“Have You Not Known?"
2-4-24
Isaiah 40:28-31
Broadway Christian Church
David A. Shirey
A little Bible history to begin with so you understand the context of this passage. Isaiah is speaking to people who are weary. It’s about 550 BC. The people of Israel have been in exile in Babylon (present day Iraq) for decades. Only the oldest generation remember their homeland. If there’s a soundtrack for their state of mind and soul it is “Precious Lord, take my hand/ Lead me on, help me stand/ I’m tired. I’m weak. I’m worn. Isaiah’s words to them bring solace and strength to the weary 2,500 years later. We do well to be reminded of them.
I say we do well to be reminded because Isaiah’s words are “by way of reminder.” He asks a series of rhetorical questions. “Have you not known? Have you not heard? (v. 28) Rhetorical questions don’t seek answers as much as they are statements seeking to make a point. “Have you not known? means “You know this.” Have you not heard?” means “Let me remind you what you know to be true.”
And what does Isaiah want the people to remember? For starters, “The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth” (v. 28). A few verses earlier, Isaiah paints a portrait of God as the Creator of heaven and earth using poetic language: “It is he who sits above the circle of the earth… who stretches out the heavens like a curtain and spreads them like a tent to live in” (v. 22). Now, Isaiah’s not speaking as a scientist about the how of creation-- how things came to be. Rather, he’s speaking as a poet about the Who of creation -- Who brought things to be. And as only poetry can do, he lapses into worship. He says in so many words, “Remember that you’re surrounded by the handiwork of a good and gracious Creator.” We have our ways of waxing poetic and worshipful about the wonder of creation. Our daughter Laura when she was a child used to race into our house in Arizona some sunsets and say, “Mama! Daddy! Come out and see. There’s a good one tonight!” And the three of us would stand side-by-side in the middle of street and look westward in awe at the purple mountains’ majesty. The handiwork of the Creator. The great hymn “How Great Thou Art” sings, O Lord my God, when I in awesome wonder/ consider all the worlds thy hands have made/ I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder/ thy power throughout the universe displayed. Isaiah begins his word of solace to the weary by reminding them they’re surrounded by the handiwork of a Benevolent Creator.
He then contracts his vision from the cosmic to the historic. A few verses before what Charlotte read us, Isaiah says, “To whom will you compare me, or who is my equal? says the Holy One who… brings princes to naught and makes the rulers of the earth as nothing” (vs. 23, 25). What’s his point? That the Creator God who “sits above the circle of the earth” is also the Sovereign God who is very much involved in human history guiding all things toward the good, right, and true. Back in the 17th and 18th centuries there were intellectuals called Deists who described God as a great clockmaker who created the clock – the universe – and wound it up to get it started ticking, but then let it go. By contrast, the Judeo-Christian tradition believes in a God who created all things and is still very much involved in all things, a God who, in the late Al Winn’s words, “rules and overrules in the affairs of nations.” “Have you not known?” says Isaiah, “Have you not heard?” the Creator of Heaven and Earth is also the Sovereign Ruler of all.
But Isaiah’s not done yet. He moves from the cosmic to the historic to the personal. “God,” he says, “gives power to the faint and strengthens the powerless” (v. 29). It’s a remarkable statement when you think about it. Isaiah says the God who created the infinite expanses of space and is Sovereign over human history also cares for every last human being. The 50-cent words that describe the God Isaiah bears witness to who is above all while at the same time alongside all are the words transcendent and immanent. God is transcendent: “Above the circle of the earth.” As the Collective led us in singing, You are the everlasting God / The everlasting God / Our God, you reign forever. At the same time, God is immanent: down close and personal. “God gives power to the faint.” “His eye is on the sparrow and I know he watches me.” It’s one of the most extraordinary claims of our Christian faith: the belief that ours is an Almighty and all-personal God.
That’s a hard thing to comprehend. No wonder many people, though they believe there is a God, have a hard time believing there is a personal God. One man said,
“I believe there must be a Big Mind behind the Big Bang. But I’m only one of five billion people on this planet. This planet is but one of nine planets in our solar system. Our sun is but one of a hundred million galaxies in the known universe. Granting what we know about the vastness of space, it’s a stretch for me to believe that we matter to God.[1]”
He’s right. It’s a stretch, indeed. We don’t even get personal mail anymore-- it’s all junk mail addressed to Resident and email that’s Spam. And we’re to believe there’s a God who cares for each of us personally? That’s precisely what Isaiah believes. God is Almighty and all-personal. And given that our God is that way, I hope our church will always be that way, too. Namely, that we can keep it personal here at Broadway in our relationship with God and one another rather than being some bustling Sunday morning mall of anonymity.
