Preschool kids are great. I didn't get the chance to ask them, but I would bet when they didn't get to go to preschool Monday, they were probably pretty bummed. Whereas, today when they could go, they were probably pretty excited. But if you were to ask them, they would have two words for it-happy and sad. They were sad when they couldn't go. They were happy when they could.
Happy and sad. These words aren't too precise but they do a good job explaining how they feel. They also do a good job explaining the life of a Christian and the way Old-Testament saints would see Christmas.
Happy and sad. There's nothing complicated about it. But maybe we should reverse the order. Sad and then happy. There, now you have Law and Gospel. Sad because we can't be what we know we should be. Sad because we hurt people. Happy because God forgives us for Jesus' sake. Sad and then happy. It's that simple.
We tend to complicate things and that only messes it up. We might want to throw in another word, determined. Determined to live a godly life, determined to do the best we can, determined to give glory to God, but determined does not really have a place in these simple emotions. You would never hear it from our preschool children. You might see it. You might see determination as they struggle to color inside the lines or remember what a letter is, but you would not hear them say it. Better then for us, to just stick to the words they would use and we will stay straight on Law and Gospel-sad and then happy.
Sad and then happy does a great job of describing how the Old Testament saints would see Christmas, particularly in the setting Isaiah is describing. They were sad. They were waiting for the Promised One to come but it seemed to take so long, they were wondering if He was ever going to come. They were sad because they weren't in their own country, and they felt abandoned. Sad, but then happy because they heard the news that the Messiah was coming to deliver them. They had frowny faces and then smiley faces.
Abraham was the same way when we talk about the Christmas promise. He had been promised he was going to be the father of many nations, but he had not had a single child. How was this supposed to happen? He was 90 years old and still nothing had happened. He was not a dumb bunny. He knew 80 year old women and 90 year old men don't have children. And yet, he had this promise. He was very sad. Did the Lord lie to him?
Then the Lord took him outside and told him to look at the stars. That would be how many descendants he would have. Look at all those stars. Count them, if you can. But one of those stars is going to be the big one. It is the one he would be waiting for. It is the promised One, the One who will redeem all of humanity. Abraham was sad, and then he was happy.
God's people were sad. They were in Babylon. They had been taken out of their home country of Canaan. It would be a while, though, before they were going to be able to leave, before they were to get to go home.
Isaiah is not there yet. This is over 70 years ahead of his time. Over 70 years from the time Isaiah was living. The Lord has given him a vision and a message that will one day be one spoken to the weary Israelites in exile. It's like John in Revelation. He sees into the future and speaks it into the present. So, again, here is the situation. These are words to be spoken to the children and the grandchildren of his current congregation. They won't be in the same country his congregation is in now. They will be in Babylon, and they will feel abandoned. God's wrath for his current congregation's faithlessness will be vented. And then it will be done. That is the point in time of this prophecy.
Now comes the happy time. "Comfort, comfort my people." The Lord says this to Isaiah, His prophet. He wants Isaiah to speak this and for his people to hear this 70 plus years from now.
Interestingly, this week of Advent is called "Gaudete," which means "rejoice." Rejoice is a happy word. Comfort is too. If we think of rejoicing we think of people jumping around, shouting. We think of adrenaline and lots of activity. When we think of comfort we think of it as being quiet, soothing, gentle. They may not sound the same, they create different pictures in our mind, but they are both happy words.
Comfort my people. Tell them these comforting words. Tell them they have suffered enough. It is over and done.
I can't help hearing this and thinking of the crucifixion. Here's the tough part. This part that sounds sad is the part that makes us happy because it was done for us. Jesus is suffering on the cross, dying for our sins. He is feeling His father's anger, the anger we ought to feel. The measure of His anger is filling up. It's like the Father is watching a needle on a pressure gauge. Jesus is shriveling under the intense heat of the anger. It doesn't let up. "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me." But still no break. It only intensifies. The needle is climbing, 97, 98, 99, 100. All of a sudden it reaches the full measure. The Father says to His dear Son, "You have suffered enough. The price for the sins of the world are paid. No more suffering is necessary." The pressure is relieved. Jesus breathes a sigh of relief. "It is finished."
And now hear the Lord speak, "Tell them they have suffered enough." The price is paid. And yet, they didn't pay the price, the Lord Himself did. It happened there on the cross.
But they would not see their sin. This was the sad time. They refused the forgiveness won for them because they didn't see their need. But now, they had learned to look for mercy. They learned to see their sin and see their need. Now the time had come for them to see the mercy. And here comes the happy part.
The reason for their comfort is announced. A voice cries out. Prepare the way of the Lord. Here He comes. The people are separated from their home land by a desert, the Arabian desert. And now coming across the sands is their Savior. He is coming to lead them home. Just as their ancestors had been led through the desert wilderness for 40 years to their home in the Promised Land, they were going to be crossing the desert back to their home. The homecoming would be happy. They would sing and dance and laugh. The journey would be over before they even realized it.
To lead them on their journey, though, the Lord must come. He must come to them. And so the cry goes out, "Prepare the way for the Lord." Raise the valleys, lower the mountains. Don't let anything impede His progress. But before they begin the journey, He must come to get them.
The people of Jerusalem threw not just palm branches, but cloaks on the ground as Jesus rode into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday. It leveled out the path, made it easier for the donkeys. If it was cobblestone, now it was soft. He comes. See your need. When you see it, then you will rejoice.
Rejoice. The advent cry goes out to us. Prepare the way of the Lord. He is coming. Lower the mountains and raise the valleys. Confess your sins.
This is the hard part, the sad part. We don't do too well with this sad part. We want the happy part, but we don't know what to do with the sad part. The sad part is there when we hurt other people, when we push to have our way, when we become frustrated that things aren't the way we think they should be. But rather than seeing it for what it is, sin and our own sin, our own contribution, which, I must admit, would make us sadder, we just want to plaster it over with the happy. We want to ignore it. But that prevents the happy from really being happy.
Prepare the way of the Lord. It's what John the Baptizer cries out. It is what we need to hear this evening. Confess your sin. Endure the sad part. Let the sad part be sad. And then let the Savior take you into happiness. Hear Him speak to you about what He has done with your sins. Comfort and joy, the happy part, tidings of comfort and joy, just like the popular Christmas carol, "God Rest ye Merry Gentlemen," puts it. This is the message of Christmas, a much fuller message than most of us would think, the message of Christmas in the eyes of the Old Testament saints.
AMEN