Like a Dream
Psalm 126; Isaiah 61:1-4, 8-11[1]
Our dreams in life
are an important part of what motivates us to live up to our potential in the
fullest possible sense. Our dreams inspire us to do something that is above and
beyond the “norm,” and to make the sacrifices that entails. If we go through life
without any particular dream to motivate us, we can fall into the humdrum of
routine, and we very likely turn to some kind of escape to avoid the boredom
that results. Whether it has to do with our families, our careers, or some
particular accomplishment, our dreams play a central role in defining how and
for what we will invest our lives. Our dreams are an important part of our
lives.
But we have to take a
realistic approach to our dreams. For many of us, our dreams are formed when we
are young and have little experience with way life actually unfolds. I doubt
that there are many of us who, at the end of our lives, can say that everything
about the way life unfolded for us was exactly what we expected. For me, one of
my dreams was that I would live in close proximity to my children and
grandchildren. But they are pursuing their own dreams, and I want them to do
that. Unfortunately, most of us have a hard time letting go of expectations
like that and accepting the way in which life actually does bring us
fulfillment.
Our Scripture lessons
for today were addressed to people who very likely had given up on their
dreams. Some of them had spent their whole lives in exile, living far away from
the land of their ancestors. While to some extent they had been “free” to go
about their lives, they were nevertheless “living in an unholy land.” They were
strangers and foreigners, and as anyone who has lived in a foreign country can
attest, there is always a sense that you’re just not where you belong. They
felt “out of place” as long as they were in exile. Their “dream” was to return
to their homeland so they could live full and free.
But the people for
whom our Scripture lessons were intended very likely had already gone “home,”
only to find that home was nothing like they remembered it. Jerusalem was
half-deserted. The walls protecting the city had been torn down. The Temple had
been destroyed. And after 70 years of exile, the land had been at the mercy of
bandits and marauders who took whatever they pleased. In a very real sense,
those who returned to their homeland after decades of exile in Babylon were
faced with the prospect of rebuilding their homeland from scratch. I would say
that wasn’t anything close to the dream they had clung to all those years. The
reality they returned to was very different from their dream.
There’s an
interesting tension in our Psalm text for today. The Psalm begins with a
declaration of the joy and laughter of those who had the privilege of seeing
their dream come true. They longed for God to “restore their fortunes,” to
return their lives and their homeland to the way they had been before the
exile. In the first part of the Psalm, it sounds as if that has already
happened, and their dream was fulfilled. But the second part of the Psalm
changes tone abruptly to a fervent plea that God would indeed restore them and
their land. And that plea makes clear that it had not yet come to pass.
Instead, their situation was one in which they had to “sow in tears.” They had
set about seeking to rebuild the ruins of their homeland, but they were still
broken-hearted about the reality they faced. It was very far from their dreams
indeed.
I think this is where
our lesson from Isaiah comes into play. Again, the prophet is addressing the
same people, those who returned to a reality that was very different from what
they had imagined. In that context, the prophet declares that he has been sent
to “to bring good news to the oppressed, to bind up the brokenhearted, to
proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to the prisoners” (Isa. 61:1).
Not only were those who returned from exile broken-hearted about the conditions
they found. They were also subject to powerful warlords who threatened their
safety in order to steal what little they had. They desperately needed to be
reminded that God had not forgotten them, that God would indeed make good on
his promise to set things right, and that he would indeed set them free from
the cruelty and greed of those who were treating them like cattle to be
slaughtered at will.
We might wonder what a
message addressed to people who lived 2500 years ago has to do with us. I think
we too find ourselves in situations where we mourn over the fact that the
reality of our lives doesn’t live up to our dreams. We too need reminding that
God hasn’t forgotten us. We need reminding that we still have something to look
forward to: God’s work of setting all things right, of restoring the justice,
peace, and freedom that make it possible for our lives to be truly whole. We
need reminding that “Those who go out weeping, bearing the seed for sowing,
shall come home with shouts of joy, carrying their sheaves” (Ps. 126:6). That’s what the birth of Jesus is about: a definitive
statement that God is not finished with the human family. Rather, what God has
in store for us is so different from what we’ve grown accustomed to that it
could be said that it is “like a dream.” And yet, that dream of God continuing
to work in our world to set things right is precisely the essence of our faith.
[1]
©2017 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 12/17/2017 at
Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE
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