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.”
Growing up, my dreams revolved around cockpits and airplanes, takeoffs and landings. No doubts about the future gripped me as a boy: I would grow up to fly airplanes in the military. That certainty gave life structure and purpose, even at an early age.
God had other plans.
At age 14, I suffered a seizure while watching TV. Two years later, it happened again. The doctors figured out what caused the seizures. They prescribed medicine that worked. Compared to others with problems that defy easy solutions, my struggles were minor and relatively insignificant. Life went on.
The medicine meant that the seizures never recurred – but they did end my dreams of becoming a pilot. Where once I’d been certain of the future, now I felt unsure, with no clear idea of how my life would unfold. I drifted, buffeted by events beyond my ability to understand or control.
I’d been raised in the church, but faith ranked low on the priority list by the time of college. How could Christianity help me find my way in life? How could faith help pay the bills? After a few years of floating, I discovered a career as a journalist. It enthralled me. I poured my energies into work, eager to make my way in the world.
Years passed of long hours at work, propelled by the kind of selfish ambition that Christ cautions against. Sure, a medical problem had derailed my plans, but I’d reacted – eventually – by blazing a new path. That brought a sense of pride, but a gnawing sense of emptiness grew and grew. Had I been too quick to chalk up success at work to my grit, hard work and determination? Had I taken my eyes off something larger? Had I really done this on my own?
Only in retrospect would I appreciate that God had been in charge all along. Only after reconnecting with a community of faith would I understand that he had set me on a path that paid the bills and brought satisfaction. More importantly, God had provided me with a loving wife and three wonderful children.
Sometimes we can seem alone, adrift, lost in a fog of confusion or hurt, struggling to see the way forward. I felt that way for years after a medical problem grounded my dream of flying. Ultimately I realized, by studying Scripture in community, that I’m not really in charge, and that a sense of peace and purpose is available only when we relinquish the illusion of control and place our faith in God.
A beleaguered Jewish community heard similar encouragement to focus on God hundreds of years before the birth of Christ.
Writing seven centuries before the angel Gabriel visited the virgin Mary, the prophet Isaiah spoke of a voice in the desert who would urge people like a beacon to “prepare the way for the Lord” and “make straight in the wilderness a highway for our God.”
Those references were to John the Baptist urging people to focus on a savior whose arrival was imminent. They remind us as Christmas approaches of where our focus should be: On Jesus Christ, our savior. Only by focusing and re-focusing on him can we shed anxiety, no matter the turbulence of our lives, to cloak ourselves in “the peace of God, which transcends all understanding,” as the apostle Paul writes in his letter to the Philippians. By studying the word of God, we hear Jesus ask, as he does in Matthew, “Who … by worrying can add a single hour to his life?”
Let’s listen, more than 2,000 years later, to the prophet Isaiah’s encouraging words of a forthcoming savior, to his message of hope even when times seem bleak.
Isaiah was in one respect telling the Jewish people that a messiah was on the way to offer salvation. In another respect, he is speaking to us across time and space, urging us to take our eyes off of ourselves, off of selfish or sinful pursuits, and focus instead on our savior, who alone can forgive us as we forgive others, and provide meaning and purpose and salvation.
“And the glory of the Lord will be revealed,” Isaiah writes, “and all mankind together will see it.”
Written by Mark Bixler
What am I passionate about at Heritage?
“I’m passionate about learning and teaching in a Sunday School and other small groups.”
