Showing posts with label Sabbath. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sabbath. Show all posts

9.06.2021

THE SABBATH YEAR

Tomorrow is Rosh Hashanah and ushers in what is called the High Holidays of the Jewish Calendar. Rosh Hashanah is the Jewish New Year and leads into ten days of introspection, reflection, confession, and repentance. Those days, also called the “Days of Awe,” will lead into Yom Kippur (or the Day of Atonement). You can read more about these holidays (and others) here at Chabad or even watch my Festival Edition” playlist over on YouTube.

The High Holidays this year also usher in what is known as shmitah, or the Sabbath Year. Today, Rabbinic Judaism has ruled that Sabbath Year is directly connected to the land of Israel itself. Because of this, there are no requirements for Jews who live outside the land of Israel. It is, however, a fascinating study in the principles of Sabbath and what God desired His people experience in the land when they entered it thousands of years ago.

Impact Campus Ministries requires all full-time staff to take a sabbatical every seven years. For most of our staff, this looks like 100 days of what we call a “working sabbatical.” It is a paid time of planned, prepared engagement and accountability structures. It is not just 100 days of vacation, although we will often “unplug” from our usual communication (email, etc.) during this time. It is guided by objectives in our organization’s Policy and Procedures Manual and is a very intentional practice for our staff.

For me and my family, instead of engaging in that typical 100-day approach, we will be combining these same objectives with the principles and timeline of the biblical Sabbath Year. I look forward to sharing those notes with you over the year to come and inviting you into this unique sabbath space. I also look forward to sharing stories and prayer requests. There is so much to discuss and talk about!

For now, I simply want to invite you to this space and introduce these ideas. I will be using this blog space to keep a Sabbatical Journal during my experience and I invite you to follow along.



10.09.2018

A DAY IN THE LIFE: Sabbath & Personal Retreat Day

For a summary of what I’m hoping to accomplish in this blog series (in the second week of every month of 2018), I recommend reviewing my explanation here.


In this post for our DAY IN THE LIFE series, I take a look at something that should not have taken me ten months to write about, because it’s really where everything begins, not ends. It is not the byproduct or the result of the work I do elsewhere, it is the preparation for all of that other work. And yet, I waited until now to talk about it. Why? At least two reasons. First, the idea is horribly misunderstood by many and to start there would have been confusing for some. Second, because when I’m fully present in these moments, the last thing I’m thinking about is trying to shoot some video!

What am I talking about? I’m talking about SABBATH and PERSONAL RETREAT DAY (PRD).


SABBATH

For years, our family has made the Sabbath a non-negotiable priority. Now, before you read too much into that statement, you need to know that I’m not jumping across the table with a legalistic interpretation of Sabbath and what it is. Not at all. We have found a deeply compelling narrative in the practice of Sabbath and it’s become a fabric of our family life. Since this comes around once a week, no series on my daily life would be complete without it.

So what is it? Quite simply, it’s a day where we quit working and producing — no matter what the to-do list looks like. It’s a day of rest and of fun; it is a day that reminds us of what is most true about ourselves. It is not a day that comes AFTER a week of work; it is not a practice of recharging our batteries. No, this is a practice where we tell ourselves the truth about the world, about God, and about ourselves.

If you were to ask my children, “What do you do on the Sabbath?” they would tell you: “We rest. We play. No work. God loves us.” When I was trying to teach my children about Sabbath, I didn’t want to teach them a bunch of theology. I wanted them to understand something so simply that they could own it as a two-year-old. So we came up with that statement and it became a mantra for our family. First, we rest. Second, we play. One thing that isn’t allowed is work. And why do we do this? To remind ourselves that we are loved by God, not because of the work that we do, but simply because we are.

On these days, you’ll catch me sleeping in. You might see me enjoying the outdoors or spending time with the family. You might see me catching my favorite college team play ball or playing a video game. The one thing I will say is that I go through “Sabbath seasons.” Sometimes, I will need to spend time with my family and you’ll see me spending time with the family for a few months, but then that starts becoming a chore and it loses the ability to tell me the right story. So then I might go into a season where Sabbath is about my own self-care and doing things that I enjoy. But then that becomes selfish and starts to get in the way, so hunting season rolls around and I spend time in creation, close to the Creator.

