Making Things New

sermon by Torin Eikler
Isaiah 61:1-4, 8-11 John 1:6-8, 19-28

In 1996 and ’97 there was a rash of church burnings in this country. Most of the churches that were targeted were African American churches though a few were the home of predominately white congregations. Burnings like those are nothing new. There have been at least three black churches burned every year since before the Civil War with the occasional white church thrown in the mix. And, if talking about it this way seems a little crass or uncaring, the reality in the United States is that most people don’t know about this disturbing incarnation of bigotry and those who do tend to take it for granted as just another reality of life in this culture. The big difference this time was all in the numbers – and, of course, the media coverage. Over the course of those two years, over 180 churches were the victims of intentional arson and most cases included obvious evidence of racial motivation. A few churches a year spread across the south don’t make nearly as good a story as a wave of attacks reaching from Florida to Texas to Oregon to New York.

As sad as this truth is, there was good that came out of the increased news coverage. Not only did the National Council of Churches begin an ecumenical effort to link churches in a push to rebuild, industrial suppliers donated millions of dollars worth of materials to the effort. And, even more surprising, the response of pastors and congregants who were interviewed all across the nation did not, for the most part, express anger or a desire for vengeance. Their response was sadness and regret for the conditions that produced so much hate between Christians from different backgrounds. Many times pastors reflected that they would prefer that the arsonists were not punished according to the laws involved but that they were asked – not forced, just asked – to attend worship services with the congregations they had wounded for a year in the faith that they would come to appreciate the power of a diverse unity in the body of Christ. Those words of compassion and hope were small, important steps away from division and toward restoration in the community of faith.

I had the privilege of working with a congregation as they continued down that path in search of renewal. Their pastor was one of those who expressed compassion instead of fury, but when I arrived to help with the reconstruction of their church they were still confused, a bit angry, and depressed. They were hurt in deep ways that take a lot of time and care to heal. Yet, over the course of the year that I spent with them, I watched their wounded spirits heal and their shaken faith strengthen as they witnessed an outpouring of care and support from sisters and brothers they had never known before. Where they had been broken and despairing, they found themselves filled with a renewed sense of hope and purpose born of knowing the power of God’s restoring care first hand.


A few years later while living in Elgin, Illinois, I met a woman who was in the midst of a crisis – a life crisis and a crisis of faith. Lori had lived a hard life without much comfort. She left home early as a way of escaping all sorts of different problems. As is sometimes the case, the problems she fled were not linked to her family, her home, or her surroundings, and she found them bearing down on her no matter where she went. She did not graduate from high school, and as a result, she had problems finding work that paid well enough to support her. Soon, she found that alcohol, drugs, and sex provided an easy way to forget her worries if only for a time. Eventually, she found herself alone and homeless for a time. Slowly, with the help of her family, she got herself off the street and made her way out of the drugs and alcohol. Her relationships, though, did not improve much, and when I met her at church, she was living alone with a four-year-old son. All through these times, her family was close by and helped as they could, but they were not in a position to support her, and she was not of a disposition to return home to live. She got along with a manufacturing job and a grandmother who could help with child care.

Lori’s situation was not unique, and she was not an unintelligent woman. When she lost her job because of layoffs, she managed to avoid a return to her old habits of escapism – partly thanks to her devotion to her son. But, she did begin to slip into depression and despair. Her hope for a way out – cosmetology school – was either too expensive or required a high school diploma. And, while she began the process of getting her GED, she was dispirited by the amount of work it required.

As you may have guessed, Lori was not one to ask for help. Her pride and stubbornness was what had kept her going in many situations, and her time on the street had conditioned her to hide and vulnerability from others. But, she did have some friends at the church – some of whom had known her for most of her life. Together, these people raised enough money to get her started in the school she had been accepted to and to support her family for a while. Knowing her nature, they went to talk with her as a group and explained that they could help if she was willing to do cleaning and secretarial work at the church each week as well as studying until she was able to earn a GED.

Lori accepted the offer. She began to focus her attention on her studies in preparation for the next GED exam in four months. She finished the application and enrollment process with the cosmetology school. She worked faithfully at the church getting the building and printed materials ready for worship each Sunday. In the process, the cloud of her depression slowly evaporated. She began to smile, and when I talked with her she talked about her hopes and dreams rather than everything that was going wrong. Where she had been one more person about to give up and settle into despair, she flowered into an active, lively part of her congregation and her circle of friends. Eventually, she requested a rebaptism saying that she felt that she felt her life and her spirit had been renewed by the Holy Spirit and the care of brothers and sisters in faith – the restoring power of God.


Just two stories of the transforming touch of our God in the midst of everyday life – two stories among the millions we would hear and even see around us if we were looking – two stories of the promise of restoration that has been spoken by the prophets for generations, a promise we know through the Christ we prepare to receive anew each year.

Isaiah spoke the words of this promise to the people of Israel who had lived in exile for generations (words that the youth learned this summer in bible school):

The spirit of the Lord God is upon 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 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…. They shall build up the ancient ruins, they shall raise up the former devastations; they shall repair the ruined cities, the devastations of many generations.

That is the promise we have – a new heaven and a new earth. The old shall pass away. Yet, there is no reason to think, as many do, that this means an entirely new creation. The image of the New Jerusalem coming to earth in Revelation seems to point toward a different reality – a renewal, a restoration of what is to what it was meant to be. And, who among us knows what that is? None of us can know what God has in mind. That is the nature of the enigmatic One we serve. We do not really know God. We do not know really know Christ. We do not really know the Holy Spirit. And we cannot know what the restoring power of God will bring when it comes in all its terrible wonder. Still, we wait for the time to come as God plans in God’s time.

Yet, we cannot simply wait passively for the things that shall be. The promise asks more of us than that. Isaiah told us this in the reading we heard last week – prepare the way of the Lord, make straight a highway for our God. John the Baptist echoes the thought in our reading for today. Pulling his audience away from their ideas of who he was, he said, simply, “I am the voice of one crying in the wilderness, ‘make straight the way of the Lord.’” We are not simply a people waiting for restoration and redemption, for we have received the gift of redemption already. And, we are called to prepare for the coming of the Day of the Lord in which all things will be restored.

When we reach out to sisters and brothers to help rebuild and repair homes and churches that have been destroyed, we answer that call. When we offer our caring hands and hearts to support those who are lost in despair and remind them of hope, we answer that call. And, it’s the stories we tell about those times when we meet with unexpected restoration that move us. Whenever we hear about people bringing healing or comfort or building others up or speaking words of freedom and compassion, we find ourselves lost in tears or laughter or renewed commitment to serve as best we can. When we share our own stories – stories of the times we have seen or experienced renewal and restoration in surprising times and unusual places, then we proclaim hope and promise to those lost in pain and depression. We make the way a little straighter for the Lord to bring restoration in the lives of people here and now, and we prepare a way within ourselves for the Lord to come to us as well.

Brothers and Sisters, let us prepare for the coming of the One we know – and don’t know. We have felt the touch of his power in our own lives, and that is just the beginning of what may be. The Christ is coming into the world again – making all things new. We do not know how his promise will be fulfilled, nor do we know when that time will come. Yet, we know that he comes to bring salvation – to restore righteousness and justice with mercy and compassion. As we wait for that time – for the advent of the restoring light of our God, let us work to make straight a way for its coming in the wilderness and desolation of our world and in the wild and desolate places of our hearts and souls. Let us prepare to welcome Christ’s coming with joy and praise.