“…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.”
-Isaiah 61.3

When I was a kid, when you saw a woman wearing all black or a man with a black armband, you knew: these people mourn a terrible loss in their lives. A former foster son of ours, Native American, once appeared with his luxurious black hair trimmed way back. He explained that he had lost a close relative, and this was a traditional sign of grieving. We know that our Mexican friends celebrate reunions with the departed on the Day of the Dead. Sometimes our culture helps us through that most difficult time of grief.

But sometimes it does not. It’s a common problem: what do we say to a friend in grief? Well, we are told often these days what not to say: “Here’s what you ought to do…” Oh, please no! Everyone grieves in their own way. Be a listener, affirm as valid the person’s real needs, be ready in your heart to pray.

As Christians, we trust passages like Isaiah’s as best as we can. We know we are called to expect healing, the oil of gladness instead of mourning. We may doubt that we will ever be whole again. But God wants to restore us, and God is patient. We need to be patient as well. It might be a longer walk than I am capable of now to get to be among the “oaks of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, to display his glory.” But God walks with me: it’s God’s road.

Almighty God, look with pity upon the sorrows of your servants. Remember them, Lord, in mercy, nourish them with patience, comfort them with a sense of your goodness, lift up your countenance upon them, and give them peace, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. (BCP p.467)
-Tom Worrell

“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…”
-Isaiah 61:1

According to Matthew Henry’s commentary, Jesus was “appointed and ordained … to be a preacher, a healer, a deliverer, a comforter, and a planter.” Talk about having the weight of the world on your shoulders. Often, we feel undereducated, underprepared, or under-equipped to measure up to Christ. “Why bother?” we might say. “We can’t effect change.”

At my college graduation, a well-known female national news broadcaster offered these words of advice: Crawl before you walk. At 22, I was incensed by her words. I was ready to take on the world! But her words are the bedrock toward effecting change. A cup of water here. A dollar there. A comment to a friend at just the right time. All the little ways we imitate Christ.

Through Christ, we can claim our power and mirror His calling by using our God-given talents to bring good news to the burdened or heal up the brokenhearted or help those captive to addiction or adultery or abuse or any other adversity.

The spirit of the Lord is indeed upon us, too.

Dear Lord: Help us to spread the good news, in small ways as well as large ways. With your help, we can do more than we imagine. Amen.

“He will feed his flock like a shepherd; he will gather the lambs in his arms, and carry them in his bosom, and gently lead the mother sheep.”-Isaiah 40:11

When I was a little girl, I stayed with my grandma Mary and my grandpa Daddy Chuck in their third-floor walk-up apartment in Chicago for two weeks every summer. Across the alley was a huge Baptist Church where I attended Vacation Bible School for a week. Do you remember the floppy felt biblical figures that were stuck to a felt scenery storyboard? Well, one of the stories was Jesus surrounded by a flock of sheep. I believed that picture and story literally well into my adulthood, no metaphor, just a guy in a long white gown, curly long brown hair holding a stick with sheep all around him, my mind at seven. Although I knew zip about sheep, I could see that Jesus was tender and loving to the animals and even carried a lamb gently in his arms and gazed lovingly into its eyes.

As I was reading numerous commentaries online to prepare and write this devotional, I discovered that there were other shepherds in the bible that I had forgotten or didn’t realize that they were shepherds.

Quoting C.H. Spurgeon, “Let us hear the shepherd’s voice. If you be the lambs, hear the shepherd’s voice which says, “Follow me”, you that are not lambs, Hear his voice”. Those of us who are His sheep, let us hear the shepherds.

Heavenly Father, we thank You for Your Word and the truth it contains. May we read, mark, learn and inwardly digest all that You would teach us and that we grow in grace and knowledge of You so that we may not be ashamed when we stand before Your Throne, in Jesus name, we pray. Amen.
-Mary Ann Taylor

“Get you up to a high mountain, O Zion, herald of good tidings; lift up your voice with strength, O Jerusalem, herald of good tidings, lift it up, do not fear; say to the cities of Judah, ‘Here is your God!'”
-Isaiah 40:9

I believe that one of the metrics of a life well-lived is the number of “Zion” moments you experience. They can come anytime, and they most always (in my experience, anyway) come as a surprise — “surprised by joy” if you will.

For me, the hallmark of a Zion moment is when I experience something so profound that I want to stop the world just long enough to look at it from as many angles as possible and determine its placement in the scrapbook of my life — the one I plan to thumb through before I move on past mortality. The title of my scrapbook, in big gold letters, is “Glimpses of God.”

Lord, thank you for leading me up the mountain whenever I’m covered in dust. The world you show me is proof of your majesty, and of the mystery that awaits us all beyond it. Amen.
-Michael Boss

“Then the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all people shall see it together, for the mouth of the Lord has spoken.
-Isaiah 40:5

I cannot read this passage without hearing the magnificent choral music of Handel’s Messiah bursting forth: “And the glory, the glory of the Lord shall be reveal-ed …” As wonderful as Rock and Roll may be to the masses (of we “Boomers”), nothing sets my soul to soaring like the rip-roaring choral production of Handel’s music. It is without peer. Period (no pun intended).

Advent is a dark and dreary season, what with short days, gray and drizzly skies, blustery winds sending the few remaining unraked leaves to dancing in the corner of the yard like manic pixies high on pixie juice, and holiday music to jangle the few remaining nerves of parents and their perpetually home-schooled broods.

I need the high tones of the classics to lift me up, out, and away from the drudgeries of a pandemic life. I need those rich and solemn tones to remind me there is a God away and beyond myself – a God who is NOT content to remain at arm’s length away, but who seeks the warmth and safety of my own belly during these scary, dark days.

The glory of the Lord shall be revealed. And the scary part? It will not just be revealed to us. No, I believe God intends God’s glory to be revealed in us and through us and around us so that the world itself may see it. Not just “some” of the world, but ALL people. I think I’d better get busy getting that manger ready!

Dear God, you want the world to see your glory. You want the world to see your glory revealed in the weakness of human flesh. I am so NOT worthy to carry this honor, but not my will, but THINE be done. God, help me. Amen.
-The Rev. Keith Axberg