Sunday, August 2
Isaiah 6:1-8

In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord sitting on a throne, high and lofty; and the hem of his robe filled the temple. Seraphs were in attendance above him; each had six wings: with two they covered their faces, and with two they covered their feet, and with two they flew. And one called to another and said: “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory.” The pivots on the thresholds shook at the voices of those who called, and the house filled with smoke. And I said: “Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips; yet my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts!” Then one of the seraphs flew to me, holding a live coal that had been taken from the altar with a pair of tongs. The seraph touched my mouth with it and said: “Now that this has touched your lips, your guilt has departed and your sin is blotted out.” Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, “Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?” And I said, “Here am I; send me!”

The devotions this week are based on passages from the book of Isaiah. It is one of my favorite books of the Bible, and I have chosen some of my favorite passages from it. In this passage, we read about the call of Isaiah, a self-proclaimed “man of unclean lips” who lived among a “people of unclean lips.” Let’s face it, when God chooses people to serve, there is no pool of perfect people to choose from. Isaiah was only acknowledging what is true for all of us—that we are so full of sin that we are unworthy to bear God’s holy Word to the world. And yet Isaiah did it very well. In passage after passage, we find not just messages for God’s people, but messages contained within beautiful poetry. This would be impossible if not for God’s hand in the process. God sent messengers to burn away the impurity of sin from his lips and make Isaiah clean for God’s service. Likewise, when God chooses us for mission, we are given everything we need to do God’s work. We can run from God’s call, and we can make excuses for our reluctance to serve, but in the end there’s really only one viable answer when God asks, “Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?” That answer is, “Here am I; send me!”

Prayer: Lord, you call us and equip us for your service in your Kingdom. Help us to see that we are more than capable and ready to serve. Amen.

Monday, August 3
Isaiah 9:2-6

The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness—on them light has shined. You have multiplied the nation, you have increased its joy; they rejoice before you as with joy at the harvest, as people exult when dividing plunder. For the yoke of their burden, and the bar across their shoulders, the rod of their oppressor, you have broken as on the day of Midian. For all the boots of the tramping warriors and all the garments rolled in blood shall be burned as fuel for the fire. For a child has been born for us, a son given to us; authority rests upon his shoulders; and he is named Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

I had never walked in darkness like I did the first time I walked alone at night through the woods at Fortune Lake Lutheran Camp. I walked down the hill from “Vagabond Land,” where the campers sleep in tents and cook their meals over open fire, to the Emmanuel Lodge, where guests stay in very comfortable rooms with queen size beds that resemble nice hotel rooms. In between those two areas are dark woods where it is hard to see the way even with a bright flashlight. The darkness is barely held at bay by the light of your flashlight. The woods are quiet, but in the darkness you can hear sounds—coyotes yipping and wolves howling in the distance, the occasional snap of a twig from some creature moving in the dark, the echo of every little noise you make in the woods. It is easy to let your mind wander into places where you feel you are in more danger than you really are. When you come into the main camp, with lights on the buildings, and then step into the brightly lit hallways of the Lodge, the relief comes flooding in. We walk through darkness in life. We know about the scary things that go on in our minds, in our hearts, in our lives—things that we can barely, if even, keep at bay. The light of Christ’s forgiveness, however, comes flooding into our lives. It doesn’t always stop the thoughts, words and deeds, but it brings light to our dark souls and the relief comes flooding in. Whatever darkness we travel through in life, the light of Christ’s love is always waiting for us at the end of our journeys.

Prayer: Lord, your people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness—on them light has shined. Always remind us of the light of your love, that we may dance with joy, bathed in that light. Amen.

Tuesday, August 4
Isaiah 11:1-6

A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse, and a branch shall grow out of his roots. The spirit of the Lord shall rest on him, the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord. His delight shall be in the fear of the Lord. He shall not judge by what his eyes see, or decide by what his ears hear; but with righteousness he shall judge the poor, and decide with equity for the meek of the earth; he shall strike the earth with the rod of his mouth, and with the breath of his lips he shall kill the wicked. Righteousness shall be the belt around his waist, and faithfulness the belt around his loins. The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them.

