The setting for our passage is the last years of the Exile or, more likely, several years after the end of the Exile. From 587-538 BCE, many Jews were kept in Exile in faraway Babylon as prisoners of war. Some of the prophets saw this Exile as God’ punishment of Israel for the sins of injustice and idolatry. The former residents of the small kingdom of Judah had lost their land, their beloved temple, their homes, and their Davidic monarchy. Chastised for two generations, these Jews were now liberated and allowed to return home when Persia conquered Babylon. The Exile had been turned into a new Exodus—a way out of the humiliation of being controlled by the evil, violent, and pagan Babylonian Empire. It was time to return home.
However, the home they returned to was in shambles. The Temple had been destroyed. The land had not been cultivated. And though they were allowed to go back to their ancestral lands, they remained under the ultimate control of another empire (Persia). In fact, except for the brief Maccabean period, the Jews would never again be an independent nation. The author of this portion of Isaiah was trying to encourage the returning Jews to accept their new status and to see this new beginning as a joyful opportunity granted by a God who was, once again, ready to embrace them as Her own. Laughter and joy were necessary for this homecoming for the Jews to recover their identity as the chosen people of God. Freedom from any kind of exile must be accompanied by gratitude, joy, and a renewed sense of identity and purpose. Sometimes, freedom is more frightening and demanding than enslavement. (We must remember that all prophecy in the Hebrew Scriptures comes in the form of poetry. Poetry requires imagination and often uses metaphors to express truth and allow for something to be born in common space and time. Isaiah 40-66 contains some of the most beautiful poetry found anywhere in history. Poetry inspires people to see beyond the world that is and to imagine a newness which is beyond all expectation. Poetry allows us to see what is yet to be born and is waiting in the corridors of eternity to surprise and grace this world.)
The late popular Christian humorist Grady Nutt often said, “Laughter is the hand of God on the shoulder of a troubled world.” Of course, Nutt was referring to a specific type of laughter which ultimately stems from joy. There are other types of laughter that are not worthy of our identities as children of God and sisters and brother of Jesus. There is the laughter of derision, sarcasm, and satisfaction over the misery of someone we envy or dislike. There is the laughter which comes with the accumulation of wealth gained through greed, corruption, and dishonesty. There is the laughter which erupts when we see our enemies fall and suffer defeat. (Psalm 137 ends with these words: “Happy shall he be who takes your infants and dashes them against the rocks.” This psalm is a prayer for revenge looking forward with glee to the day when Babylonian infants will have their brains smashed on rocks once Babylon, like all empires, falls and suffers defeat.)
The third Sunday of Advent often focuses on joy. Laughter motivated by unadulterated joy can indeed be the hand of God on the shoulder of a troubled world. Such laughter is a gift from God, a gift that we need in a world of terrorism and violence, estrangement and bigotry, greed and lies. All is not calm and all is not bright in our world today. Authentic joy is a stranger to much of the human race because so many humans live in a state of exile. Exile can come in many forms. Biblical scholar Walter Brueggemann suggests that we in the U.S. are in exile, estranged from God, our fellow humans, nature, and our deepest selves. The Jews in Exile asked with much sorrow, “How can we sing the Lord’s song in a strange land?” Their “strange land” was Babylon where they were prisoners of war. The “strange land” we experience is a culture alienated from goodness, justice, truth, belonging, and compassion. So many in our society are so cursed by greed, selfish individualism, and paranoia that they too have trouble singing the Lord’s song and gracing themselves and their world with laughter emerging from authentic and deep joy.
Methodist minister Jim Harnish writes profoundly about the kind of joy and laughter we need and which can only come from a deep trust and experience of God:
The resonant laughter echoing from heaven is not cheap, shallow, watery frivolity; it is rich, deep, vivid joy. It is gladness that comes from the same place as suffering; joy that comes from the same place as tears. It is the joy of men and women who face the suffering, injustice, and pain of the world in all its fury, but have taken hold of something stronger, deeper and more powerful. They have grasped the assurance of the ultimate triumph of the goodness of God. They are of good cheer because they know that the power of God in Jesus Christ has overcome the world.
