REJOICE
In Chapter 61 of the Book of Isaiah, the anointed prophet is given a mission by God: “to bring the good news to the oppressed, proclaim liberty to the captives, release to the prisoners, and to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” Isa. 61 continues to say that the “anointed” prophet will provide blessings to replace hopeless conditions for those in mourning. Identifying himself as the Zion (Isa 61:10), the prophet confidently rejoices that salvation will come.
According to Lk. 4, Jesus begins his ministry using the words of Isa. 61. The chapter starts with Jesus being sent into the wilderness to be tempted. Though the wilderness in this context is typically understood as a geographical location, it can also symbolize a state of mind. Author, Elmer A. Leslie observed that Jesus omitted the part about condemnation by God.1 Jesus’ omission of Isa. 61:2b is significant because it reshapes the image of God. The God Jesus describes in Luke is not the vengeful God we see in Isaiah. This God cares for those who are marginalized and gives hope to those who struggle to survive in the world.
Years ago, I had the opportunity to go on a bus tour from Los Angeles to the Grand Canyon. This tour traveled on a desert road. There was no human life. The area was hot and completely desolate. The Arizona desert prompted the image of the wilderness in Lk. 4. Sitting in the comfort of the nice tour bus with its amenities and cushioned seats, a fear arose as my imagination began to wonder, “What if the bus breaks down? What if I was driving this road on my own?” The idea of being stranded indefinitely in the isolated desert frightened me.
For me, Jesus’ time in the wilderness is not simply about being alone and tempted by the devil. It is about being in a place of desolation with all of your fears – the fear of perishing; the fear of isolation[ the fear of despair; and the fear of pointlessness.
In the year 2000, there was a movie starring Tom Hanks that addresses the philosophical question: can a person survive alone? Tom Hanks is stranded on an island with the bare essentials for survival. Of the things he lacks, companionship is a luxury that he deems important enough to create. He therefore draws the image of a face on a volley ball, dubs it “Wilson,” and begins to converse with the ball. As Viktor E. Frankl so profoundly tells us in his book, “Man’s Search for Meaning,” we human beings are concerned with more than simply surviving one day to the next.
In the wilderness, Jesus is forced to face the question of his purpose in life. Jesus’ handling of temptations reveals more than just his character. It reveals the development of his identity and purpose. As he returned from the wilderness, he proclaims this identity and purpose by quoting Isa. 61 and concludes his reading with, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing” (Lk. 4:21).
Like those who heard Jesus’ words that day and struggled to understand the meaning of salvation, we are also left struggling with the question, “salvation from what?” We often think of salvation as a sense of freedom from institutional enslavement or sinful behaviors in our lives. However, such an interpretation is limited to those of us who live in democratic countries. It fails to be significant for those still struggling for even the most basic of human rights.
I am an Asian woman. Therefore, I live with two identities, and am thus a victim of two different “isms.” However, I also have more freedom in my life than many individuals around the world. While there are women in the world who struggle for the right to be educated and have autonomy over their own lives, I have earned a doctorate and can continue with my study if I choose to do so. I can vote for leaders and decide what kind of work I will pursue. Yet, the oppression I experienced was not a result of restricting laws. My oppressions are a consequence of the “isms” that hindered me from understanding my own purpose in life. There is no state law that forbids women from becoming an ordained clergy. However, I grew up being told that I was not called to be an ordained clergy because I am female. In addition, the community in which I was called to be a pastor felt that my Asian background was an obstacle to proclaiming the Word of God because my pronunciation of words was not clear enough for them to perceive God’s message.
Besides these two presumed handicapped identities, I also struggled throughout life. Life was a storm sparking a series of fires which needed containment and defusing. I realized that I had become oppressed by life itself. I was too busy trying to survive to have any room to rejoice. Upon this epiphany, I entered the wilderness to pray before God. In the wilderness, I stopped running and became still. Life still happened, and fires arose time after time. However, in my stillness, I learned to enter the eye of the storm to find quiet and calm. I have learned that if I stop reacting to life, I can find calm spaces that allow me to respond rather than react. With this newfound space, I began to claim myself and my ability to respond with rejoicing.
The anointed prophet Isaiah and Jesus claimed the act of rejoicing because they understood that when we stop reacting to life and be still, we find space where God’s peace resides. This space allows God’s peace to be revealed not only to ourselves, but to others. Here we do not live according to our instinct for survival, but instead by our intention to experience and rejoice.
When the prophet in Isa. 61 urges his people to rejoice, it is not because everything is well and good. The people that the prophet addresses have just returned from exile, and before they could celebrate their return, they are faced with many challenges. They return to ashes of what once was their glorious homeland and the resulting task to rebuild it was a Herculean endeavor. During such a time, the prophet proclaims that God will turn their mourning into joy. Although the truth of this proclamation is indisputable, the method by which God will perform such a miracle is unknown. I wonder how clearly Jesus understood what it meant to be the anointed. Did he envision his mission will lead him to such an excruciating death?
Could it be then, that the task of the church is not to find a tangible solution, but to empower people to endure life’s storm? Maybe the ministry of the church is to respond to life’s fires with faith in order to create a pathway for God to provide new, unknown, and unlimited opportunities and thus instill patience and endurance in believers rather than aid the human need to cave in to fear, impatience, and panic by abruptly constructing a resolution and plan only to survive the immediate circumstance. Perhaps the circumstance itself is a lesson in disguise to reveal and free us from underlying adverse emotional, spiritual, or mental inclinations that keep us from true freedom, joy, and rejoicing at all times. Could it be that this will develop the foresight to see chaos as an opportunity for rebirth for the people of God? Each Sunday, God calls us to this ministry of collected responding during chaos for three reasons: rejoicing comes when we receive healing in our suffering; rejoicing comes when we are given hope in our conundrums; and rejoicing comes when we are empowered to make changes even while stuck in the mundane life of living death.
Here, I have to lift up the most important aspect of the Biblical understanding of rejoicing. It does not happen alone. Rejoicing cannot be sustained by an individual. This rejoicing is sustainable only through the gathering of God’s community. The real challenge of the 21st century is that there is a need for a new definition of community. Past images, shapes, forms, and notions of faith communities are no longer relevant. Perhaps this is why there are so many people who express the feeling of being in the wilderness today. The challenge of today’s anointed prophet is discerning how he or she can bring the good news to those who are wandering and lost.
One of the greatest joys of being a chaplain is that I get to meet these lost people in a setting where life can easily be shared. I am not bound by a denomination or church building for these men and women to engage in conversation with me. Through these conversations, I can be like the anointed who frees them from their oppressions. By reflecting on my own wilderness experience, I am able to direct these people to communities that help them discover their path to God. I am also humbled to learn that not one specific path may be right for everyone. As all people are unique, we all need our own way to God. Yet, our uniqueness does not isolate us. Having the same destination is the common bond that helps us become a community who is able to rejoice together.
Notes
1. Elmer Archibald Leslie, Isaiah: Chronologically Arranged, Translated and Interpreted (Nashville: Abingdon, 1963), 223.
