Shoveling Snow

Comfort, comfort my people,
says your God.
² Speak tenderly to Jerusalem,
    and cry to her
that her warfare is ended,
    that her iniquity is pardoned,
that she has received from the Lord’s hand
    double for all her sins.

³ A voice cries:
“In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord,
    Make straight in the desert a highway for our God.
⁴ Every valley shall be lifted up,
    and every mountain and hill be made low;
the uneven ground shall become level,
    and the rough places a plain.
⁵ And the glory of the Lord shall be revealed,
    and all flesh shall see it together,
    for the mouth of the Lord has spoken.”

A voice says, “Cry!”
    And I said, “What shall I cry?”
All flesh is grass,
    and all its beauty is like the flower of the field.
⁷ The grass withers, the flower fades,
    when the breath of the Lord blows upon it;
    surely the people is grass.
⁸ The grass withers, the flower fades;
    but the word of our God will stand for ever.  Isaiah 40:1-8

I sit in front of my computer, looking out my dining room window upon 60 inches of now blowing snow thanks to the Alberta Clipper coming through and wondering to myself, if I must shovel my driveway one more time, I might scream in frustration!  My routine while stuck at home during the blizzard was to shovel two or three times a day and to try and keep a runway to the road.  Each time I think to myself I have overcome the snow; the clouds drop six inches more.  Even with over-the-counter pain medication, my arms and back could not handle having to shovel another few inches let alone the foot the forecast threatens me.  I wonder what the use is in shoveling if more snow keeps dropping?

The strength in my arms has faded, now I know what Isaiah means when the flowers fade.  My motivation for a clean driveway withers, just like Isaiah’s grass when the breath of God blows upon it.  A voice says cry and Isaiah said cry what.  A voice says shovel and I say I am buying a snowblower.  Isaiah is speaking to people in exile in Babylon and buried under snow and melancholy I find Isaiah still speaking to us in exile in Siberia.  Commanded to speak and cry to the people and he didn’t have it in him.  Buried in an avalanche of snow and upheaval, we are commanded to prepare for the LORD’s coming and we don’t have it in us.  We wither and fade in faith because it feels like we shovel or prepare in vain to no effect; we clear the driveways of our hearts and something new drops in.  We clear a foot and creation drops two more.

I can understand Isaiah’s situation, but I can also appreciate the response of God.  Isaiah was in exile, and we find ourselves also in Babylon.  But the enormity of his and our surroundings, surrounded by idols and unfaithfulness, God reminds Isaiah and us, that while our strength and situations wither and fade, God’s strength and faithfulness stands forever.  Our existence is not an achievement in which we can put on the mantel, but a divine gift given precisely into our withering and fading hearts.  Spoken not into prosperity but into exile, which creates renewal.  Spoken not into abundance but into scarcity, which creates renewal.  Spoken not into energy and imagination, but into tiredness and staleness, which resurrects.  Since the Word of God stands forever, we don’t need to achieve it, we can, as finite creatures, open ourselves to receive it, and come to life again.

This is why Isaiah found the strength to comfort the people of God, because the strength of God finds him in his exhaustion.  And if God could find Isaiah and exodus him from his fatigue, God can do likewise with Israel from Babylon and God can do likewise with today’s church from Babylon.  Energy for our weariness.  Hope for our despair.  Peace for our polarized nation.  Joy for our misery.  Love for our malignities and nastiness.  Comfort ye my people, because God has come to exodus, or bring out his people from their exiles.

This is how we find the strength to prepare the road out of Babylon, because it isn’t ours, but the very power of our faithful God.  This is how the valleys could be filled in and the mountains shaved off, the crooked curves made straight, and the rough patches of asphalt smoothed out; because it isn’t really our work, it is really God’s work in God’s power, and it will never be in vain or empty.  But for it to be God’s work then something needs to change in us.  Perhaps instead of building a Christian Empire, we need to do the hard and vulnerable work of building the Kingdom of God.  Relationships and community instead of building and budgets.  Gratitude instead of envy.  Courage instead of fear.  Security instead of anxiety.  Love instead of hate.  Forgiveness instead of guilt.  That’s building the road out of Babylon.  Maybe that’s the work this Advent which needs done.

Friends, I am tired of shoveling snow, but I also think we are tired of witnessing Gospel.  Every time we make headway, we suffer setbacks and discouragements.  But Advent reminds us that we never labor in vain, because we labor under the gracious and loving work of the Word of God, who stands forever, even while our energy and commitment wither and fade.  So, find comfort in the faithfulness of God this Advent season, do a little road work in our hearts, but most importantly live as the new people that come into God’s Kingdom, because God has already come to us.  Advent means coming… maybe it is time for us to come back to God, again.  Amen.