Want to read more about Sabbath? There are incredible books out there by Heschel, Brueggemann, Bell, Winner, Sine… I wrote about it here and I talked about it here.


PERSONAL RETREAT DAY

So if you do Sabbath as a family, what is the PRD?

A PRD is a requirement for all staff at Impact Campus Ministries. Once a month, we are each supposed to take a paid work day and remove ourselves from the normal and usual workflow. It is a day for listening and changing our perspective. It’s different for everyone (for lots of different reasons), but the purpose is the same. We have come to talk about it in terms of a dance.

Imagine that ministry (or your job, whatever it might be) is a dance in a ballroom. You do a lot of things to make sure you are a good dancer. You study the art of dancing and you practice. You invest in your development as a dancer. But most of the time, you dance. You are engaged in the art of dancing. Tangibly, directly, immediately engaged.

But what do you think would happen if once a month, you stepped off the dance floor and joined God where He sits up in the balcony? Would the change of perspective be helpful? Not only would you enjoy rest and relief from stepping off the dance floor, but I imagine you would begin to see and notice things that you weren’t able to see when you were fully engrossed in the work of dancing. I would imagine you might be able to hear God’s voice a little more clearly when you are sitting next to Him in the balcony, versus being fully engaged in the work itself.

The balcony is certainly not where we are called to live; it is not the work we are called to. But it is important to the work that we are called to.

I made this short video to talk a little about my experiences on my own PRDs.



5.08.2018

A DAY IN THE LIFE: Family

For a summary of what I’m hoping to accomplish in this blog series (in the second week of every month of 2018), I recommend reviewing my explanation here.


I started my last post in this mini-series with a statement on discipleship: “It is the most meaningful work that I have done in over 17 years of ministry.”

Let me now write a post about the most meaningful thing I have ever done (and will ever do) with my life: family. I realized that I should have followed the February discussion on travel with this discussion on family. One of the most common questions I get about my travel schedule is about the impact on my family (and rightfully so).

I wish I could say I’ve always had the perspective that I mention above. Beyond simply giving lip service to the idea that “family is most important,” it is something that the weight of parenting and fatherhood continues to teach me. I also wish I could in any way imply that I’ve gotten really good at this whole “putting family first” thing, but rest assured — I cannot make such a claim.

But I can say that my recent change in vocational role and its accompanying demand on travel has become a gift. Because I am home less often, I am far more intentional about the times when I am home; I find I am much more present as a father and a husband these days. And here comes another wish: I wish it didn’t have to be that way. I wish I could be as intentional about my family time no matter what my schedule looks like. How frustrating that has been!

But about all that wishing. I find that parenting and husbanding (is that a word? [Editor’s note: Not yet.]) from a place of guilt, shame, and regret is simply exhausting. Our lives are full of “should haves” and “ought tos,” and I know that for most of us, those feelings hide most prominently in the world of family. (Can I get a witness?) I want to parent and husband from a place of overflow and freedom — a place of joy and wonder. So let’s resolve to leave all of those “I wish” statements where they belong… apparently right at the beginning of this post.

About intentionality with my wife. I have begun to learn how to ask questions about her needs and her perspectives. I’ve even learned how to ask those questions not just because I’m trying to “do my duty,” but because I really care about understanding how she feels. How has she felt about my travel? How does she see my efforts to parent? What does she see about my stress and energy levels? What does she dream about for our family and our marriage? I wish it hadn’t taken me almost a decade of marriage before I figured out how to do this well (and I still have so much further to go). Oops! There’s another one of those wishful statements!

About intentionality with my kids. When I’m home, one of the first things I do is schedule into my week two things: quality time with my kids (sometimes together, sometimes separately) and time to help coach them in their extra-curricular activities. While Becky carries this load when I’m gone, I think it’s really important to find time to be present as a dad in those areas of life. I want to hang with my kids to have special time to cuddle and do fun things. I also want to be there to encourage Zeke in Cub Scouts and guide Abigail through her pursuit of the violin.

