I don’t know about you, but I like to be comfortable. After a cold walk out to the barn, I love to change into flannel pants and a cozy sweatshirt.
We speak of comfort a lot---when someone seems really self-assured we say, “They’re so comfortable in their own skin.” Or when we eat a big old pot roast, or make a nice steaming stew, we call it comfort food.
This morning Isaiah is expressing a common refrain---we like to be comfortable…we long to be comfortable.
The Israelites have just come out of exile; returning to the land their parents and grandparents had been forced to leave behind. A land the current generation had never lived in. For them, “home” was simply a fantasy, a place where problems never existed, where, if they could just get back, everything would be fine.
I know the feeling. How many of us have said, “everything will be ok, just as soon as I make a little more money, or just as soon as the kids get a bit older, or as soon as my parent’s health problems stabilize, or as soon as my boss gives me a break.”
The Israelites thought, “everything will be ok, once we get home.”
But Isaiah is saying that while returning home was certainly soothing, it wouldn’t provide the comfort the Israelites longed for…because…
Only God can do that.
There’s only one source of true comfort: God.
We mistake all sorts of things for comfort. Often, what we think is comforting is, simply, soothing.
And soothing is qualitatively different than comforting.
To soothe is to alleviate, placate, relieve.
To comfort is to give strength and hope even in the most challenging of circumstances.
Soothing is temporary. Comfort is forever.
Now, there’s nothing wrong with being soothed---there’s an awful lot of discomfort in our daily lives which is alleviated through soothing….and, even though when the soothing ends the discomfort returns, that little respite gives us the energy to fight through the disappointments and worries of daily life.
But, sometimes really bad things happen to us: Death, illness, abuse, heartbreak and hopelessness. Things that make us feel fragile, vulnerable, at risk. When that happens, we don’t need soothing, we need comfort.
As most of you know, a month ago I lost my wife to cancer. What gives more comfort than anything else in these dark days are those who’ve responded with cursing, laments and tears. I find this reaction honest and true. What really drives me nuts are those people who say, “oh you’ll be fine, every day will get easier.” Now, I know they’re just trying to soothe me…to give me a little relief…but I don’t want soothing I don’t want distraction. I CAN’T be distracted. Because-- and those of you who’ve dealt with deep hurt, fear and heartache know what I mean--when experiencing such gut-wrenching, life-changing events, nothing distracts. You never forget what you’re going through. You can’t.
Soothing may distract, but it does not comfort. And comfort is what I long for.
Comfort is what I find through tears and laments. Because when I fall apart, when I lose control, I am letting go and letting God. I’m making room for God’s comfort to envelope me.
Isaiah knew that only by letting go of control, of the “what ifs”, the “if onlys,” the “whens” and the “one days,” do we allow God room to comfort us.
Today I’m reminded of an inescapable reality—our resilience, our faith, our strength, our hope will, at times, wither and fade…at times life can just become TOO MUCH for us. And that’s ok.
Because we have God.
And God’s comfort is the one thing that will NEVER wither or fade.
As our life unfolds, things happen: our paths get crooked, our valleys deepen, the mountains of despair grow higher and our spirit? It suffers. Soothing may take our mind off of the bumpy road, the deep valleys and the treacherous mountains of life, but when the soothing ends—and soothing always ends—we’re left with the crooked, the deep and the tall troubles of life. But when we focus on comfort, when we diligently and deliberately seek comfort in our lives, the road will straighten, the valley will rise, the mountains will lower and our spirit will renew.
So, my friends, focus not on what soothes, but rather focus on the One who comforts.
Advent is a time to prepare for the coming of the Great Comforter, to ready ourselves for accepting the presence of God in our very lives and into our very beings. It’s a time when we accept that life is not always easy, and that fixes are not always quick. It’s a time when we accept that soothing, while less risky to pursue will, in time, wither and fade. It’s a time when we, each and every one of us, must prepare ourselves to accept the greatest comfort God has ever given us: a baby, wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger. +
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