I was at the DeYoung Family Zoo in Wallace, MI last summer and saw something from a perspective that the individuals involved didn’t see. I was at the top of a path and saw a young woman walking a baby tiger on a leash—it had the characteristic round ears, large head and oversized paws of a baby, but it must have been 40 pounds already—an animal that could do some damage to a smaller creature. The tiger kept pulling away to the right, and the zookeeper was pulling back on the leash—struggling to keep it near her. What she didn’t see, because it was blocked from her direct line of sight, was a group of people standing in a circle talking. Roaming around outside the circle was a toddler—probably no more that 25 pounds—stumbling around on the unsure legs of one just learning to walk and run. What the tiger saw was a good meal—a young creature separated from the rest of the herd—easy prey. The good news is that the zookeeper kept to her task and the tiger was led down the path to a tent where larger, less tempting children awaited with a nice bottle of milk for the cub. The cub was obviously not weaned, probably not much of a meat eater yet, but the hunting instincts were already there. It is not natural for the wolf to live with the lamb, for the leopard to lie down with the kid, or for the calf and the lion and the fatling to peacefully coexist. Unfortunately, it’s not natural for humans either. We always live in conflict. Imagine a world where people live in peace—where the Americans and the North Koreans eat together, where the Jews and the Arabs play soccer on a field without walls, where the Muslims and the Hindus live like brothers, where Black and White are seen as complimentary colors, not as contrasting. Imagine living in a world like that, side by side with our enemies, with the love and trust of a little child. This is our future when the Prince of Peace comes again to bring his people home. It’s against every instinct we have, to live in peace, but it becomes our way of life as we grow in faith as children of God.

Prayer: Lamb of God, you take away the sin of the world. Grant us peace. Grant us peace. Amen.

Wednesday, August 5
Isaiah 40:1-11

Comfort, O comfort my people, says your God. Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and cry to her that she has served her term, that her penalty is paid, that she has received from the Lord’s hand double for all her sins. A voice cries out: “In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God. 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. Then the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all people shall see it together, for the mouth of the Lord has spoken.” A voice says, “Cry out!” And I said, “What shall I cry?” All people are grass, their constancy is like the flower of the field. The grass withers, the flower fades, when the breath of the Lord blows upon it; surely the people are grass. The grass withers, the flower fades; but the word of our God will stand forever. 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!” See, the Lord God comes with might, and his arm rules for him; his reward is with him, and his recompense before him. 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.

This is one of my favorite passages of scripture. I remember the first time I really paid any attention to it. I was in Professor Ralph Klein’s “Israel’s Prophet’s” class at seminary. I remember Prof. Klein talking about this passage being a prophecy of hope—that not only will God bring us home, but he will make it so that nobody is left out. It will be like building a superhighway that leads to the New Jerusalem—our heavenly home. The valleys will be lifted up, the mountains flattened down, the crooked roads will be straightened out, and it will be safe and easy traveling for all God’s people. I remember moving from the seminary to my first call in Pottstown, PA. A friend recommended I drive across Interstate 80 in Pennsylvania, instead of taking I-76—the Pennsylvania Turnpike. It was a smoother road, without the constant driving up and down over the hilly terrain. But when it came time to leave the interstate and head south, it became a nightmare. I was driving a rental truck loaded with all of our belongings and towing our car on a trailer. The route we chose went through the mountains of the coal country, through towns like Shamokin, PA. The hills were so steep, I had to gun the engine and speed up at the bottom in order to be able to make it to the top. Then I had to literally stand on the brake pedal to keep the truck going a safe speed on the way down. The brake pads would be smoking by the time we reached the bottom. It was not a nice ride. But I imagine if someone had blasted a nice flat route through those mountains, the ride would have been great. This is what God promises to do—to make the way smooth, straight and flat from every corner of the earth to his home, where he will gather us in like a mother sheep gathers her lambs.

Prayer: Lord, in this life where so much of what we do involves struggling and pushing forward toward our goals, we thank you for your promise of a safe and easy homecoming for your people. Amen.

Thursday, August 6
Isaiah 52:7-10

How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of the messenger who announces peace, who brings good news, who announces salvation, who says to Zion, “Your God reigns.” Listen! Your sentinels lift up their voices, together they sing for joy; for in plain sight they see the return of the Lord to Zion. Break forth together into singing, you ruins of Jerusalem; for the Lord has comforted his people, he has redeemed Jerusalem. The Lord has bared his holy arm before the eyes of all the nations; and all the ends of the earth shall see the salvation of our God.

This is the passage Bishop Roy Almquist chose for his sermon text at my ordination 15 years ago. “How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of the messenger who announces peace, who brings good news, who announces salvation, who says to Zion, ‘Your God reigns.’” He was realistic about the path of ministry—the uphill climbs, the dangers by the wayside, the exhaustion at the end of some days. But he also spoke of the privileges and joys of ministry. These are the things we as pastors, indeed as Christians, feel everyday as we serve God. But he then spoke from God’s perspective. What does God see when he looks at a minister of the church. He spoke that day specifically about the ordained ministry, but I think it’s true about all ministry in the church—the pastors, the paid church staff, the volunteers, the choir members and ushers, the Sunday School teachers, those who serve at social service organizations like local soup kitchens and after-school tutoring programs, and homeless shelters—everyone who serves the Lord and his church in some way. That includes all the baptized. We all have gifts and talents for ministry that should—that must—be used. And it’s when we move from seeing ourselves as helpers and volunteers to ministers that we get hurt the most. When we decide we have a calling to do something for the Lord, there always seems to be somebody around who will be detractors—people who wield the old standby phrases like, “We’ve never done it that way before” or “Martin Luther would be rolling over in his grave.” But what does God see among those who minister in his name? He sees beauty everywhere they step. “How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of the messenger who announces peace, who brings good news, who announces salvation, who says to Zion, ‘Your God reigns.’”