I’ve found that this intentionality has given me things to celebrate, rather than simply wish for. And I’m grateful for that.

Here is a fun video diary of some of the things we got to do over the last few months:


3.27.2018

PULL UP A CHAIR: Stories on Model

For a summary of what I’m hoping to accomplish in this blog series (in the fourth week of every month of 2018), I recommend reviewing my explanation here.

You've heard and read me refer to Megan before; in my first few years of campus ministry, she was my first disciple and I learned more about discipleship in those few years than all of my other ministry experience to that point. Megan worked for ICM full-time before moving on to work in the non-profit world of homelessness and poverty. She, her husband Chris, and their son Josiah now reside in Raleigh, NC and Megan is currently serving as our chairperson for ICM. After talking about MODEL last weekI asked Megan to share what it was like to follow me around for that season of her life.


When I was first learning about the original context of discipleship, I was told this short anecdote of a rabbi and his disciples. “There once was a rabbi walking through the airport who was closely followed by his young disciples. The rabbi then walked into the bathroom, and the disciples followed. The rabbi then walked into a stall, and still his disciples followed!” This can be shocking for our typical American coffee-date discipleship, but this rabbinic style of discipleship is imitation with the purpose of becoming just like the rabbi.


I spent more than a year imitating Marty as closely as a female disciple could. I imitated Marty in the office, in the classroom, and at home. Practically, this means Marty crafted a schedule that included staff meetings, sermon club, spiritual disciplines, BEMA class, Sabbath, and more. I gained so much from the structure alone, but I believe the true discipleship experience started once we settled into the schedule and got comfortable living among each other.

Through my experience imitating Marty, I learned lessons about discipleship that completely transformed the way I engage my spirituality and Jesus.

I now believe a disciple is as capable of as much as the rabbi, and the rabbi sets the bar. When I first became Marty’s disciple, I thought I was just an intern. I know many people saw me that way, too. However, Marty didn’t. He required of me the same spiritual disciplines he required of himself (although, slightly less). He believed I could do more than I thought I could, and his belief didn’t waver. Together, we were able to establish discipline in me. I could write the Text! I could memorize!

A rabbi and a disciple must have a safe relationship to make mistakes and ask hard questions. I probably thought this beforehand, but now in the depth of the rabbinic discipleship context, it seems more crucial. Of course, I never made mistakes… (Editor’s note: Ha!) But assuming I did, there would have to be a safe space for me to reject religious shame and embrace Jesus. I do know I asked a lot of hard questions. Since we had a safe space for questions, I was able to wrestle with my community and God. That is the Text incarnate.

Discipleship inherently creates accountability as well. There is a certain expectation in the construct of rabbinic discipleship. For my discipleship experience, I was expecting Marty to be disciplined, dedicated to the Text, and supportive. I think he expected me to be faithful, available, and teachable. We both showed up in those ways because we had to be accountable to one another in order for the process to bring forth our desired results. If one of us did not fully show up, the discipleship experience could be a waste of time for both of us.

I believe discipleship transforms both the rabbi and the disciple. You cannot follow, nor be followed by, a person for a year and not learn profoundly from them. We experienced transformation on many occasions. The most memorable for me is in regard to my friendship with a recovering addict. My passion for the marginalized brought this friend into our community. It was a blessing for me and for Marty’s family to be able to love and support this new friend. However, Marty’s family was providing respite care for foster children at the time. Marty and I had to discuss legal boundaries and ways to protect everyone in our community. This transformed both of us because it forced us to have eyes that see, ears that hear, and hearts that understand multiple vulnerable populations.

I treasure most the walks and drives to campus. These were the moments when Marty was not on stage or in front of a classroom. It felt like it was on these walks and drives that our relationship grew from a rabbi and disciple, to friends and co-laborers. Eventually, he could be himself freely and process more than just Text with me. I can imagine the disciples experienced something similar with Jesus. And I am excited for the day when we get to share our rabbi pranks!

