Though it was not a Sunday and the church was not open, the grieving widow called the pastor, asking if he would open the church for her.  She needed comfort.  There in the church, in the sanctuary, she knew she would find it.  That’s part of why we come, isn’t it, for comfort?  Part of the reason we open the Bible, fingers following our heart, seeking words of comfort.  The Bible has them.  God speaks them.  There is that in the Bible that can seem harsh, that may even leave us feeling deprived of comfort.  God’s Word promises us this: anyone whose deepest need is for God, who knows he or she can be truly, fully satisfied only in and by God—God will comfort that one.  For that one God has tender words of comfort and joy.

          A little after what I read, Isaiah speaks of Immanuel, saying, “A bruised reed he will not break, / and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out” (Is 42:3).  Jesus does not come to us rough, harsh.  He sees our wounds, our bruises, our fractures; he handles us gently, binding up our wounds, splinting us, applying the medicine of his perfect, powerful grace: God’s love for all, especially those knowing their deepest need is for God.  Jesus, by the Spirit, rekindles the smoking wick, applying his fire, back to light, back to life.  He does not come to break or extinguish.  He comes to help, to heal, to guide, to save.

          Through Isaiah, God says our term of servitude, of bondage, is over (40:2).  Freedom!  Such freedom has meaning, power, and effect for those who perceive they were bound.  Those who don’t perceive the marks of their chains don’t seek comfort from God.  Why would they?  Our sin has been paid for fully (40:2).  Don’t let that leave you cold!  The deep, crippling debt we were in wasn’t simply canceled, as though someone just drew a line through it and that was that.  Our debts have been paid, fully, in Jesus Christ: his death in exchange for our lives.  Accomplished, available, comfort—the power, grace, and love of God for you, of all people.  But, really, all this talk of crippling debt, and all this talk of sin—isn’t it just a bit old-fashioned, and judgmental?

          “In the wilderness prepare the way for the Lord” (40:3).  Drive north along Highway 36, and it won’t be long before you see a way being prepared.  It’s not exactly wilderness; it is work, though: a big project.  This is work to which God calls us, disciplined work in the wilderness of this world: work for comfort in the wilderness of human hearts and in our own muddy, stony hearts, tangled with the debris of things that have happened to us and things we have done.

          My son Nicholas has been into trains, lately.  He’s found that he can’t make the curves on his tracks too sharp or his train derails.  A straight way is best.  Have you ever had the itch to see just how fast your vehicle can go?  Did you?  If you did, or only thought about it, it probably wasn’t on a winding, curvy stretch of road.  It was on a long, straight stretch.  We can see farther, go faster, feel safer on a straight road.  Let’s do the work upon ourselves of preparing such a road for God: our way to God and God’s way to us.  He has the power to overcome every obstacle—your faith is just one proof of this holy power.  He gives us the tools for the work.

          “Every valley shall be raised up, every mountain and hill made low” (40:4).  Jesus says, “those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted” (Mt 23:12).  God is at work with us, in us, as we work on the way between us.  Those who think a little too highly of themselves—God will turn their eyes toward Him; those who feel like a bruised reed or a smoldering wick will be lifted, tenderly, and made to know their worth in God’s eyes, God’s heart.  I’m not sure that humility comes naturally to anyone.  It’s not lack of pride.  Humility is quiet confidence in God.  Humility is pride, in God.  It is God-exalting and exalts God’s Word.

          The work being done on Highway 35 is a bit of an inconvenience, but I like the results.  The work of expanding Highway 36 is a bother.  It looks like a mess: the work is making things rougher than they were!  As the work continues, though, you begin to see the shape of the new road: the surveying, then the clearing, then the ground being leveled, graded, compacted, prepared.  Where there had been no road, where there was just the mess of bulldozed stumps, standing water, and mud, suddenly a way begins to emerge.  The workers are at work; the Lord makes the way.  Have we not seen?  Have we not heard?  The Lord acts on behalf of those who wait for Him, doing things that we did not expect.

          Perhaps this is part of what Isaiah means when he sings that “the glory of the Lord will be revealed, and all people will see it” (40:5).  I can’t help but hear Handel’s music.  What is the glory of the Lord?  Jesus Christ, certainly.  The salvation Jesus wins for us, paying in full our crippling debts, setting us free for joyful living and fulfilling work.  This is work that exalts God, that magnifies, that lights the way to God, so that dim eyes can see and hope.  If you’re not living to rejoice in God, for what, then, are you living?  This joyful, fulfilling, difficult work on preparing the way is ongoing work, first in our own lives, also in the lives of others, in the life of this roughed up world, this wise, enlightened world that understands sin as little as it understands love, that understands pride as little as it understands humility.

          Many are not seeing the glory.  Many don’t want to, though some do.  What does God want?  He wants to comfort.  He sent Jesus.  He sends the Spirit.  He opens His Word to those who know their deepest need is for God.  He exalts those who exalt God.  With Jesus in the Temple for his circumcision, the young parents encountered an old man, a holy man, sensitive to God, alert for God’s Word.  He came to them, took the baby in his arms, blessed them, and told the wide-eyed couple: “This child is destined to cause the falling and rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be spoken against, so that the thoughts of many hearts will be revealed” (Lk 2:34-35).  Jesus comes for salvation; he comes also for revelation.  Valleys will be raised up.  Hills will be made low.  Those who seek the comfort of God will be comforted.  And those who don’t?  The thoughts of their hearts will also be revealed; at what are we aiming our lives?  What is our highest, best goal?

          How do we know, for sure, that God will comfort?  How can we trust, believe?  Isn’t the world better?  It’s messed up, sure, but we can see the world, touch the world.  Who has seen God?  Isaiah tells us, “the mouth of the LORD has spoken” (40:5).  What is spoken from the mouth of the LORD?  His Word, His breath.  The Word of life, the breath of life.  By His breath, God gives you life, here, now, on this earth.  By His Word, God makes you alive for eternal joy: the unending life He has prepared for you.  Prepare ye the way of the Lord.  “[T]he word of our God endures forever” (40:8).  It is reliable, trustworthy.  What has been promised shall be fulfilled.  You can bank on it.  You can build a life on it.  You can also walk away.

          God’s Word invites response, awaits response: “shout the good news from the high mountain” (40:9).  There’s our response: go, tell it on the mountain.  Grace-gladdened hearts sing from high places.  The song doesn’t have to be loud: people hear joy far more quickly than shouting.  Let others hear your joy.  God “comes with power [. . . .] His reward is with Him” (40:10).  He holds His own “close to His heart” (40:11).  There is comfort, safe in the arms of Jesus: secure, strong, the aroma of the woodshop, the lake, the mountains, the fragrance of heaven.

          We hold this bread and this cup.  We find him in our hands; we hold his grace, his promise.  You’ll hold the sign of the gift he gives, the gift of his sinless life, his perfect and perfectly beautiful faith, his eternal, unbroken unity with the Father and the Spirit.  Here, we can hold this gift close to our hearts.  The joy and the peace of it is that, as we hold in faith, Jesus Christ also is holding us close to his heart; he leads us, gently, as he prepares the way.  Such comfort, here!  O that today you would know your need for God, know it the way God knows His love for you.

          Now, to the One who by the power at work within us is able to do far more abundantly than all we can ask or imagine, to God be glory in the Church and in Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever.