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Journeying Through CreationDelivered November 2, 2003 Text: Isaiah 40:27-31
Main Idea: When we grow sceptical and discouraged on our journey of faith, it is good to look at the creation we are journeying through, for it reminds us of God's power and eternal care and concern.
That's a wonderful picture, and it will strengthen us greatly on our journey of faith if we always keep it in mind. Sometimes, however, that vision seems a long way off. When hardships arise on our journey, it is easy to lose sight of our final goal. That is a theme often found in the Bible. When the people of Israel, for example, were delivered from slavery in Egypt, they knew they were travelling to God's promised land. Their destination was firmly fixed in their minds as they left Egypt with gratitude, joy and anticipation. But the journey took longer than they thought it would, even after they crossed the Red Sea and put the threat of the Egyptian army behind them. A great wilderness still stretched ahead of them, a wilderness they ultimately would not fully cross for 40 years. Those wilderness years were difficult ones, and were often filled with grumbling and complaining. The people actually began to question God's care. At times they even lost sight of where they were going, and thought it would be better to return to Egypt.
Rather than judge the children of Israel, it helps to realize that their story is our story. Our own journeys of faith will sometimes take us through the wilderness. And like them, we will experience times of testing, times of unexpected difficulties, times of hardship. Life does not always go according to plan. Financial problems suddenly arise, relationships become strained or broken, our health may begin to fail, or we may experience direct persecution as a result of our faith. Such events may lead us to question God's care. Has God forgotten me? Does God know my situation? Does God know how difficult it is to continue on this journey of following Christ? At such times we may lose sight of the New Jerusalem. When the road of faith becomes rough those who travel on it need encouragement and reassurance: encouragement that God indeed watches over them with power and love, together with the reassuring promise to see them through to journey's end.
Even though God had warned his people of such a fate because of their persistent disobedience, God now addresses the exiles (in Isaiah 40) with words designed to comfort them (overhead): "Lift up your eyes on high and see: Who created these? He who brings out their host and numbers them, calling them all by name; because he is great in strength, not one of them is missing. Why do you say, O Jacob, and speak, O Israel, ‘My way is hidden from the Lord?'" (vv. 26-27a). These words may seem to offer rather strange encouragement. To a discouraged and disheartened people held captive in a foreign city, God says, "Lift up your eyes and look at the stars." How does that help? And what possible word does it have for us when our journey becomes rough?
But still, how does that help? If during our faith journey we feel alone and forgotten, why should we venture outside in the cool of the evening and look at the stars? We need to read on. The knowledge that God created them is then applied in a wonderful way to these skeptical and discouraged people. As you look at the stars, remember this, says God. I know how many stars there are. I know them all by name. Each one is special to me. None of them are overlooked or forgotten. Then comes the challenging yet tender question, "O Israel, how can you say the Lord does not see your troubles?" God is reminding his people that he cares for all that he has created. The implication is clear: if God cares this much for aspects of his creation, how much more does God care for you! We are the height of God's creation. God knows us, God calls us by name, God does not forget about us or abandon us. Jesus taught that even the very hairs on our head are numbered, so precious are we in God's eyes. God says to us: "I see you, I know you, I love you, I will lead you safely home."
It helps greatly to apply such knowledge during our faith journey. For as we journey to be with God, we are journeying through creation. On all sides we are surrounded by God's handiwork. Ultimately what Isaiah is saying to Israel and to us is this: let nature be a signpost to you as you journey, a signpost of God's loving concern. Jesus taught the same thing when he said: "Look at the birds of the air...consider the wildflowers in the fields...see how God cares for them...and remember that God cares much more for you." Alister McGrath puts it well: "The God who has called you is the God who has made this world, through which you are passing. Is not he greater than anything in this world? Will not the one who made all things see you through all things as you journey to be with him?...The God who made everything that we can see, and more besides, cares for us. We matter to him" (The Journey, pp. 44-45). If the billions of stars in the galaxy matter to God, and not one is missing, think what that says about us.