Prayer: “God use me, make me your minister, take the gifts and talents I have for ministry, and give me courage and perseverance to walk through the mountains and valleys of service for you. Show me beauty in the footsteps of others and inspire me to walk beautifully in your name. Amen

Friday, August 7
Isaiah 52:13 – 53:12

See, my servant shall prosper; he shall be exalted and lifted up, and shall be very high. Just as there were many who were astonished at him—so marred was his appearance, beyond human semblance, and his form beyond that of mortals—so he shall startle many nations; kings shall shut their mouths because of him; for that which had not been told them they shall see, and that which they had not heard they shall contemplate. Who has believed what we have heard? And to whom has the arm of the Lord been revealed? For he grew up before him like a young plant, and like a root out of dry ground; he had no form or majesty that we should look at him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him. He was despised and rejected by others; a man of suffering and acquainted with infirmity; and as one from whom others hide their faces he was despised, and we held him of no account. Surely he has borne our infirmities and carried our diseases; yet we accounted him stricken, struck down by God, and afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the punishment that made us whole, and by his bruises we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have all turned to our own way, and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all. He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth; like a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth. By a perversion of justice he was taken away. Who could have imagined his future? For he was cut off from the land of the living, stricken for the transgression of my people. They made his grave with the wicked and his tomb with the rich, although he had done no violence, and there was no deceit in his mouth. Yet it was the will of the Lord to crush him with pain. When you make his life an offering for sin, he shall see his offspring, and shall prolong his days; through him the will of the Lord shall prosper. Out of his anguish he shall see light; he shall find satisfaction through his knowledge. The righteous one, my servant, shall make many righteous, and he shall bear their iniquities. Therefore I will allot him a portion with the great, and he shall divide the spoil with the strong; because he poured out himself to death, and was numbered with the transgressors; yet he bore the sin of many, and made intercession for the transgressors.

This is a passage often read on Good Friday. Every time I read it I think of the movie “The Passion of the Christ” and the way the character of Jesus was tortured, beaten, and disfigured in the movie:

“So marred was his appearance, beyond human semblance … he was despised and rejected by others; a man of suffering … he was wounded for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the punishment that made us whole, and by his bruises we are healed.”

If nothing else, that movie made people think about what exactly was required of Christ, the Suffering Servant. To see Jesus, who is always portrayed as such a calm peaceful man, with his skin torn and bloody and hanging on the cross … there is no doubt that this was is a disturbing image, and that the Lord’s sacrifice for our sins was a huge sacrifice. There’s really not much more to say than, “I am not worthy of this sacrifice.” But isn’t that the whole point of this passage—that it is by his bruises we are healed? By his sacrifice we become worthy citizens of God’s Kingdom.

Prayer: Thank you, Lord, for making me worthy through your sacrifice—worthy to enter your Father’s Kingdom, worthy to stand trial and be forgiven, worthy to be called “Child of God.” Thank you. Amen.

Saturday, August 8
Isaiah 61:1-11

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; to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all who mourn; 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.

Jesus chose this passage when he first preached in his hometown. He told them that the scripture was fulfilled that very day in it’s hearing—that he was the fulfillment of the scripture. The people were amazed at his teaching—this man they’d known since childhood, whose family still lived there—and they ran him out of town. What was he thinking? I haven’t yet preached in my hometown, with the exception of a cousin’s wedding years ago. Like Jesus, I’m sure there are people who would remember me and still know my family. At least I don’t proclaim myself to be the fulfillment of the scripture—the good news for the oppressed. But still, I like to think that I might be different from the teenager the people of my hometown knew, who went about doing stupid things. As we mature and grow in faith, we often surpass the expectations of those we’ve known forever. We find ourselves surprising and amazing them. This is the business of the Holy Spirit, of God’s Word, of the saving power of Jesus Christ. We are transformed by God’s awesome power. But that won’t be true of everyone we meet. Some are stuck in the past. Some will want us to be the same people we were as teenagers—if for no other reason than the fact that they haven’t changed at all, that they are stuck in unhealthy behaviors, situations and relationships. That is the meaning of the phrase, “in the world but not of the world.” We are transformed by God’s Word, and we bear that Word to others around us, but we can no longer as Christians return to the ways of yesterday. We look forward in faith and hope, and we await our homecoming. Along the way we may feel at times like we are being chased out of town for daring to be different and being disciples of Christ. Through it all we must pray for strength to endure and remember that, yes in a way, the scripture is fulfilled in us, as we participate fully in the Body of Christ and bring good news to the oppressed. May God bless us and guide us.

Prayer: Lord, your Word has transformed my life. I want to tell others about you, but I fear the ridicule that may come. Fill me with your Holy Spirit. Make me a bearer of your Word. Give me courage and strength. Amen.