Isaiah 40:26–31

Quasimodogeniti

May the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with us all. Amen

Isaiah 40:26–31

26 Lift up your eyes on high and see: who created these? He who brings out their host by number, calling them all by name; by the greatness of his might and because he is strong in power, not one is missing. 

27 Why do you say, O Jacob, and speak, O Israel, “My way is hidden from the LORD, and my right is disregarded by my God”? 

28 Have you not known? Have you not heard? The LORD is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable. 

29 He gives power to the faint, and to him who has no might he increases strength. 

30 Even youths shall faint and be weary, and young men shall fall exhausted; 

31 but they who wait for 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.

Dear congregation,

do you know that feeling: it’s evening, it’s been a long day – and you just let yourself sink into a chair. You just can’t carry on. You’re tired.

Tired – that is, at first, a good thing. At the end of a day, after work is done. Then I know what I have done. Tiredness is part of life.

There is also loving tiredness. Parents know it: when a child wakes up again in the night. That takes energy. And yet it is part of life. We gladly accept this tiredness.  The tiredness after a wonderful evening with friends, too. 

And then there is another kind of tiredness. One that doesn’t come from the day. One that lingers.

This tiredness takes away the joy. It takes away the strength. You no longer feel like doing anything. Not talking, not meeting people, sometimes not even living life itself.

Watching the news can make you feel weary. The things that don’t go according to plan in your own life can make you feel weary. And at some point, you might think: it’s simply too much.

Israel was plagued by this kind of ‘weariness’.

And this is precisely where the prophet begins:

“Lift up your eyes and see!”

Not: Stay where you are. Not: Look even deeper into what is weighing you down.

But: Lift your gaze. Change the direction of your gaze. Do not look only at yourselves. Look to your Creator. You are not left to fend for yourselves. But God is at work in your lives. Not: improve yourselves and push yourselves even harder, but breathe a sigh of relief in the presence of God. 

For it makes a difference where I look. Those who look only at the ground see dust and cracks. Those who lift their gaze see the sky. Those who look only at themselves often find their wisdom at an end. Yet God’s wisdom is unfathomable. 

Isaiah speaks to people who had every reason to be weary. They had lost their homeland. Their temple. Their security.

And they say: “Our way is hidden from our God.” That is the true crisis. The people are losing their origins and their purpose. This is a theological crisis. A crisis that very few people perceive. The weariness in the world, the feeling of profound powerlessness and the conclusion: ‘It’s getting worse and worse!’ are also linked to the fact that people feel an unlimited sense of responsibility and that there is no longer any room for God. In a world where God has no home, the vitality of life has been lost. 

Here in Isaiah, people still notice it. They describe their crisis of faith.

God does not see me. God does not care for his people.

Nowadays, this is often no longer even perceived as a crisis. We talk about the climate crisis, the economic crisis, the growth crisis and so on – yet who perceives this as a crisis of faith? 

Isaiah responds to his people’s crisis by reminding them of their origins, of the meaning of life, of God. 

Isaiah says: Look.

“Who created all this?”

He directs our gaze to creation. To wonder. To wonder at God.

Today, in a baptism service, perhaps a different perspective will suffice: a look at a child.

Anyone who has ever held a child in their arms knows: there is more than biology here. There is a miracle. There is life. There is a mystery. 

And in this miracle lies a glimpse of God, of a Creator, an origin that is more than biological DNA.

Isaiah reminds us: this God does not grow weary. He does not falter.

We humans grow weary. God does not.

We humans reach our limits. God does not.

“He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak.”

This is not a magical power that makes us superhuman, but rather the divine presence that gives us breath. Sufficient breath. Endurance.

It is a quiet but sustaining power: the power to keep going. The power to see anew. The power not to remain standing in the darkness.

We hear these words in the season after Easter. And there, too, we see: God does not grow weary.

The exhausted, crucified Jesus does not remain in death. God grants new life.

That is the great hope of our faith: that God’s power is greater than our exhaustion.

This is also a comforting, relieving and liberating realisation. We humans are allowed to remain human. We don’t have to achieve everything. We don’t have to have everything under control.

Creation is more than what we see. It is the reality in which we live – with a place for us and a place for God.

Perhaps this is best understood through our relationship with our children.

We bear responsibility. A great responsibility. We look after them, we care for them, we watch over them even at night.

But we are not their creators.

We trust that there is someone who walks alongside our children. That their lives are in greater hands.

And perhaps this applies to our own lives too.

That we do not have to bear everything. That we are allowed to be tired, especially at the end of each day, when we have done what we can and then, in peace, let go of what is beyond our power.

We are allowed to be tired after loving care and charity. We grow weary, but not hopeless. 

“Those who wait for God shall renew their strength; they shall soar on wings like eagles…”

That is a powerful image.

“…they run and do not grow weary, they walk and do not faint.”

Perhaps for us today, this means:

Not just looking down. Not just at what is difficult.

But – time and again – lift our gaze.

“Lift up your eyes and see!” There is our Creator, at work! It is an invitation to make room for God in our lives.

Amen