2.27.2018

PULL UP A CHAIR: Stories on Pursue

For a summary of what I’m hoping to accomplish in this blog series (in the fourth week of every month of 2018), I recommend reviewing my explanation here.

Lowell Kosak is the Director of Staff Development for Impact Campus Ministries; he lives in South Bend, IN with his wife Katie and two sons who are grown and on their own. Besides being a great personal friend, Lowell has a tremendous heart for spiritual health and our personal pursuits of God. His voice rings with passion for God and a care for His heart. I could think of nobody better to share stories about our discussion last week than Lowell.



I am inspired by Henri Nouwen. He compared his yearning to become more intimate with the Father to a trapeze performance. There is a special relationship between the flyer and the catcher. The daredevil flyer swinging high above the crowd lets go of the trapeze and simply stretches out his arms, waiting to feel the strong hands of the catcher pluck him out of the air. The flyer must never catch the catcher; he must wait in absolute trust. For Henri, and for me, there is a yearning to fly in the spiritual life, but only within relationship and yielding more and more into the loving hands of the Eternal Catcher.

More often than not, I am that flyer who is reaching out to try to catch.

God has recently been teaching me a lesson about my intimate pursuit of Him. Just one week before Christmas, my dear Katie suffered a mild stroke. We are so very thankful for God’s gift of grace that we were able to get to the hospital right away and that she suffered no brain bleeding or significant damage. While she is making a complete recovery, the time and extent of her therapy has been slower and more difficult than either of us had anticipated; not because it was medically unexpected—she is making great progress—but that we were not ready for the time, the slow down, and need to wait and be patient.

In just a short amount of time, I was ready to get back to it, to travel, to work, and to achieve. While I teach differently, that our identity does not flow from our accomplishments and production, I certainly was not living out my words. I was proceeding as if I was indispensable. May I confess to you that I like to think that I’m one step ahead of the game and close to arrival. But in reality, in reaching out to catch the Catcher, I’m not trusting God’s story for me. 

Of the importance of the pursuit for the spiritual leader, the vocational pastor… How can I announce joy, peace, forgiveness, and reconciliation unless they are part of my own flesh and blood?

How can I do this?

How can I know this?

I must have need of them and humbly admit my utter emptiness without them. I must surrender my life story to the Gospel, the story of God, and there he meets me.

So joy is birthed from the agony, disappointment, and sorrow that I feel.

True peace only comes when I am honest with myself and the rage and anxiety that comes from deep inside.

As I allow the Holy Spirit to open me up and expose my wretchedness, I also know Jesus’s forgiveness that he freely gives.

While I am so inadequate to take on the mantle of leadership, God reconciles me to Himself and sends me on a mission of bringing His peace and love into the world.

This prayer of Charles de Foucauld has become a prayer for me this year.
Father,I abandon myself into your hands;do with me what you will.Whatever you may do, I thank you:I am ready for all, I accept all.Let only your will be done in me,and in all your creatures –I wish no more than this, O Lord.Into your hands I commend my soul:I offer it to you with all the love of my heart,for I love you, Lord, and so need to give myself,to surrender myself into your hands without reserve,and with boundless confidence,for you are my Father.
I am learning to accept being expendable. I have to become not so important in my eyes that I can and will stop and rest. Sometimes we can’t help but stop in times of crisis, and in that, we have to be ok with the time to just release control and stop. But in day-to-day, week-to-week living, I must also learn to have regular rhythms of work and rest.