Isaiah asks rhetorically, “Have you not known? Have you not heard?” “The Lord is the everlasting God.” Creator of the Universe. Sovereign of History. The Good Shepherd who knows each of his flock by name.
Then follows one of the most beloved verses in the Bible: “Those who wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint” (v. 31).
I learned something about this verse a few years ago thanks to one of my sisters in Christ, Melissa Bane Sevier[2], a Presbyterian pastor in Kentucky. She reminded me that triplets (three-line sequences) in biblical poetry like mount up with wings like eagles, run and not be weary, and walk and not faint are written from lesser to greater. The second line is greater than the first line. The third line is greater than the second line. Good. Better. Best. But Isaiah begins with eagles soaring, then moves to runners running, and ends with walkers walking. Shouldn’t the order be walk, run, fly? Yes, unless the most wondrous evidence of God’s power is enabling people in certain circumstances to just be able to “walk without fainting.” I want to say to you this morning that though I rejoice in those moments when our spirits are made to “soar like eagles” and I give thanks for the times we’re infused with a charge of adrenalin that enables us to “run without growing weary,” I’m in awe when I see people facing adversity who are able to keep on keepin’ on with dignity, courage, and grace – “walk without fainting.” I’m talking about people with chronic pain or unspeakable grief. People who pour themselves out day in and day out to care for a loved one. People who bear the weight of some emotional, relational or financial stressor that could break the best of us who are somehow able through their faith in God to keep on “walking without fainting.” Isn’t it true that sometimes just being able to walk without fainting is a wondrous thing to behold – a miracle?
Charles was a walking miracle. Charles was a member of the church Jennie and I served in North Carolina throughout the 90s. He was on the Search Committee that called me, making a case to the Search Committee that they ought to give a 29-year-old a chance. An elder, I looked up to him for his wisdom. His quiet faith. His capacity to “walk without fainting.”
You see, Charles lived many years with Parkinson’s. It tested his body, will, and spirit, making even the simplest things difficult. He labored to fulfill his responsibilities as an elder. Handling the communion elements became precarious. Some Sundays in the latter season of his struggle, he’d call another elder early Sunday morning and tell them he didn't think he’d be able to ascend the steps to the communion table. On those Sundays, there was no soaring on eagles’ wings, no running, just the awe-inspiring sight of Charles making his way determinedly, resolutely from the parking lot to a pew, step by step, walking without fainting.
Charles came to me one day with his wife Nancy and shared with me his one desire: that he be able to walk down the aisle arm-in-arm with his daughter Carol on the day of her wedding. In private, Nancy, Carol, and I discussed Plan B if Charles couldn’t walk that far that Saturday.
Plan B was unnecessary. Charles walked without fainting. With his head up and shoulders back, his arm extended to his side, he escorted his daughter, face radiant with joy. Standing at the head of the aisle that Saturday, I knew I’d witnessed a miracle. Charles didn’t fly. He didn't run. He walked… all the way to the altar where he, his daughter, her husband-to-be, and I stood together before Almighty God.
As I thought about Charles this week, I thought of many of you who are living, breathing testimonies to God’s ability to “give power to the faint and strengthen the weary.” Terry, John, and I as your pastors know what some of you are bearing. Some of it is known publicly and some of you are bearing things you’ve shared in confidence with us. We want you to know that we watch each Sunday in awe as you make your way into this holy place to receive power and strength to walk without fainting for another day, another week.
The prophet Isaiah sits down with pen in hand. He wants to write a word of encouragement to people he loves in Babylon … and Broadway. He dips pen in ink and writes on the parchment, “Have you not known? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He gives power to the faint, and strengthens the powerless. Those who wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.”
Let all God’s people say AMEN.
[1] George Hunter, Church for the Unchurched, p. 45
[2] https://melissabanesevier.wordpress.com/2015/02/03/to-be-able-to-walk/