My earliest memory of a spiritual encounter with God occurred when I was in junior high. I was at Green Hill Lake Camp, just north of Fredericton. It was evening, and I was walking through an open field by myself, lingering slowly, not wanting to go back yet to my cabin and the other boys. I felt lonely, but it wasn't entirely a sad loneliness, it was a loneliness that seemed to call me to reach out to God. And so I looked up at the stars, and as I stared at them, I was overcome by a sense of my own smallness. But I didn't mind, for somehow my smallness spoke to me about God's greatness. God created all of the stars and galaxies, how powerful he must be. These stars which have witnessed every event of human history, how timeless God must be. I didn't hardly know this God at all, but that moment is a significant landmark in my faith journey. It marked the awakening of a desire to know the great God of all creation, the one who made all things, including me. God wanted the people of Israel to remember his great strength and eternal nature, so he asked them to look at the stars. But how did that help them in their situation, as exiles in the world's most powerful empire? If they had eyes to see and ears to hear, they would have realized that it led to a thrilling insight. Babylon may be strong, but God is infinitely more powerful; Babylon's dominance may seem like it will never fail, but only God is eternal. Ultimately such insights, for those who had faith to grasp them, would provide great hope for those longing for their homeland. The empires of this world will come and go, but our God endures forever, to support and sustain those who trust in him. And now this very God was promising to lead them safely home. That promise was given earlier in chapter 40: "A voice cries out, ‘In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God"–a highway which would help the people complete their journey, from Babylon to Jerusalem.
Seeing God's power and eternity in creation can also be a powerful incentive for us when we walk the challenging road of discipleship. For the power of God reminds us that all of our problems are small compared to God's infinite might. And the timeless nature of God reminds us that God eternally watches over us as his people. And this powerful, eternal God has promised to lead us out of danger and safely home to the New Jerusalem. None of this means that our problems are insignificant: financial difficulties, relationship problems, poor health, feelings of failure, and persecution are very real. But what it means is that the God who cares for us constantly watches over us and has power to help us. Listen again to Isaiah: "God does not faint or grow weary, his understanding is unsearchable" (v. 28). When we are at our weakest, God is still strong. When we like Israel we are at the point of despair, and feel like God has forgotten or abandoned us, we can look to creation and remember that God watches over us with eternal power and love. The one who sees every star, every bird, and every flower, also sees our every trial.
It is not always easy to be patient on our journey of faith. If we had it our way, we would never stay long on the rough road, where the travelling is slow, where there are many obstacles, and where we must haltingly plod along. But if everything always went smoothly, how would we learn to trust God? How would our faith grow? Faith potentially grows the strongest during those times when there is little or nothing we can do to improve our situation, and only God can intervene. Those who learn to wait for God in such circumstances will find their trust is well rewarded. For their faithful God will intervene, and they will find their lives transformed. Just like Israel miraculously found her situation transformed when the people returned from exile after many decades in captivity. From all outward appearances God's people may seem fallen and defeated, but God will lift them up, and they will soar up on eagle's wings, and fly! The Lord himself will renew their strength, and they will continue their journey: they will run and not be weary, they will walk and not faint. Such is the joyful situation of those who open their eyes to see God in creation and learn to patiently wait upon him with childlike trust.
"Winters can be long and cold where I come from (he lives in Wolfville, NS). The steady, biting cold and the extended hours of darkness can wear down one's spirits. By the time February comes I often find myself battling lethargy and discouragement. Winter holds the land, and my spirits, in its icy grip. One February I was especially feeling the weight of the cold and dark. Going to work one morning I decided for some reason to forego my morning prayers and head out for a walk instead. Through the streets of our small town I trudged, out onto the dykelands, rich farmland built by Acadian settlers some three hundred years before. As I began to walk my eyes followed the lead of my spirit. They focussed downward, watching my boots grudgingly crunch through hard-packed snow. Every step was laboured. Gradually, though, I lifted my head, and my eyes met a brilliant, shimmering, blue sky. My attention was riveted. Then across the dykelands, miles off in the distance, I saw the imposing red cliffs of Cape Blomidon. The grandeur of Blomidon led the aboriginal peoples of Nova Scotia, the Mi'kmaq, to declare it the resting place of their god, Glooscap. My cold dull spirits were jolted by the sheer beauty of what I was seeing. I walked with new energy, then I stopped and slowly turned my body around again and again to take in the full splendour of that scene. "Open your eyes," I heard from somewhere. I continued my walk with those three words ringing in my heart. It was as if I had woken up and found myself in a new world. My spirits were irretrievably lifted well beyond the reach of winter doldrums. In days that followed I continued to hear the healing echo of those words: "Open your eyes." I was given new eyes, not only to see the beauty of creation, but also to see God's work in so many other areas of my life" (Companions for Your Spiritual Journey, pp. 121-121). As we continue our faith journey through creation, may our eyes be open to see our great God who watches over us with eternal power and love. "I lift my eyes up to the mountains–where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth" (Psalm 121:1). |