In Sabbath, I am letting go, I am waiting and trusting God to do the catching. As I stop, I only hear His voice that calls me His beloved and His son. Paul’s words in Romans ring in my ears:
“So you have not received a spirit that makes you fearful slaves. Instead, you received God’s Spirit when he adopted you as his own children. Now we call him, “Abba, Father.” For his Spirit joins with our spirit to affirm that we are God’s children. And since we are his children, we are his heirs. In fact, together with Christ we are heirs of God’s glory. But if we are to share his glory, we must also share his suffering.” (Romans 8:15–17 NLT)

10.10.2017

MY BLOG IN 2018: Week Two

I have been wanting to take some time each month this fall to share with you a little bit of what to expect on my blog in the coming year. Starting in January, I will begin a weekly rotation of blog themes that will drive the conversation in 2018. In the last post, I spoke of how I will be taking the first week of each month to share the Top 12 Blog Posts of Covered in His Dust. We’ll look back and see what posts have been used the most and I’ll enjoy speculating as to why they are the favorites.

The second week of my rotation will be dedicated to a series I’m going to call “A Day in the Life,” and it should be a collection of different things I do in my job each day. For many of my supporters, they have commented on how nice it’s been to see updates and the occasional video where they get to see what I do secondhand. It’s just one more way we can make our world a little smaller and I can invite you to see what it’s like to be a campus minister and/or President of Impact Campus Ministries.

Some examples of this might be the work I do with students or showing you some of the groups I teach here on the Palouse. I might do a post on discipleship and “take you on a walk” with one of my disciples. I might show you a meeting or two, such as those with the staff of ICM. I might introduce you to some of the staff at Real Life on the Palouse and talk about my partnership with the church there. And maybe I’ll even do a post on what I enjoy doing with my free time. There are so many things to invite you into!

None of these posts will be designed to be instructive or profound in any way — they’re just a fun trip into my day-to-day life where you get to see a little bit of things from my perspective. Of course, I’m sure there will be some cameo appearances from my family (they are who everyone really wants to see, I know) and we’ll have some fun.

So I look forward to inviting you into my life next year as we explore “A Day in the Life.”


9.08.2014

THE SILENT YEARS: Text!

As we begin to look at synagogue, we can learn a lot by studying the physical structure itself. Certainly one will need to realize that the components of this post are not universally found in each and every situation. Each synagogue that the world of archaeology uncovers seems to be unique and challenges different assumptions that we make about synagogue as a whole, but we can take a look at what we’ve found and draw relatively safe general conclusions. In other words, to say that EVERY synagogue matches the description below would be incorrect; but to say that the following description gives us an understanding of the world of first-century synagogue would be far more accurate.

When I teach my students about synagogue in the first century, I always teach them that synagogue has seven main parts:

 1. Mikveh: Before entering the space of worship, it was important for the worshipper to make sure that they were spiritually prepared. This meant a ceremonial washing that would invite God to cleanse their minds (thoughts), hearts (desires), hands (actions), and feet (walk). Outside of most synagogues, you would find a Jewish baptismal — otherwise known as mikveh.

2. Basilica: As you enter the synagogue, you would notice the pillars that run along the inside of the structure, supporting a raised central roof. This arrangement of pillars makes up the basilica. Not possessing the technology to span large distances in their architecture, the people were often forced to support the roof internally. An opening in the roof also allowed you to “read the Light (Torah) with God’s light (the sun).”

3. Chief Seats: Reserved for the elderly of the community, the chief seats were the place of honor. (Everyone else sat on the stone/dirt floor.) Jesus told his disciples never to seek out the chief seats, but always practice service and humility.

4. Bema: There was a slightly raised platform in the center of the synagogue where the Text was read from known as the bema. It is important to note that the bema stood in the center of the room; this made a statement about the Text in the life of the community. The community comes and gathers around the Text and it is central to their worship. As the world is westernized, the bema will move closer and closer to the “front” of the room and act more like a stage with an audience. No longer is it a community gathered around, but an audience coming to watch.

5. Moses Seat:
The Torah reader for that morning would sit in the Moses Seat. Notice, as well, that there are no clergy in synagogue. A rabbi plays no special role in worship. Synagogue is about the community and the Text; everybody takes a turn reading from Torah. Furthermore, there is very little by way of a “sermon.” There is what’s called a derashah, but that is a 60- to 90-second statement of what the Text means to you. In our culture, we read the text for two minutes and talk about it for thirty minutes. In their world, you read the Text for thirty minutes and talk about it for two.

