hands, steady the knees that give way; say to those fearful hearts, 'Be strong, do not fear; your God will come to save you."

 

In Jesus Christ, that helpless infant lying in Bethlehem's manger and now the risen King of kings and Lord of lords, God has done just that.  "You shall give him the name Jesus," the angel said, "for he will save his people from their sins."

 

Isaiah says that the blind will see, the deaf will hear, the lame will leap like a deer.  Sounds like Jesus to me.  Does it sound like Jesus to you? He fulfills the prophecy!  Burning sand becomes a pool.  Thirsty ground becomes a fountain.  It sound to me that the injustices and the inequities brought on by human sin in this world, brought on by all that hellish and self-centered turning away from God, will one day be rectified.  You have that confidence on the highest authority; you have it from God.

 

Then, in the ultimate joy, we hear of a highway -- a heavenly interstate, if you will.  Isaiah says:  "A highway will be there; it will be called the way of holiness.  Traffic will be light and the sailing will be safe because the unclean will not be upon it. You will find no wicked fools on that highway --and no lions and/or ferocious beasts to cross your path.  No road rage here!

 

"Only the redeemed will walk there," says the prophet.  If you are redeemed, then you have a Redeemer.  In Jesus Christ, crucified and risen from the grave, you have just that:  a Redeemer. 

 

"And the ransomed of the Lord will return," cries the prophet.  If you are ransomed, then you have a ransomer.  In Jesus Christ, whose birth we are about to celebrate, you have just that. 

 

One day, you will enter God's heaven with singing.  Everlasting joy will crown your head.  Gladness will overtake you.  Sorrow and sighing will flee away.  Almighty God promises that to YOU!

 

Don't miss it for the world.  Beyond the icepocalypse, the highway is still there. The eyes of faith see it clearly.  The on-ramp has no black ice, for our sins have been paid for -- salted over! -- by Jesus Christ. 

 

Just Friday, in the darkness of a pre-dawn hour, I drove through the farmlands of Nebraska . The darkness was deep, but stars twinkled in the sky and Christmas lights adorned many a farm house.  It was bone-chillingly cold -- thirteen degrees above zero, to be exact, but the coffee was fresh,  the car warm, and the highway clear. The day began to dawn on fields of snow, with the sun stretching through a thin layer of cloud.  There was a white, twinkling admixture of fog and snow hovering over the land like a thin blanket.  It was breathtakingly beautiful.  I had long since turned off the incessant chatter of the radio and pumped Christmas music through the stereo -- and I heard it:  "And the glory of Lord shall be revealed -- and all mankind shall see it together, for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it."  In time, I made it home.

 

In the end, ultimately, by the grace of God, we all will make it home-- beyond the Icepocalypse, toZion, to the home that the child of Christmas has gone to prepare for us.   And that's the good news for Advent III, Gaudete Sunday!

 

Amen.