The author of our passage today was well acquainted with the evil and suffering of this world. And the people to whom he spoke were also familiar with the harsh sides of life. But Isaiah realized that the only way out of their exile was to trust the goodness of God and to live into the joy that was available regardless of their geographic location or present circumstances. So, in his beautiful poetry, he said:
Creation will be renewed.
The ruined cities will be rebuilt.
The exiles will come home.
The oppressed will hear good news.
Those who mourn will be comforted.
Jesus had a similar message as he gathered his disciples near the end of his life: “You will weep and mourn, you will have pain, but your pain will be turned to joy. No one will take your joy from you. In the world you will have persecution. . . But be of good cheer, for I have overcome the world.” (John 16:20-33) In this passage, Jesus compares the persecution and suffering his followers will experience to the pain of childbirth. The anguish a mother feels while in labor is forgotten as she holds her newborn in her arms and experiences great joy.
Unfortunately, the Jewish homecoming after the Exile did not reflect a fulfillment of Isaiah’s promises of joy and restoration. God was ready to do a new thing, but the people of God were not willing to give birth to such radical and liberating newness. For six more centuries greed, injustice, and compromised religion plagued Jewish history. This downward spiral characterized Jesus’ own day. He warned his fellow Jews that if they did not embrace the radical newness available in the Kingdom of God movement which he came to flesh out, they too would suffer violent exile. Love, compassion, and peace were the only paths to joy and life worth living. Less than forty years after Jesus’ death and resurrection, the Jews’ choice of violence, greed, and revenge exploded into a rebellion against Rome. Their defeat at the hands of the Romans brought an end to Temple Judaism, the loss of Jerusalem, hundreds of thousands of deaths, and a brutal scattering of the Jewish people throughout the ancient Mediterranean world. In the face of such a defeat, there was no laughter or rejoicing.
I do not know how our exile will end, but I do know this: joy and healing laughter will never be ours until we are willing to give birth to the possibilities that can allow for such a blessing. In so many ways, we need the hand of God on our collective shoulder. And I’m not referring to a proliferation of the sick religion which is masquerading as Christianity today. I am referring to a radical embrace of the example of Jesus who has promised to give us abundant joy if—IF we follow him. Such a following will be met with violence, ridicule, lies, and misunderstanding by much of our world (and perhaps especially by those who call themselves Christians but do not demonstrate anything resembling the life and example of Jesus). That is the cross we are called to carry. But if we have really “taken hold of something stronger, deeper and more powerful,” and trust in the “ultimate triumph of the goodness of God,” deep and abiding joy will bless our lives and eventually our world. Only laughter which emerges from that kind of joy can be called “the hand of God on the shoulder of a troubled world.”
Isaiah 61:1-4, 8-11 (NRSV)
The spirit of the Lord God is upon me,
because the Lord has anointed me;
he has sent me to bring good news to the oppressed,
to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim liberty to the captives,
and release to the prisoners;
2 to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor,
and the day of vengeance of our God;
to comfort all who mourn;3 to provide for those who mourn in Zion—
to give them a garland instead of ashes,
the oil of gladness instead of mourning,
the mantle of praise instead of a faint spirit.
They will be called oaks of righteousness,
the planting of the Lord, to display his glory.4 They shall build up the ancient ruins,
they shall raise up the former devastations;
they shall repair the ruined cities,
the devastations of many generations.
—
8 For I the Lord love justice,
I hate robbery and wrongdoing;
I will faithfully give them their recompense,
and I will make an everlasting covenant with them.9 Their descendants shall be known among the nations,
and their offspring among the peoples;
all who see them shall acknowledge
that they are a people whom the Lord has blessed.10 I will greatly rejoice in the Lord,
my whole being shall exult in my God;
for he has clothed me with the garments of salvation,
he has covered me with the robe of righteousness,
as a bridegroom decks himself with a garland,
and as a bride adorns herself with her jewels.11 For as the earth brings forth its shoots,
and as a garden causes what is sown in it to spring up,
so the Lord God will cause righteousness and praise
to spring up before all the nations.