6. Torah Closet: The scrolls are kept in the Torah Closet. Very rarely would a village own the entire Torah, and definitely not the whole Tanakh, but your village might have the scrolls of Exodus, Jeremiah, and Esther, plus a portion of Isaiah. The neighboring village might have Deuteronomy, Judges, and Daniel. You get the idea. So how in the world did you know your Text? We’ll cover that in a moment.

7. Study Room:
There was often a room adjoining the main synagogue where the community’s education would take place, known as the Study Room.


Before we move on, it’s worth noting that even in the construction of the building, the message is clear: The people of the Galilee returned from Babylon with a renewed passion and vigor for the Text. They had decided that if God punished them for not following His ways, then one of the main problems was that they hadn’t KNOWN His ways (remember, there was no printing press). They committed themselves to making sure that they would never again be found ignorant of God’s Word.

And so they came back with synagogue.

But that synagogue also came with an education system that the world of Judaism had never seen.

** To be sure, history is hard to decipher and the records are slim and spotty at best. How the “system” operated and the dates surrounding when everything took place are hotly debated topics. If I’m allowed to use the writings of the New Testament as evidence, it becomes much easier to piece history together; please realize that most scholarship does not allow the use of New Testament writings as evidence, so much of what I am drawing together will be debated. This is the “minimalist/maximalist” debate in history. I have pulled much of my information from the teachings of Ray Vander Laan and Rob Bell and continue to seek information from other sources. I have much work to do in this department.


BET SEFER: Ancient Jewish schooling started around the age of five, when children began attending bet sefer. During what we would call “elementary years,” the students were taught basic education through the lens of the Text. For example, math would be taught through elements of the Text: “The Tablets of Moses, plus the Books of Moses, equals the days of creation.” However, the main task of these young students was to commit the Books of Moses to memory. When I say “to memory” you may be wondering how serious I am about this claim. Realize that without the printing press, and without a copy of the Tanakh in your village, a remnant committed to knowing their Text will need to have that Text memorized.

BET TALMUD:
The meager historical reports do not allow us to draw distinct lines around exactly how the next two stages work. There is much debate about which stage came first, what it entailed, and whether they were two separate stages or not. The process, however, seems to be relatively clear. The next stage of Jewish learning was reserved for only the best of those coming out of bet sefer. Most estimates I’ve heard of put less than 10% of the student population moving on, somewhere around the age of 10. Only the best students were invited to progress to this stage. Again, education would progress through the lens of Text, but this stage was even more strenuous, with the expectation being the student would memorize the entirety of the Tanakh. That is, the entire Old Testament, committed to memory.

BET MIDRASH: Finally, the best of the best would apply to follow a rabbi (which, before the destruction of the Temple, was an unofficial term that simply meant “teacher”). If the rabbi thought that the student had what it took to become just like himself in his walk with God, he would utter the rabbinical call: Lech achari (“Come, follow me”). We are now talking about less than 1% of the student population and most scholars estimate there were no more than 100 talmidim (or disciples) in the first century. We do not know of more than five rabbis in the first century, most of whom had no more than two or three disciples. Assuming that there were more we do not know of, it still doesn’t leave room for many more talmidim.

Take a moment to realize the level of commitment that was held by this Jewish remnant to learning and knowing their Text. Not only this, but the rabbinical method was central to teaching the people of God how to LIVE the Text out. The call to follow the rabbi was a call to mimic his every move. It was a way of training up leaders that would guide the people of God — as shepherds lead a flock — in the paths of righteousness.

You see, without an understanding of this post-captivity Judaism with its unbelievable commitment to Text, we miss so much about the world Jesus is born into. It’s not just the Judaism of the Old Testament; quite to the contrary, it’s a new Judaism with a profound commitment to walking in obedience.

They have become a people of the Text.

7.03.2014

3 ISAIAH: the Hope

We now come to last prophetic voice in the Exilic time period. It is the voice of 3 Isaiah and I will refer to this voice as spanning the chapters of 40 through 66. Many reputable scholars (people like Walter Brueggemann, for example) would refer to these chapters as two voices, 3 Isaiah (40-54) and 4 Isaiah (55-66). I find this argument to be intriguing and I can easily see what they are looking at in such an evaluation, but for the sake of this conversation, I’ll keep this portion as a singular voice in the Exilic time period.

This voice of Isaiah comes to announce hope to the exiled people of Judah. In a sense, one could say that the hope of 3 Isaiah comes in the form of encouraging God’s people in their active participation and partnership with God in their rescue. Much of the initial conversation of 3 Isaiah centers around the “servant” figure that is found referenced numerous times. Many of us are familiar with chapter 53, which we have often deemed the “Suffering Servant” chapter in connection to Jesus. While I don’t seek to take any of the significance away from it’s obvious Jesus connections, we often miss the larger context of the references to this suffering servant.

The servant is talked about many times in the Text preceding chapter 53. Its references and connections in these passages unmistakably point to the people of Judah in exile.

Isaiah 41:
But you, Israel, my servant,
    Jacob, whom I have chosen,

    you descendants of Abraham my friend,
I took you from the ends of the earth,
    from its farthest corners I called you.
I said, ‘You are my servant’;
    I have chosen you and have not rejected you.
So do not fear, for I am with you;
    do not be dismayed, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you and help you;
    I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”

Isaiah 43:
Lead out those who have eyes but are blind,
    who have ears but are deaf.
All the nations gather together
    and the peoples assemble.
Which of their gods foretold this
    and proclaimed to us the former things?
Let them bring in their witnesses to prove they were right,
    so that others may hear and say, “It is true.”
“You are my witnesses,” declares the Lord,
    “and my servant whom I have chosen,

so that you may know and believe me
    and understand that I am he.
Before me no god was formed,
    nor will there be one after me.”

Isaiah 44:
“But now listen, Jacob, my servant,
    Israel, whom I have chosen.
This is what the Lord says—
    he who made you, who formed you in the womb,
    and who will help you:
Do not be afraid, Jacob, my servant,
    Jeshurun, whom I have chosen.”

We could keep going, on and on, but the point would clearly be the same. The primary image of the servant in 3 Isaiah is the suffering, exiled people of God. Now, again, let me reiterate that I am not trying to take away from the prophetic allusions or implications of Jesus’ own fulfillment of this passage; however, when Christian readers read the closing chapters of Isaiah, we almost always miss the point of the prophecy entirely. Isaiah is trying to speak to the people about how they will actively engage this empire and experience the rescue of God. The restoration of all things will come about through hardship and suffering. However, if they will be willing to be the chosen servant of God, then through their suffering will rise a new day and a new era of God’s kingdom of shalom.

If they can overcome — if they can endure — they will see a new world burst forth in the midst of the one they currently reside in. Feel the shift take place in chapter 55:
“Come, all you who are thirsty,
    come to the waters;
and you who have no money,
    come, buy and eat!
Come, buy wine and milk
    without money and without cost.
Why spend money on what is not bread,
    and your labor on what does not satisfy?
Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good,
    and you will delight in the richest of fare.
Give ear and come to me;
    listen, that you may live.
I will make an everlasting covenant with you,
    my faithful love promised to David.”

Read the whole chapter; it’s an incredible piece of literature. It is difficult for us as Western, American Christians to resonate with much of the Scripture. Generally speaking, the Bible is a book written by an oppressed people, to an oppressed people, about living in a world of oppression. It is difficult to hear and understand the words of 3 Isaiah when our toughest decision for the day will often be where to go for lunch and our spiritual life revolves around “spiritual” wine and milk that we can buy without cost.

In fact, 3 Isaiah is quite resolute in dealing with matters of real bread and milk. In a brilliant move, the author of 3 Isaiah brings us full circle to the discussion that started this prophetic search in the first place: justice. The very things that were critiqued in the first prophetic voice of Isaiah are what they are told to remember, to return to, and never abandon. Chapter 58 of Isaiah is one of my favorite in the Tanakh:
“Shout it aloud, do not hold back.
    Raise your voice like a trumpet.
Declare to my people their rebellion
    and to the descendants of Jacob their sins.
For day after day they seek me out;
    they seem eager to know my ways,
as if they were a nation that does what is right
    and has not forsaken the commands of its God.
They ask me for just decisions
    and seem eager for God to come near them.
‘Why have we fasted,’ they say,
    ‘and you have not seen it?
Why have we humbled ourselves,
    and you have not noticed?’

“Yet on the day of your fasting, you do as you please
    and exploit all your workers.
Your fasting ends in quarreling and strife,
    and in striking each other with wicked fists.
You cannot fast as you do today
    and expect your voice to be heard on high.
Is this the kind of fast I have chosen,
    only a day for people to humble themselves?
Is it only for bowing one’s head like a reed
    and for lying in sackcloth and ashes?
Is that what you call a fast,
    a day acceptable to the Lord?

“Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen:
to loose the chains of injustice
    and untie the cords of the yoke,
to set the oppressed free
    and break every yoke?
Is it not to share your food with the hungry
    and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter—
when you see the naked, to clothe them,
    and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood?
Then your light will break forth like the dawn,
    and your healing will quickly appear;
then your righteousness will go before you,
    and the glory of the Lord will be your rear guard.
Then you will call, and the Lord will answer;
    you will cry for help, and he will say: Here am I.


“If you do away with the yoke of oppression,
    with the pointing finger and malicious talk,
and if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry
    and satisfy the needs of the oppressed,
then your light will rise in the darkness,
    and your night will become like the noonday.
The Lord will guide you always;
    he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land
    and will strengthen your frame.
You will be like a well-watered garden,
    like a spring whose waters never fail.
Your people will rebuild the ancient ruins
    and will raise up the age-old foundations;
you will be called Repairer of Broken Walls,
    Restorer of Streets with Dwellings.

The Repairer of Broken Walls?

Is the image of the vineyard still seared in your mind from 1 Isaiah? The prophecy that God would tear down the walls of His vineyard? Apparently, that prophecy had an open end to it; apparently, God’s people have a part to play in helping to restore what has been broken down. They will be called Repairers of Broken Walls.

But how will they do this? How could one possibly overcome such adversity? How could they sit in the midst of exile and be people of optimistic justice and hope that greed and oppression don’t get the last word?

They will have to be people who trust the story. They will have to be people who know when to say enough. They will have to be people who trust that they have everything they need and realize that they…

No. Wait.

WE will have to be people who trust the story. WE will have to be people who know when to say enough. WE will have to be people who trust that WE have everything WE need and realize that WE are free to lay down OUR lives for the sake of other people 

We will have to be people of Sabbath.

The verses that immediately follow in chapter 58 come as a complete surprise. Unless we understand this narrative of God as an invitation to trust the story, we will continue to wonder what those verses have to say about justice.
“If you keep your feet from breaking the Sabbath
    and from doing as you please on my holy day,
if you call the Sabbath a delight
    and the Lord’s holy day honorable,
and if you honor it by not going your own way
    and not doing as you please or speaking idle words,
then you will find your joy in the Lord,
    and I will cause you to ride in triumph on the heights of the land
    and to feast on the inheritance of your father Jacob.”
For the mouth of the Lord has spoken.

It’s like we’ve come all the way back to Genesis 1 — as if a proper understanding of where the story begins is the key to unlocking a willingness to partner with God in restoring the world.

God’s still looking for partners. God’s still choosing servants.
“Here is my servant, whom I uphold,
    my chosen one in whom I delight;
I will put my Spirit on him,
    and he will bring justice to the nations.
He will not shout or cry out,
    or raise his voice in the streets.
A bruised reed he will not break,
    and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out.
In faithfulness he will bring forth justice;
    he will not falter or be discouraged
till he establishes justice on earth.
    In his teaching the islands will put their hope.”